or。 Long and narrow； with
windows along one wall overlooking Madison； and a small； modern bar； it was the type of
restaurant that was surprisingly unspectacular looking given its popularity。 What made it
spectacular was its usual clientele？the Holly Golightlys of the present day and their
Park…Avenue…dwelling mothers or publicists； all dressed in Chanel and Prada； sipping white wine
spritzers and picking at their salads while they worried about whether someone else was going to
buy the last pair of faun…colored Costume National knee…high stiletto boots they had spotted on
their way up to the restaurant。
Right now； though； the restaurant was empty； except for Ken Mogul and his crew。 The director
was standing by the bar giving lighting direction to a gaggle of Swedish…looking blond female
crewpeople in matching black tunics； his notorious bulging blue eyes bloodshot with fatigue。 He
sported a short； prickly； reddish beard with no mustache？never a good look？and shoulder…length
curly red hair。 His 1980s…style leather jacket had huge rounded shoulders； and his Levi？s were
way too tight？also not a good look。 Blair had never seen him before and thought he might be one
of the crew until he addressed her。
？Well； you certainlylook the part。？ He pointed to one of the chrome…and…black…leather bar stools；
gesturing for her to sit down。 ？But this isn？t a plete remake； you know。 I？m taking some
liberties。 For instance； Holly might not have brown hair。 And she could be tall。？
Way to rub a brunette who？s always been on the shorter side the wrong way！
It had taken Blair three hours to get dressed； so she decided to ignore his insult。 She folded up the