MISCHA'S HEAD WAS throbbing the next morning and she needed to melt for a while. The best beach and pool were the private ones at the Monte Carlo Beach Hotel, which was actually just over the border in France----something she knew without Lindsay having to tell her. Lindsay wasn't her normal encyclopedic self this morning, having probably even less familiarity with a night of drinking than Mischa. They had some thoughts of shopping, seeing the royal palace, Princess Grace's grave----but first they all just wanted to chill out.414Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfFdAh5jDyo
They were all suffering but enjoying it at the same time. By the time they dragged themselves to the beach club, it was almost eleven. The sun was high and brutally hot. The air was clear and dry and the sky was cloudless. The Mediterranean was an endless deep blue. This was the good life.
The pool at the Metropole was great, but this one was the place to be. That's what the actresses were told, anyway, and it turned out to be true. The place was at full capacity, making it hard for them to scramble together in the enormous pool, but the sides were lined with people sitting and getting their legs wet. It was like a singles bar.
"A bit brek-up, are we girls? Then nothing like a dip." Rihanna slipped off her cover-up, revealing her black bikini. Two dozen men injured their necks in the process of getting a look at her. Lindsay, though not Rihanna's equal in beauty, was even taller and still had still had a lithe body. Her bikini was gold. It seemed like they were under a spotlight.
Nicole Richie kept her cover-up on----"It's not like I need a tan," she joked---consistent with her routine. They'd never talked about it. After the sprained arm, the dislocated shoulder, the broken fingers, the bruises on her forearm or thigh or back---somewhere in there it stopped being a coincidence, ceased being clumsiness. It wasn't a regular thing, which meant that her boyfriend, Joel Madden, wasn't a serial abuser. He was just a small, spiteful brute. And it was never Nicole Richie's face. Always a part of her body she could cover up. which meant Joel was cautious. That, for some reason, made Mischa hate him all the more.
Mischa had wanted to say something to Nicole Richie so many times, but the three of them made a decision not to; she knew they loved her, that they'd do anything for her. If she wouldn't talk, she wouldn't.
"Well?" Rihanna looked back at them. She fingered the clasp on her bikini top. "When in Monte Carlo....?"
Most of the people at the pool were topless. Mischa would not be one of them; a red bikini underneath her cover-up was as racy as she'd get.
"When in Monte Carlo," said Nicole Richie. She was still intoxicated by her performance at the casino last night. It wasn't about the money per se; it was about her competitive nature. She'd turned her final bet of five thousand euros into a payout of 175,000 euros, putting her up 75,000 for the night. That was over 100,000 U.S. dollars, if one cared to keep score.
Lindsay went first, removing her top. Rihanna quickly followed. They covered themselves in suntan lotion, with extra for their headlights, and sauntered over to the pool to dip their toes in.
"I hate them," Mischa told Nicole Richie. A waiter appeared out of nowhere. Mischa ordered bottles of water, cigarettes, and fruit plates for each of them.
Nicole Richie settled in, donning fashionable shades and stretching her limbs in ecstasy. She really seemed to be unwinding. Lindsay and Rihanna were making out okay, too. About a dozen men surrounded them within seconds of their approach to the pool. They were the flirtatious ones in their crew.
Sometimes it was more than flirtation. Lindsay hadn't been faithful to Egor. Their relationship had grown loveless, and sexless, years ago. Egor was good to her, he provided for her, but that really wasn't Lindsay's style. Lindsay craved excitement, adrenaline, and there were only so many times she could jump out of an airplane, or run a Maserati flat out on the Autobahn. She wanted passion in her love life. So, on two different occasions over the last five years, she'd found it with another man. And she'd been remorseful both times. She even suspected that Egor knew. Mischa's theory: She wanted Egor to know. She wanted him to fight for her. She wanted him to want her.
Now, it seemed, all she had was her in-laws, Benji Madden and Cameron Diaz. They were everything to her.
And Rihanna? She was dating Aubrey "Drake" Graham, a Canadian rapper, singer, songwriter, record producer and actor. Drake was handsome and mysterious. Just Rihanna's type. They were two drop-dead gorgeous people. But something was off with them. It was hard to pinpoint it. And Rihanna wasn't one to complain. It was just the way she talked about Drake, the absence of enthusiasm. Rihanna threw herself on her singing career, cutting records, making videos and advocating for autistic children.
"If you're a woman anywhere at this pool right now, you hate Rhi and Lindsay," Nicole Richie said with a chuckle. She was probably right. Almost every head was turned in their direction, and, well, it wasn't exactly a pool full of homely people. Most of the women here were more done-up than the women at the casino, and at least half of them had improved a body part, maybe two, with surgery.
Drinks and smokes arrived. And Mischa lit up her first Parliament of the day. Why not? She was on vacation. She didn't miss Sebastian, she had to admit. She missed her sisters, but she would have missed them in Salzburg, too. Zoe and Hania were in boarding school in upstate New York, a school similar to the one her father attended in Manchester. Mischa had objected, yes, but lost the argument. She usually did, which was hard for her to admit. It was one thing for her sisters to be in upstate New York when she was in New York City. Syracuse, N.Y. was about 4 hours by car, 1 hour, 5 minutes by plane---but quite another when they were in Austria. But Mischa couldn't ask Sebastian to turn down his starring role in the upcoming spy thriller, Terminal Domination, and she couldn't ask her sisters to pick up and leave the only place they knew, a boarding school where they were happy.414Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwZjMrz5q0D
"Enough," Mischa said to herself. "I'm on vacation." She finished her cigarette and decided to smoke Rihanna's too. One of her poolside suitors had already lit hers.414Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwKiiDFriss
"Let's jump in," Nicole Richie said. "Want to?"414Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqcNcUJ5HoJ
Mischa looked at her and smiled. What was she waiting for? And why? Sebastian? He was probably with his leading lady at this moment.414Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB5ZfPdrwJm
"That sounds absolutely divine," said Mischa.414Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡniuVLZmKwb
