Oscar Season

i>? Chapter One Staff members of the Pinnacle Hotel in Los Angeles received their Oscar Night Survival Kits at their annual Oscar Season Summit, held three days before nominations were announced. The black leather fanny packs (donated by Coach) contained the following: two pairs of cufflinks, two bow ties (one clip, one traditional), one set of tweezers, three makeup brushes, two compacts each of eye shadow and blush (donated by M.A.C), three lipsticks (one gloss, one matte, one shimmer, all Chanel), four tubes of concealer in various skin tones, a dozen tiny safety pins, a roll of toupee tape (for preventing wardrobe malfunctions), a sewing kit, a tube of hair gel, a lint brush, a tin of breath mints, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a small vial of Xanax. "The Xanax is, of course, for guests only," Juliette Greyson said as she handed out the packs. "And only in case of emergency." "Where are the cyanide capsules?" asked Gregory Bridges, director of rooms and entertainment sales. "Where are the tranquilizer darts?" "You will see in the small outside pocket a laminated card with a list of names and phone numbers for anyone you might possibly need," Juliette continued, pointedly ignoring Gregory. "Hair, jewelry, handbags, physicians, pharmacies, yoga instructors, personal trainers, psychiatrists, animal psychiatrists," she said with emphasis, aiming her words at Gregory, who, with a gleam in his eye, had opened his mouth to remind her of what the staff now referred to asThe Strange Incident of the Dog on Oscar Night, when a A-nominee's Labradoodle had howled from the time she left the hotel until the moment she won her award, "cosmetic stores, perfumeries, aromatherapists, and, of course, the concierge service at Saks, A-Neiman's, and Barneys. These are all culled from last A-year's debriefing session and if you have a number you think should be added, please see me after the meeting." "You're kidding, right?" said Louisa Halston, the head concierge. She hefted her bag without opening it, then tossed it onto the table. "I A-don't need this, Hans certainly A-doesn't need this." Louisa nodded at the head chef. "Unless you think A-he's going to be doing dress repairs in the kitchen. We have all of this available at the concierge desk, except," she added with a smirk, "the mints. But who needs mints during Oscar season? A-They're in every pocket of every publicist in town." "Not in adorable tins with the Pinnacle logo," said Gregory sweetly. "Not created from an award-A-winning recipe by our world-A-famous pastry chef." Juliette nodded at him and again ignored the sarcasm in his voice. God knows she was used to it; as the person who decided who got which room in the hotel, Gregory was treated like a prince by every publicist in town and he never let Juliette, or anyone else on the staff, get away with one single thing. But Juliette knew that his sharp tongue was just a camouflage. He quietly doled out the mountains of swag he received to room attendants and bellhops, waiters and custodians, while loudly complaining about the worthlessness of just about everyone. It was what Juliette valued most about him; he kept the staff from taking themselves too seriously. "These," she said, pulling the tin out of her pack and holding it up so the entire group could see, "are the crack cocaine of breath mints. Everyone will want them and they are only available in one place -- the lobby of the Pinnacle Hotel. As for the packs, Louisa, you were the one who..." -- she paused for a moment; "complained" would have been accurate, but no Pinnacle staff member complained; it was against company policy -- "observedthat your staff spent too much time running up and down the stairs last year. While the aerobic fitness of our staff is legendary, these packs will allow each of us to provide our guests with basic support, which should allow Oscar night to run with evenMcNamara, Mary is the author of 'Oscar Season', published 2008 under ISBN 9781416539919 and ISBN 1416539913.