Alice was waiting curbside when Tina walked outside. Marina was leaning against a brick column, fiddling with her cell phone. “Ok,” Tina called, “see you in an hour. Marina, did you get ahold of Dana?”

“Line’s busy.” A faint frown worried at her brow.

“Keep trying. She needs to be there. I think in some ways, she knows Shane best.”

Marina blanked her face and nodded, punched up the menu and dialed again.

Tina started to climb into Alice’s car then turned to Bette. “You need to call Kit. She’ll want to know what’s going on.” What she didn’t say hung cold in the air. The thought of Bette having to tell her alcoholic failure of a sister how she’d fucked up a seven-year marriage brought Tina a certain amount of grim satisfaction.

Bette nodded unhappily and fished around for her cell phone. “I’ll go get the car,” she told Marina and walked away as she speed dialed Kit’s number, took a ragged breath and prayed her sister didn’t answer.

Tonya picked up on the third ring this time. Marina asked for Dana. “Oh she’s really busy right now. Can I give her a message?” Tonya chirped.

“No, Tonya. This is important. I need to talk to her now.” Marina tried to keep the anger out of her voice. This woman annoyed her. Somehow, in her mind, Tonya always managed to sound like Dana’s old agent. Slick. And just slightly too well-oiled.

“Who is this?” Dana’s intended snapped.

“Marina Ferrer,” she answered coldly.

“Oh,” Tonya chirped again, in a mockingly friendly tone, “Marina. I’m sure Dana will call you back as soon as she can.”

“Tonya,” Marina answered through clenched teeth, “if she’s not dead or in the bathroom, go get her. Now!”

Tonya blew an exasperated breath into the receiver. “Well! I don’t know!”

“Put. Her. On.”

Tonya yelled into the dining room, where Dana was doing nothing more important than leafing through the latest trade magazines to check for her new print ads. “Honey! Do you have time to talk to Marina? I know you’re busy but ….”

Dana snatched the phone out of Tonya’s hand. “Marina! Hey! How are you?”