In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

"No, about us."
"Huh?"
"No, you remember, The Consequences of Entitlement?"
"Oh, puhlease!"
"We met in Paris. I had Mario get him to the hospital for his
lungs, he was a mess. So, he stay at the house, my mother is too busy
here competing with me for an early grave, so it is okay. Rosalinda is
from Lucca and takes care of his convalescence and he finishes the
book, about us, about Dick Schwanz Enterprises and the things he has
done through the years and it has just been published. Even better, he
knows how things work in France, from his research and from his
knowledge of history, well, film. He has sent anonymous letters and
emails to all the papers, to all the society people, to the politicians,
everyone. Even Interpol cannot stop this. It will become a
Baudrilliardian monster of the masses and engulf Dick in the mountain
of his own filth. Already, Liberation has interviewed Pete about his
book, and he has appeared on Bouillon de Culture! This is it, amore
mio, D-Day. Dick will die of shame, perhaps even in prison!"
"Wow. Hey, I thought you said Pete was on the lam."
"Pete? Oh, that was just about money."
She remembered him zapping the green screen, exhaling those
swirls of dragon smoke. Mumbling nonsense about praying and
patience.
"Money. Gonna need a lotta that, once the shit hits the fan,
huh?"
"Dun't worry, I have taken care of it. There is an account, for
you alone, this is the number. The key is in the angel frame." He
whispered the number.
"Hey Sandro, I can't remember this number now!"
"It is also written on the back, in sepia like an antique catalogue
number," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder as they turned
the corner on Grand to get the elevator.
Into the rice cooker went water, rice and one star anise seed.
Penny placed her flexible cutting mat on the marble slab by the couch
and cubed her tofu, sprinkled it with soy sauce, sesame oil, dusted on
five spice, smashed and diced the garlic, the ginger, sliced the lotus
root, cut up her asparagus, Chinese style, at an angle, then minced some
cilantro, green onion and put each in a bowl. She chopped the baby
bok choy, mizuna and some lush mystery leaves that looked like a cross
between spinach and beet greens. She wiped the marble clean and
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