The bottle sets itself down by her elbow, and through the amber liquid, she sees a wrinkled white shirt and wild black curls - the lady reporter, the one who walks like a man and talks like a man and does her lipliner like a woman - and Kiki holds up a hand to protest, but a throaty trill echoes in the hospital corridor.
"Darling girl, you've taken your share of punches tonight, between your incomparable poise during that interview and not actually strangling Angus McCain . . . though I would toast to your good sense if you had strangled that bootlicking toad, you were, in a word, magnificent."
She'd thought it was only going to be Freddie who cared about her - Freddie lying in the bed in the room around the corner, put there by Cilenti because he'd gotten to her - and she's touched that it's been everyone, accepting her in their own way (Bel bringing her in the ambulance, Hector giving her his jacket, Mr. Brown calmly waving off the sister blocking her path, and now Miss Storm with her kind eyes and her very good whiskey toasting to Kiki's courage).
The Hour, Kiki Delaine & Lix Storm
"Darling girl, you've taken your share of punches tonight, between your incomparable poise during that interview and not actually strangling Angus McCain . . . though I would toast to your good sense if you had strangled that bootlicking toad, you were, in a word, magnificent."
She'd thought it was only going to be Freddie who cared about her - Freddie lying in the bed in the room around the corner, put there by Cilenti because he'd gotten to her - and she's touched that it's been everyone, accepting her in their own way (Bel bringing her in the ambulance, Hector giving her his jacket, Mr. Brown calmly waving off the sister blocking her path, and now Miss Storm with her kind eyes and her very good whiskey toasting to Kiki's courage).