Araminta Lee Spotted With Mystery Woman
Credible sources say that Araminta Lee, heiress to Annabel Lee Luxury Hotels and celebrated socialite, was spotted at the Old Marina Yacht Club getting cozy with a tall, dark-haired woman in a beige jumpsuit and cheap-looking bangles. Photos below show Araminta low-key snacking on chips and fries, holding hands and even sharing a kiss with the mystery woman. We all know Araminta's quite the serial dater. But, what about this mystery woman? Who could she be?
And, will we see her at the launch of Paraiso Club, the Lees' newest membership-only resort in a yet-to-be-disclosed location? We'll give you the deets on this evolving story.
I scrolled through the whole website, and cross-checked all the leading news sites in the country. Only a handful posted about The Tattler's gala, and even fewer ran stories on Michael Teo. In one, there was a tiny footnote about it. So short I mistook it for an obituary. Come to think of it, it was an obituary, but for the irrelevant.
My phone buzzed in a message. Of course, of course. Who else could it be?
Astrid Leong: It worked.
Me: Told you.
Astrid Leong : Thank you. Saw the pictures. Johnny's good.
Me: Told you.
Astrid Leong : I can't believe they called my bangles cheap!
Me: Told you that, too.
Astrid Leong : And the plug at the end. Genius.
Me: Tell me I'm good.
Astrid Leong : You're good. Can you be my publicist?
Me: You can't afford me.
Astrid Leong : Uh, last time I checked my books, I'm pretty sure I can.
Me : Cheeky. I like it.
Astrid Leong : What are you doing today?
Trick question. Did I want to see Astrid after that kiss? I was awake until 3 am trying to figure out how I felt about that kiss. Strip everything to fundamentals, it was actually pretty good. Above average. And really really sweet. I couldn't remember the last time I was kissed like that. But, this was anything but fundamental. It was scripted and staged. It was gossip fodder. It wasn't real-real. Worst part of all, of all the people in all the gin joints in all the private yacht clubs, it just had to be Old Money New Generation Rich Like You Couldn't Even Dream Of Astrid Leong who should kiss me like that. My brain overheated just trying to estimate the risk-benefit analysis of being chummy with Astrid.
Old money is trouble, Araminta. When will you ever learn?
Me : Depends on who's asking.
Astrid Leong : I'm asking.
Me : Then OMG I'm so sorry. I'm meeting clients non-stop until tomorrow.
Astrid Leong : Asshole. Come on, let me treat you to lunch.
Me: You don't have to do that, Astrid.
Astrid Leong : It's the least I can do for the hassle I caused you.
Me : Fine. But, nothing expensive. I'm broke.
Astrid Leong : Sell the Costa chain, then.
Me : *gasp* Do not underestimate the revenue power of love motels. People need their sex.
Astrid Leong : You don't have to tell me that. I need iiiiiiiit…
Me: Astrid, sssshhhh, I'm not your friend. Don't say things like that.
Astrid Leong: You're not my friend? :(
Me: No.
Astrid Leong : :(
Me: Still a no.
Me : Stop pouting. Let's make it a late lunch. Text me where.
A little after 2 pm, I found myself in a non-descript restaurant by the sidewalk, figuring out a way to wolf down bowls of chili crab, golden calamari strips, crispy tofu, seafood fritters, steamed scallops with garlic, and drunken prawns. It was possible that the whole Pacific Ocean was on our table; given Astrid's small fortune, that wouldn't be as impossible as you think.
"Wow, if this is how you say thanks, I should do you favors more often."
"Come on, this is nothing." Astrid said, brushing it off with a dismissive hand, that was also crusted with minced garlic and chili. "Why did you go with it, though? I didn't think you cared."
"I don't. But, there was something assholey about the way he wanted to rub the award in your face. I hate assholes. And I hate Michael's software. Do you know that we're still writing losses for a shortage in Norwegian gravlaks and beluga caviar because his stupid supply chain product suite can't even properly report inventory?"
I cursed, raising a fist for that nightmarish stretch of inventory control chaos. It was punishment, too, for something else entirely. But, I wasn't really in the mood to talk about that. "I did it for the salmon!"
"On behalf of the salmon, thank you." She made a yoga-like, namaste bow.
I picked one of the calamari and popped it into my mouth. "From one of your exes to another, we're moving our system to Charlie Wu's. So far, test drive looks A-OK. All fish eggs accounted for. You have a thing for tech geeks, huh?"
"I didn't realize that. Are you saying I have a type?"
"I once built a billiards game on Excel," I murmured.
"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
"Nothing! I said I hope you're feeling well." I changed the subject before she could twist my arm into repeating my pathetic venture into programming. "Oh my god, that Charlie Wu of yours. He used to come to our house for playdates, and he would always be so snotty. Drool all over. Look at him now, so handsome and able to manage his mucus."
Astrid cackled, spewing bits of shrimp all around, earning the irate glare of tourists from the other table. The most uptight of them, a man in a wayward beard and thick horn-rimmed glasses, had the gall to shush us. If they only knew that the woman in the dark blue cotton shirt, hair in a loose bun, no jewelry except a tiny crescent of diamonds for earrings, owned the row of apartment buildings behind them.
"You're the only one I know who can put handsome and mucus in one sentence!"
"it's an art you can only dream to acquire." I said, in the most pretentious royal accent I could muster. "You ever regret dumping him?"
Astrid chewed on her bottom lip for a bit. "I did, for a time, yeah. But, it got to a point where I just got tired of it. I can't live my life losing to regret, right? So, I let it go. Like I'm gonna let this Michael phase go, eventually."
"Well, you're single now. You can go back to Charlie."
"I don't know. I think I ought to try something new," she said, squinting at me, a smirk on her face. Did she just - no, of course not. Astrid flirting with me would be as ridiculous as wearing socks with Crocs. Or wearing Crocs in the first place.
She must have sensed my unease and looked away, taking a sip of her tea before picking the last drunken prawn. "How about you? Anyone that got away?"
"Just one," I said, raising a finger.
"Do I know her?"
"Yes. But, I'm not gonna tell."
"Fair enough." Astrid said. She knocked on the table, trying to move us past the impasse. "You know what, I've never been to a Costa before."
"What do you mean, you haven't been to a Costa? Not even for…" I made a V with my fingers and pressed them to my lips, the universal gesture for a smoke. Or was that something else entirely? Oh, god. Did I mix up the gesture? Why was she blushing like an overripe tomato? Oh, fuck. I mixed it up. What kind of flaming lesbian mixed up gestures for a smoke and oral sex?
"What? No!" Astrid said defensively. "What reason would I have to check into a Costa?"
"Right. It's big-ass yachts or go bust with the lot of you."
"Like you don't own the biggest yacht at the marina."
"But, a night at the Costa is a rite of passage!" I deflected.
"Then, my lady, lead me to the passage."
And, that was that. After a pitstop for fruit pops, I took Astrid to the first hotel my parents ever built. It wasn't as shiny or modern as the other Costas. Truth be told, it wasn't selling well anymore; at this point, we were only keeping it for sentimental reasons. But, it was my favorite, so much that I had a private suite built right on top of it. I loved every bit of it. From the white awning that covered the entrance, to the teal and white paneling in the lobby, to the chintzy attempt at a tropical vibe with an excess of lush plants flanking the main stairway.
After a brief look-see at the lobby, I led Astrid to the private elevator out back, the one I had installed that went straight up to my roofdeck treehouse. 5 bedrooms with a chrome-finish kitchen that I should really be using more often. With glass panels all the way around, it afforded a 360-degree view of the city skyline. All systems – from home theater to air conditioning to toilet flushing - fully automated.
As soon as I stepped into the doorway, Alexa, my home assistant, churned out a litany of greetings.
"Good evening, Ms. Araminta. Remember. You are beautiful and strong and confident. You are amazing. You are awesome. You are wanted all over the world."
"What the fuck?" Astrid looked at me, trying to stifle a laugh, as Alexa recited the recorded affirmations.
"Alexa, switch off." I ordered, but it was already too late. Might as well accept the shame. I turned her back on and asked Alexa for the time. Almost sunset. The perfect set-up, if this were a date. Which it was not. So clearly not. I went to the wine cellar, and picked up a bottle of DRC 1990 before catching up with Astrid by the balcony.
"This is beautiful, Araminta. All my years in this city, how could I have missed this?"
"Told ya. Gotta look beyond the surface sometimes."
"Is that still about the Costa? Or are you projecting?" She took the glass of red wine and lifted it to her nose. "So, do you bring all your dates to this secret Costa suite?"
"Only the ones I like a lot."
"Awwww, are you saying you like me?"
"Are you saying this is a date?"
"Maybe," she muttered under her breath.
"You wish," I muttered back.
We both pretended not to hear each other.
"Ok. Here's a thought." Astrid offered, a toothy grin on her face. She patted my hand twice, aiming for a third before I recoiled it. Her palm made a soft thud against the metal railing. Clearly, whatever was in her head excited her.
"No."
"You haven't even heard it yet!"
"If it's as good as your escape plan last night, I don't want to hear it."
"Ouch, Araminta. You gotta shoot right through my miserable, post-break-up heart."
"You're playing the break-up card? Really? How original."
She placed a hand over her heart, scrunched up her face and pretended to burst into tears. She looked like such a caricature I couldn't help but giggle.
"Fine, fine." I surrendered. "Let's hear you think."
"Right, so the launch of your new club is two months away, yes?"
"The Paraiso Club, yes." Where was she going with this?
"What if… we keep this up until then? Feed the rumors until the launch. That way, you can – what's your term for it, generate the hype? – do that and rake in the millions that I cost you by leaving the Tattler gala early."
Cute. She wanted to be clickbait. But, why? "What's in it for you?"
"Since the break-up, this is the first time I've showered for two straight days. And you agreeing for lunch made that happen." Astrid said, a nervous laugh escaping from her mouth. I knew what it felt like, this attempt to make light of the suffocating weight of a messy and quite public (as public as the Leongs allowed, of course) heartbreak. The vicious cycle of self-doubt, self-blame, self-loathing, that kept you rooted to your bed from sun-up to sundown. The aversion towards going out in public, for fear that you'd be looked at as the fool who thought she could be happy in this life. I was her once; fuck if I let anybody, even someone I had learned to measure myself against, go through that again.
"Bonus that I get to hang out with the one and only Araminta Lee, breaker of hearts."
"Ha! Not scared I'd break yours?" I teased.
"If it's all play, what's there to break?"
My risk-benefit analysis on Astrid Leong just broke. The numbers didn't add up. This didn't make sense. Fine, I thought to myself. If Astrid Leong wanted to play, if that was how she wanted to get over this break-up, then let's play. "Fine, fine. Let's turn your idea into gold. Let's take these fuckers for a trip."
I reached out for a handshake, but she wagged a finger in the air. "One more thing, I get free membership. Lifetime."
"20 % discount." I countered.
"50 and we have a deal."
"40, lifetime, or it's over."
"Deal," she conceded. "Oh, but one more thing."
"You said that 5 seconds ago!" I said, with a slightly annoyed groan.
"I know, but I forgot this important bit."
"What?"
"We're friends now."
"Show me your jewelry collection first. And your art collection."
"Deal."
"And stop gripping me so hard. What are you? On some lesbian finger strength workout routine?"
And, finally, finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of haggling on this mockery of a contract, we shook hands. She held my hand a tad longer, tugging a little when I made to pull my hand back. Was this how Leongs shook hands? Or, was she - no, no, no. Astrid Leong wouldn't flirt with me. But, here she was, piercing through me with a strange and dark gaze. Was she going to kiss me again? My phone buzzed with a call from the concierge downstairs; whether it was a saved-by-the-bell or a ruined-by-the-bell moment, I couldn't quite decide.
"Perfect timing. Paps downstairs right now. Wanna do this?"
As we exited the suite, Alexa droned a casual "Goodbye, Ms. Araminta. Remember. You are beautiful and strong and confident. You are amazing. You are awesome. You are wanted all over the world.", leaving Astrid in a fit of laughter, and me in a fit of picking up what was left of my dignity on the glass tiles of the elevator. Clearly, I didn't think that one detail through well enough.
When we landed downstairs, I caught her by the wrist and pressed the hold button with my free hand. "One question before we go out there: how low does your gag order go?"
She gave me that calm, knowing smile again, twisting my insides into tight little knots. She took a couple of steps and leaned against the back wall, folding her arms across her chest. "Give it your worst shot."
I winked at her, before letting the elevator open to the mayhem, the camera flashes like low-hanging stars exploding right before our eyes. I stepped outside first, head hung low with a scowl on my face, with Astrid not too far behind.
