Free When Life Gives You Lululemons by Lauren Weisberger

all interest in sex over the past six months.
    â€œShe’s not nearly as pretty as you,” Emily said authoritatively. “Not even close.”
    â€œShe’s nearly a decade younger than me,” Karolina said. “Does she really even need to be pretty?”
    â€œNo,” Miriam and Emily agreed simultaneously.
    â€œBeing connected is more appealing to Graham than being pretty,” Karolina said flatly. “Anyway, right now Trip advised us to keep quiet. Supposedly he’s working the phones on my behalf, and he thinks we have a shot at getting the charges dropped.”
    The sound of a buzzer broke the silence.
    â€œThat’s the gate,” Karolina said. Her mind flashed back to the hordes of camera crews and reporters camped outside their Bethesda home. “You don’t think the police have let them through, do you?”
    Thankfully, the neighbors on either side of the Hartwells’ house had complained about the disruption from the paparazzi, and the Greenwich Police Department had very thoughtfully closed the road to all traffic except those who could prove their residence and their invited guests. It was the only thing saving her sanity.
    Miriam jumped up from the couch. “Where can you see the gate camera? The kitchen?”
    Karolina merely nodded. It was starting to feel like she would never escape this nightmare.
    â€œIt’s just two Girl Scouts!” Miriam called. “Can I buzz them in?”
    â€œNo cookies at a time like this!” Emily called back. “The last thing she needs is an endless stream of empty calories!”
    Karolina took a sip of water. “I guess not even the cops can say no to Girl Scouts.”
    Miriam walked back in and shot Emily a disgusted look. “I buzzed them in. You can’t refuse a cookie solicitation, it brings seven years of bad luck.”
    â€œOh, well, we sure wouldn’t want that,” Emily said. “I mean, not with how gorgeously everything seems to be going right now.”
    This time Karolina burst out laughing. She was crazy and emotional, and her life was spiraling completely out of control, but damn, it felt nice just to laugh. “Bring on the Samoas. This girl is ready to eat !”

7
Vodka and Tampax: A Match Made in Greenwich
Emily
    â€œE mily! Half-caf skinny latte for Emily!” The Starbucks barista had a ring through the cartilage of her left ear and a line of small silver cuffs all the way up her right one. Emily wanted to hug her for merely existing in Greenwich without either a blond bob or a pair of Sorel Joan of Arctic boots.
    â€œThanks,” Emily said, grabbing the cup and beelining back to her corner seat before one of the women trolling for tables snagged her spot.
    She sipped her coffee and tore herself away from a photo of Olivia and Rizzo lunching at a brasserie in the East Village, instead scrolling through a list of designers to approach last-minute for Kim Kelly. Kim Kelly, the actress made famous by risqué roles (read: willingness to take her clothes off anytime), was having a dress crisis. Kim was Emily’s first client after Runway and remained, to this day, her craziest. TheSAG Awards were less than two weeks away, and according to Kim, the Proenza Schouler Emily had commissioned for her was a “total fucking nightmare.” Nearly ten years of dressing the woman had taught her to expect this behavior at least fifty percent of the time—but she was annoyed by the total about-face. Kim had loved the dress at her first fitting a few weeks earlier, twirling in front of the three-way mirror, giggling to herself. The shoes were Chanel, the jewelry Harry Winston, and the only thing left to source was the perfect beaded clutch—hardly a difficult task. Emily’s phone buzzed with yet another hysterical text from Kim.
    Will you look at this? Total fucking nightmare , Kim had written.
    Emily squinted at the iPhone picture of Kim looking