My mind suddenly snapped back to the present moment, in subway with Javier. I realized I had the bag with Mary Todd Lincoln's shawl in it now clasped tightly around my neck as I listened and recollected. Was the ghost of America's 16th First Lady trying

            "Blue hair?" I turned and inquired with shock to my friend Javier, almost hitting him with my bag which contained an antique shawl that had once belonged to Mary Todd Lincoln.

        "Yep!

            Over the course of the conversation I gathered that she was calling from a lovely 18th century West Indies plantation home in Barbados. She chatted and giggled in that way she does, and she and Mr. Thompson swapped inside jok

            Lunch is my favorite sport. No event offers more thrills, spills, challenges and rewards. The "eating" part? That's usually just the intermission. This is the story of a lunch that took place several years ago in New York.

&

            She was sitting on the dark banquette, and her torso being long, she had the appearance of someone with average height. That's why she didn't want to dance!

            "When are we going to meet at the greasy chopstick next?" I asked.

            Greasy chopstick wasn't fair. The sushi restaurant Beth and I were sitting in had

         "Oh, God!" I groaned.

         "Yeah, he didn't flinch, but inside I knew Teddy's jaw just hit the floor."

         Our waiter brushed by our table to give the t

         One morning I received a telephone call from a man who had looked me up on the internet. He said he had some items that had once belonged to Judy Garland that I might be interested in. He described the objects as "handles."

            Great secrets in New York City are like good friends, sharing them with others can be a gamble. Lobster salad on a croissant at Zaybar's, for $4.50, has got to be one of the best culinary secrets in the city. I'l

            All of those events came full circle with Flora and me now standing on the front step of 4 Cogdon Lane in London, laughing as the footsteps of doom approached to catch me with my hand in the cookie jar, or in the mail slot. W

            Six months later, I found myself in Shanghai, on business. I'd received a call at the apartment I was staying in from my brother in Houston, saying that my father had died. I was surprised when I heard it, because yo

         And there we were. We continued to swap Judy tales over coffee and tea. She had actually interviewed Liza Minnelli and Lorna Luft, Judy's daughters, for her blog. It was fascinating to hear her stories. I had been busy bragging about a man I'd

            I was committing a crime at Number 4 Cogedon Lane. The rush of adrenaline quickened my movements, causing a flush of nervous perspiration to collect under my Hermes silk ascot. My friend Flora kept a nervous lookou

 
           Sitting behind my new desk on the first day of my new job, I probably appeared self-assured. I was working at the offices of José Maligno, the renowned architect and interior designer. He was a man who "did" Valentin

         Two weeks later was Christmas. I had met several of her friends through the holiday, who all were very suspicious of me, and rightfully so. It was always like a Dark Shadows episode, or that scene in Sunset Boulevard where Gloria Swanson is pl

         We sat in the Metropolitan Club, noticing what a beautiful Spring day it was outside. The sun was shining through the large windows in the grand room which served as a spot for an elegant luncheon. I was the guest of the Tut, daughter of one o

            As Harold walked into my apartment for lunch, he was met with loud wafts from a newly reissued CD recording of Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall that I'd bought, which mingled with sounds of thick marijuana smoke. Harold came for

            This being a collection of short stories about lunch, I must tell you about the time I was sitting in McDonald's at midnight, in the middle of Shanghai, where my good friend Tiki and I were eating cheeseburgers (I had two) an