Prism & PenThat night at the Rainbow Room, I left a flowing, ankle-length white cashmere coat in the cloakroom. My fingers sparkled with jeweled rings. The young man who handed me my check ticket gave me the look, that too-lingering eyelock that said he was family, a Friend of Dorothy. Then he looked Lenny up and down and breathed, Qué rico, just loud enough for me to hear.
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