Between Males [antikvár]

'I've made you and Mr H some cinnamon muffins, Mrs H. ' 'Ah, that's really sweet of you. Max. Would you bring them up?' 'Sure thing, Mrs H. Get off the couch. Freeway. ' On screen, Stephanie Powers replaced the receiver and snuggled up to Robert Wagner, her satin pyjama top rustling. 'I hope you're hungry, Jonathan darling. ' He looked up from his paper. 'After the week we've had, darling, I guess we've both worked up an appetite. ' They both dissolved into laughter and the credits rolled. Odette hit the rewind button on the run as she crossed from kitchen to bathroom, clutching an Evian bottle. She'd worked up quite an appetite, too, but she had no intention of ruining it by eating just yet. She had just spent two wonderful days punishing herself for her excesses. She had almost forgotten the pleasure of the castigation diet, which worked best after a truly shameful blow-out, or in this case a suck-in. The only things to enter her mouth since Barfly's enthusiastic tongue had been a toothbrush and the circular rim of an Evian bottle. She felt good as a result - leaner than ever, suitably purged and ready for the party of the year. Working in advertising, Odette knew that all PR parties were the party of the year. In fact there were more than 365 parties of the year each year, sometimes several each night. Tonight's launch of celebrity chef Wayne Street's cookbook was mercifully unrivalled by other high-profile celebrations, premieres and openings, but it hardly stood out. It was mid-week