Chapter Twenty Five
“I need a cocktail dress,” Irene moaned, “and a string of pearls.”
“Pearls I got. But you’d be swimming in one of my dresses. Jordan is about your size and she’s a walking clotheshorse. She bunks in with Linda.”
“Linda? The MIT student?”
“Yeah. Jordan will help you out. She collects clothes like some people collect dust. Where’s my phone,” Ditz checked the counter top. “What the hell? You see my phone?”
Irene scanned the table. “Not here. In your room, maybe?”
“Oh yeah. Of course, my nightstand. Pop in and grab it.”
Irene walked through the bedroom door and looked at the chaos. The bed was unmade, there was a mountain of cosmetics on the dresser and the clothes Ditz had worn the previous evening were heaped on the floor.
Irene moved to the bedside table. Her eye
