Chapter 7

Pam’s slight frame slid across the back seat of the limousine and practically landed in Sylvia’s lap as the driver recklessly took a corner at a speed worthy of the Palisades Parkway and not the streets of the upper eastside of Manhattan. Sylvia scowled threateningly at the driver, who snarled defiantly back through his rear view mirror. She assumed that since they’d made such a scene at Marty’s party, a thrill ride in the back of his limousine was probably part of Marty’s payback. It was either that, or the driver went insane. Either way, Sylvia had borne it long enough and if he didn’t stop this recklessness she was going to do something drastic, like beat him over the head with the heel of her four-inch Jimmy Choo’s.

Pam was hesitant about accepting the thin lace trimmed handkerchief Sylvia produced from her Chanel evening bag. It seemed too fine to be used to blot at the blood oozing from her lip, but, at Sylvia’s insistence