Free Killer Blonde by Laura Levine Page A

my secretary. She’s taking dictation for my book. Isn’t that right, Jaine, dear?”
    Clearly, she didn’t want anyone to know she was using a ghostwriter.
    I smiled and muttered a noncommital Hmmm.
    “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Heidi whispered. “God forbid she should give anybody credit for anything.”
    “It’s okay,” I lied. “I don’t mind.”
    “Yeah, well, I do.” Then she cleared her throat, and said, “Actually, Jaine’s a writer. She’s ghostwriting SueEllen’s book.”
    A hush fell over the room.
    Everyone looked at SueEllen to see what she would say.
    “Well, yes,” she said, smiling a brittle smile, “Jaine is helping me just a tad with the writing. And doing a marvelous job, I might add. In fact, when I’m through with this book, I think I may write another. A diet book for fat teenagers.”
    Accent on the fat.
    Oh, Christ. The gloves were off. To hell with the dinner guests. SueEllen was out for blood.
    I looked over at Heidi, who was blushing furiously. No one (except possibly Brad, who was practically unconscious with booze) could have missed SueEllen’s dig.
    And it was at that unfortunate moment that Conchi chose to wheel in Heidi’s birthday cake, a towering confection with sixteen candles and Happy Birthday, Heidi, emblazoned across the pink icing.
    “And look what’s here,” SueEllen said. “Heidi’s birthday cake! But what will the rest of us be eating, Conchi?”
    “That’s enough, SueEllen,” Hal said, his jaw clenched.
    “Oh, Heidi doesn’t mind a little kidding, do you, sweetie?”
    Heidi just sat there, staring down at her hands.
    Then somebody started singing Happy Birthday. Everyone joined in, eager to fill the painful silence.
    When we were all through singing, someone shouted, “Make a wish.”
    “Yes,” everybody chorused. “Make a wish.”
    But before Heidi could make her wish, SueEllen piped up:
    “Better wish for a new nose.”
    It was as if Heidi were frozen in her chair, the way she kept sitting there, eyes lowered, not moving a muscle. Oh, God, I prayed. Please don’t let her cry. Not in front of all these people.
    But Heidi didn’t cry. At last, she raised her face and was surprisingly dry-eyed.
    “No, SueEllen,” she said. “That’s not my wish. Here’s my wish: I wish you were dead. Too bad I said it out loud. Now it probably won’t come true.”
    Then she blew out the candles, every damn one of them, and walked out of the room.
    For once in her life, SueEllen Kingsley was speechless.
     

    For once in my life, I didn’t stick around for birthday cake.
    I hurried out into the foyer, looking for Heidi, but she was nowhere in sight. I headed upstairs, figuring she’d gone to her room. I had no idea where Heidi’s bedroom was, so I ran down the hallway opening doors at random. At last I found a room painted a hideous hot pink. Heidi was lying on her bed in her bra and panties, staring up at the ceiling, perhaps remembering the fluffy clouds her mother had once painted for her. She’d taken off her ugly party dress and tossed it carelessly on the floor.
    “I wish I had a fireplace so I could burn that thing.”
    “Heidi, are you okay?”
    “I’m fine,” she said, sitting up.
    And she was. I’d expected to find her bawling her eyes out, but she was surprisingly calm. I sat down at the edge of her bed, and smoothed her bangs away from her face.
    “I’ve made up my mind,” she said. “I won’t let SueEllen hurt me any more. I’m not scared of her. Or of Daddy, either. I don’t care what they do to me. They can send me away to boarding school. In fact, I hope they do.”
    “I’d hate to see you go, but I think you’d be happier away from SueEllen.”
    Heidi flopped back onto her pillow and sighed.
    “Oh, Jaine, why couldn’t Daddy have married someone like you?”
    “Because your daddy thinks with his penis, that’s why.”
    Of course, I didn’t really say that. What I said was, “If I’m ever a mother, I hope my