CHAPTER ONE

Elle Woods looked at the reflection of her sorority sisters Margot and
Serena in the mirror. She was sitting on a pink chair decorated with pink
faux fur that matched the blanket on her bed, where her Chihuahua,
Underdog, was sitting.

"Look at them!" Serena pointed to her chest. "My boobs are as great
as the day I had them done!"

"They are, they are," Margot said. "They're totally awesome."

Margot's puffy lips were covered with a purple lip-gloss that matched her
new Nike trainers.

"They're also blocking the light in this room," Elle whispered to

Underdog, who looked up. Both Underdog and Elle had heard Serena and
Margot's discussion of boobs and other improvements many times before.
Elle was not interested because her father, the popular Beverly Hills plastic
surgeon Dr. Wyatt Woods, had done a lot of these things. Anyway, Elle had
a more important thing to think about.

"Have you guys totally forgotten? Tonight could be the night!" Elle
shouted to get Serena's and Margot's attention. "I need to look perfect. I
want everything to be right tonight!"

"Of course I didn't forget," Serena said, turning to Elle. "I even have a
Cosmo tip for you. I read that you can totally win someone if you copy their
body language. The article said that Jennifer did that with Brad."

"Warner has to propose to you tonight, Elle," Margot added. "Tonight

is your third anniversary. Plus I checked your horoscope. It's your time to
make important decisions."

Elle looked at herself again in the mirror and decided she needed a bit
more blush. She had long blonde hair and a very pretty face. Her huge blue
eyes shone with kindness, and her slim figure fit perfectly into her new red
dress.
 "In fact, Elle," Serena said. "Look what I have here!" She showed
them a copy of In Style with J-Lo on the cover.

"Oh my God!" Margot shrieked. "Not that one. Don't you know
anything? J-Lo should have never appeared on that cover! There's an In
Style Weddings curse. Like three of their cover brides got divorced!"

"That's true," Elle said, "but that was totally sweet of you, Serena."

The sorority house intercom suddenly interrupted them: "Warner's

here, Elle."

"Keep your fingers crossed!" Elle said to Serena and Margot as she
checked her appearance again, still worried about the dress she had chosen.
"Are you sure this is the right dress?" she asked her friends.

"Maybe you should be wearing pink. It is your signature color?"

Serena said.

Elle was suddenly unsure of her choice. Would it be the dress she
would want to tell her great-grandchildren about when she told them stories
about the night Warner proposed? What if it looked stupid by then?

"No, Elle, that's it," Margot said. "I'm positive! Red is the color of
confidence."

"Well, I don't want to look like I expect anything." Elle said, checking
the diamond earrings Warner had given her for her birthday. They were in
place.

"He'll ask. You know it's coming, Elle," Serena said, annoyed.
"Anyway, Margot's right. Red is better."

"Group hug!" Margot shouted, and suddenly Elle was squashed

between the two girls.

Warner stood waiting in the foyer. His tall, blonde, and handsome
looks always left all of Elle's sorority sisters in silence. As Elle came up to
him, he pulled her close with one arm while holding a dozen pink roses in
the other.

Elle hugged him and smiled. "Margot, will you put these in a vase for
me?" she asked her friend, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs with
the rest of the Delta Gamma house, all trying to look casual while staring at
the couple with interest and a little envy.

"I'll do it," Serena said, stepping in front with In Style Weddings

under her arm. "Warner, you look fantastic. Anything special planned for
tonight?"

Warner looked at Serena and gave her a smile.

"Every night with Elle is special," he said. He gave Elle a smile too.
"Come on, Elle. I don't want to be late."

As Warner led her through the Delta Gamma front door, Elle looked
back at Serena and Margot, who were giving her thumbs-up.

CHAPTER TWO

Warner held the door of his black Mercedes convertible for Elle, and
she got into the leather seat. She looked up at the stars in the sky,
remembering that Cosmo had said that tonight was the night. They drove
for a while in silence.

"I hope you won't be disappointed, Elle," Warner said. "I know you
wanted to go to our favorite place, the Beach House, but I thought we
should go to the Ivy tonight, since it's the place where this all began." He
smiled at Elle and placed his hand on her thigh.

"You could never disappoint me," Elle replied. "Our first date was one
of the most amazing nights of my life." She looked at Warner's face and
thought how lucky she was and how she'd be even luckier by the end of this
wonderful night. There could be nothing better than spending the rest of her
life with Warner Huntington III.
 When Elle walked into the Ivy, even though the restaurant was filled
with long-legged blondes and movie stars, her beauty and sweet smile made
her stand out. Several men tried to get her attention as she and Warner
walked to their table. Warner liked seeing that the other men admired Elle.

A waiter came up to their table and brought the menus.

"Actually, we're ready to order," Warner said without looking at the

menu or the waiter and ordered a bottle of Cristal.

He must be so nervous, Elle thought, and felt sorry for him, as he had
to ask the biggest question of his life.

"Tonight is so wonderful, Warner, and I plan to celebrate all night,"

Elle said. Then she noticed that he was looking around the room. "Is
something wrong, honey?" Elle asked as the waiter brought the champagne.

"Nothing at all, Elle," Warner replied. "In fact, things couldn't be

better." He smiled.

Elle just knew this was it. Maybe it was a little strange that Warner
wasn't waiting until after dinner with the ring, but, she decided, he must be
too nervous to wait.

"Elle," he began in a low, confident voice, "the last three years with
you have been perfect." Elle sighed and smiled. "Tonight, I want to share
the best news with you." Warner paused and waited until the waiter filled
their glasses and left them alone again. "Well, first, darling, I have
something I want to give you."

Elle closed her eyes and moved her left hand closer to Warner, hoping
this would help him put that "something" on her finger. She could hardly
control herself not to cry out, Yes! Yes! I will marry you!

"I want to give you this reminder of our time together," Warner said
quietly.
 Elle frowned. Why did he call an engagement ring a "reminder"? She
wondered. Then she opened her eyes in confusion as she felt how Warner
turned her left hand and put something on her palm.

"Warner, what are you doing?" Elle asked as she stared at the Cartier
bracelet she had given him on their second anniversary. It said Elle and
Warner forever.

"I thought you'd want me to return it," he replied sweetly.

"Return it?" Elle said. "Why would you do that?"

"Well, I knew when you gave it to me that I could never return your
feelings, so I thought..." He looked around.

Elle stared at him in disbelief. She shook her head to clear her
thoughts.

"What I mean is, I thought now would be a good time to give it back.
We're not going to be together forever, Elle. You know that. It was a sweet
idea, but I've decided to change my life and get serious. I think we should
break up before I leave for Stanford Law School." He paused, waiting for
her to say something. When she didn't and just stared at him, he continued
quickly. "Oh, right, did I forget to tell you I've decided to go to law school
next year? That's the good news I wanted to tell you."

"What are you talking about?" Elle's voice was louder than usual.
Suddenly, she started sobbing. Warner looked around the restaurant
nervously. "When you said you'd always love me, were you just optimistic?
And when you said you'd never felt this way about anyone before, were you
lying? And how could you make a decision about your life, our lives, like
law school without telling me? How long have you known?"

"I didn't lie, Elle," Warner whispered, hoping that other people
wouldn't hear them. "I never told you that I felt the same way you did, did
I? Think about it." Before Elle could answer, he took her hands in his.
"Listen, honey, this is really hard for me. Can't you see that? You know how
much my family expects of me and the high standards I set for myself..."
 Elle interrupted him by pulling her hands away from him. She glared
at him, but Warner continued.

"I had to ask myself, 'Warner is it worth living with a girl who will
never be serious enough to be my wife or the mother of my children?' Do
you know how hard it was for me, Elle?" He paused fora moment, looking
at her boobs. "Really hard," he added.

Elle left the table and walked out of the restaurant. Warner took out
his wallet, threw some money on the table, and ran after her.

Outside, Elle wanted to ask the valet to call a cab for her when
Warner appeared behind them, and the valet ran to get the car.

"Come on, Elle," Warner said. "Let me take you home."

At that, moment home was just where she wanted to be, and the faster
she could get there, the better. She agreed.

Sitting in the car, Elle could not believe what had just happened. She
stared at Warner's perfect face. This is not happening, she said to herself. Be
strong. It all felt like a drama where bad things happened to good-looking
people.

Warner stopped in front of the Delta Gamma house. When he noticed

that Elle was waiting for him to get out and open the car door for her as he
had always done before, he just gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and said,
"See you, Elle."

Elle got out of the car and went into the house totally devastated
while Warner turned the music on and drove away.
 CHAPTER THREE

Trying hard to hide her tears, Elle Woods walked into the big TV
room of the University of Southern California Delta Gamma house. Not
expecting Elle to come home so early, Margot and Serena were watching
The Osbournes.

They didn't even hear Elle coming in or see her tear-stained face until
finally she cried out, "What about some sisterhood? You're supposed to be
my best friends! Maybe I should've been a Theta!"

Serena and Margot looked at their friend and gasped. Mascara was all
over Elle's face as she fell onto the couch.

"Warner... broke... up... with... me!" Elle cried, sobbing. "It's o-o-o-
over."

"You didn't get the ring?" Margot asked. She looked as if she might
start crying too.

"It's not another girl, is it?" Serena asked. "I'll kill her!"

"No, no." Elle shook her head. "It's not... it couldn't be."

Serena and Margot stared at Elle, then at each other, in disbelief.

Everyone knew Elle and Warner were perfect together. If Elle and Warner
weren't getting married, what would happen to the rest of them?
 CHAPTER FOUR

Elle, Serena, and Margot went upstairs to Elle's room, which only a
few hours before had been filled with joy and expectations. The room's pink
walls were covered by photos of smiling blonde Delta Gammas. Tonight,
however, the three girls looked gloomy.

"Everything was normal, at first," Elle began after Margot served

them three pink margaritas with pink straws. "We were at the restaurant,
and the mood was perfect. Then Warner basically told me: 'Elle, when I
start law school, I think we should stop seeing each other.' Boom! He's
moving to Stanford Law School, and he needs to find someone more
'serious.'"

"'More serious!' What's that supposed to mean? Serious about what?"

Margot asked.

"I don't know what it means!" Elle said angrily. "That's what he told
me. He said, 'Elle, I'm ready for someone more serious.' Just like that!" Elle
wiped a tear as Margot poured more pink margaritas.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Margot asked. "There is no better
girl, no better Delta Gamma, no better wife for Warner Huntington III."

"Right!" agreed Serena. "Since when has he decided that he was too
good for Miss June? You were certainly fine for him at his important Sigma
Chi fraternity parties."

Elle had been Miss June on the USC calendar for three years. She was
president of Delta Gamma and of the Intersorority Council. She had
invented her own major in sociopolitical jewelry design and beauty myths.
She remembered how proud Warner was when she won homecoming queen
last October and was driving around the stadium in her white BMW
convertible.
 "There are much better guys than Warner, Elle," Serena said. "And
they are dying to date you."

Thinking about other guys made Elle cry harder. Her perfectly tanned
shoulders shook with every sob. "I was just positive Warner was going to
propose to me tonight! I feel so humiliated!" She looked sadly at her left
hand. "Why did he tell me about the ring, the Rock, if he wasn't going to
marry me?"

"Elle, he's such a manipulator," Serena said. "I told you, he doesn't
care about anything except himself and his resume."

Warner was president of the student senate, a first boat rower in

school, and a pitcher on USC's baseball team. Warner often said how
impressive his college resume would look when he ran for president. The
second son in his family, he had come to this school because he didn't want
to follow his older brother to Harvard. He was tired of being second.

"Wasn't his grandfather a senator or something?" Margot asked.

Elle nodded. "Mmm-hmm, from Connecticut. For like fifty years."

Warner had often told Elle that family tradition would lead him into
politics. His Grandma Huntington never let Warner forget that his blood
was blue.

"I should've seen it coming when Grandma Huntington came to L.A.

for Warner's birthday last month," Elle said. "Warner hasn't been the same
since. Grandma ignored me at the dinner, and when she was leaving, she
told me that I reminded her of Pamela Anderson!"

"Ewww! I'm Pamela Anderson!" Serena and Margot said together.

That was a real insult.

Underdog jumped on the couch, and Elle stroked his soft ears and
looked into his brown eyes. "You still love me, Underdog," she said to him,
straightening the pink bow on his rhinestone collar.
 CHAPTER FIVE

That night Elle and her two best friends stayed up late, making plans
on how to bring Warner back.

At around 3:00 A.M. Elle decided that she would go to law school. If
Warner was going to Stanford Law School to find someone "serious," he
was going to find one serious Elle Woods.

Elle spent the rest of the fall semester studying for the Law School
Aptitude Test, which she had decided to take in January.

Three months later, Elle was smiling as she returned from the LSAT.
She finished the silly test four minutes early.

Several days after the exam, Elle walked into her mother's Los
Angeles art gallery.

"Kiss noise!" Elle's mother said when she saw her. Elle and her
mother exchanged air kisses not to ruin each other's makeup.

"Mother, I've got some news that may surprise you," Elle announced
nervously as she sat into a chair in her mother's office.

"Oh, darling! You're finally marrying Warner!" Eva guessed.

Elle had always told her mother everything, but she couldn't tell her
about the awful October night when Warner dumped her. She knew her
mother would be devastated. Her mother had always told Elle that a
woman's biggest achievement was getting a rich husband.

"No, Mother," Elle said, "not yet. The news is, I've decided not to
work in the gallery this fall. I'm... well... I've decided to go back to school."

"Design or film, dear?" Eva smiled, but Elle could see her
disappointment.
 "I'm going to law school."

Eva almost jumped up. She stared at Elle for several moments before
she could speak. "Law school? What are you talking about? Darling, one
must pass tests for that and..."

"Oh, I know," Elle said, and laughed nervously. "I've already taken
the test, and I think I passed it. It may seem strange, Mother, but I just
totally want to be a lawyer."

"I see," Eva said. "Have you applied to schools already?"

"Well, of course! I applied to Harvard, and Pepperdine as a backup.

And Stanford too, I think." She paused. "Yes, those three, definitely," Elle
lied. She had only applied to Stanford. Why would she go to a school that
didn't have Warner in it?

"Well, your father will be devastated!" Eva said.

Elle thought that when she brought Warner back, both of her parents
would be happy.

In late April, while standing in the foyer of the Delta Gamma house
looking through her mail, Elle found a very thin envelope from Stanford.
She ran upstairs to her room, praying it was a letter of acceptance. After all,
she had a 4.0 GPA, a perfect LSAT score, and tons of extracurricular
activities. She also hoped that Stanford had liked her personal statement.

In her bedroom, Elle opened the letter with shaking hands and began
to read: "Dear Ms. Woods, we are pleased to accept you..."

After graduation, Elle moved back to her parents', and from that day,
with Underdog at her side, she began the project of becoming someone
"serious."

At first, she wanted to turn to Cosmo for advice. However, when

Serena found pictures of Warner's brother and his bride in Town and
Country', Elle knew that it was her new bible.
 Over the summer, with Town Country under her arm, Elle shopped at
the malls, exchanged her BMW convertible for a Range Rover, and bought
a pair of glasses. She also began wearing pearls.

In August, Elle Woods was ready. She packed her flowery dresses and
pink furry slippers, zipped her Louis Vuittons, and went up north with
Underdog.
 CHAPTER SIX

Elle couldn't believe how depressing the university dormitory was.

Her dorm room was smaller than her closet at home. Elle looked at her
watch and realized she was already late. She left her dorm room with the
puzzled moving men trying to fit all her stuff in, and drove to orientation.

She parked the Range Rover and started thinking what to do with
Underdog.

"Sorry, dear," Elle said to the dog. "I'll take care of this really fast, and
you can wait in the car." She poured Evian into his pink travel dish, opened
the windows slightly, turned on his favorite CD, and left.

The crowd in the courtyard in front of Stanford Law School reminded

her of summer camps. Groups of proud parents stood talking to their
prodigies with terrible Hello My Name Is tags on their chests. Elle thought
about her parents who didn't want to see her "wasting her talents at law
school." Second-year law students worked at tables selling Stanford Law
bumper stickers, T-shirts, sweatshirts, coffee mugs, pens, notebooks, and
backpacks.

Elle looked for an alphabetical line to guide her, but Stanford had a
different system. "If you went to Harvard, pick up your name tag here,"
read one sign. "If you went to Brown, pick up your name tag here," said the
other. There was an MIT Cal Tech table and the Smith too. Nervously, Elle
came up to the "State Schools, except Penn (Ivy)", not sure if the University
of Southern California was actually a state school. There was no nametag
for her there.

Walking past these signs, Elle felt terrified. Maybe that acceptance
letter had been a joke, a mistake? But at the far end she saw a single table
with the sign that she knew was meant only for her.
 "If you went to Santa Monica Community College for summer
school, pick up your name tag here," read the sign.

Nobody was there, and Elle's nametag and her orientation schedule
lay on the table under a rock. "Very funny," Elle said, blushing. She had
passed her math exams at Santa Monica but certainly didn't think of it as
her alma mater. She put the terrible nametag into her Prada bag and quickly
went to the second row of tables.

Pushing past badly dressed people, Elle found a young woman who
wasn't with her parents, and asked her if she knew where they were
supposed to go next. Somehow, the woman looked familiar.

"I don't know." The woman said. She looked Elle up and down and
shrugged. "I'm waiting for my fiance."

"Thanks," Elle said and moved to a nearby table to look at the

pamphlets there. Finally, she found a wooden bench, sat down, and read her
orientation schedule for the next day.

Tuesday

9:00 A.M. - 10:00 A.M. Registration

10:00 A.M. - 12:00 P.M. Book Purchase

12:00 P.M. - 1:30 P.M. Barbecue

1:30 P.M.-3:00 P.M. Campus Tour (including Law Library)

3:00 P.M. - 5:00 P.M. You and Others: Meet and Greet

5:00 P.M. - 7:00 P.M. Dean's Welcome

7:00 P.M. Pizza Party

 "Terrible," Elle said and groaned. The pizza and barbecue were bad
enough, plus the schedule covered every minute of the day. How could she
even begin unpacking her stuff before classes started on Thursday? She
thought of Underdog and decided to go to the bookstore immediately to
avoid the "book purchase" rush the next day. But when she found the Law
section, she saw a crowd. Bad luck: dozens of eager law students were
already staring at the casebooks they would soon read.

Elle gathered her twelve heavy casebooks and took her place at the
end of the line. An MP3 player and sunglasses would've been a good idea,
she thought as she tried to ignore people and noise around her. She pulled
out. I's September issue and turned the pages trying to show that she was
doing an important reading. Eventually, totally annoyed, Elle left the line,
thinking that there was no need for her to miss her regular manicure time.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

At nine o'clock the next morning, Elle was back at the law school for
registration.

"Elle!" Warner exclaimed with surprise when he saw her. "What are
you doing here?" He looked with curiosity at Elle's flowery dress and
pearls.

"I'm registering. Like everybody else." She hadn't seen Warner, and
his simple question caught her off guard. Elle noticed that Warner's yellow
shirt matched his hair. A pale, frowning brunette was standing beside him.
Elle recognized the woman she had met at the orientation. She had thought
of a million lines to say to Warner alone, but seeing him with another
woman ruined her confidence.

"Registering for what? This isn't the design department, Elle." Warner
laughed.

"Really? I'm happy to hear that! Otherwise, I would have been

standing in the wrong line for hours to register for, like, fashion design
when I came all the way here to enter law school," Elle answered, smiling.
She glanced at the young woman who was pulling Warner's sleeve for his
attention.

"This is... Sarah," Warner said, turning to her. Elle stared at Sarah
through the pink sunglasses and tried to smile.

"We went to the same school," Warner said. Now Elle remembered
seeing pictures of Sarah in Warner's Groton yearbook. Her grandfather's
portrait was on a postage stamp. Grandma Huntington must be quite happy.

Elle and Sarah shook hands. "I'm sure Warner's told you about me,"
Elle said. Sarah looked at her with contempt. To her, Elle was like a Barbie
doll - certainly nothing like the friends she'd had at Groton.
 Warner had told Sarah about Elle, but he hadn't needed to. Everyone
knew about Warner's foolish college girlfriend. "Mark my words, that
woman will never, never call herself a Huntington," Grandma Huntington
had often said at family dinners.

With her right hand, Sarah straightened the huge diamond ring on her
left hand. "I'm Sarah Knottingham. Warner's fiancee," she said.

Elle couldn't believe her ears. She stared with her mouth open at
Sarah, the Rock, and Warner, trying to understand what had just happened.
She thought it was a nightmare and shut her eyes, hoping that when she
opened them, it would disappear.

But it didn't.

In her dorm room, Elle fell on her bed. "Underdog, you have to stay
quiet," she told her Chihuahua. "You're not allowed here, but I need a
friend." She sighed. Then she got up, put on her Delta Gamma T-shirt, and
began unpacking.

"What am I doing here?" Elle sighed again, sitting down on the floor
among the boxes. A narrow bed, a desk, and a chair were the only furniture
in her gloomy new room. A year ago, she had imagined her life after
college quite differently. Elle had been sure that at this time she would be
planning her wedding. Instead, she found herself in a law school dorm.

"What have I done?" she groaned. She sobbed, remembering Sarah

and her pale hand with the Rock - the family jewel that should've been
Elle's.

"Well, I'm here now," Elle, decided, at last. "Warner, Sarah, my

parents... just wait and see'!" She stood up to look for the telephone.
 CHAPTER EIGHT

After finally finding her pink Princess-style phone, Elle lay on her
bed and held Underdog tight. She decided to call Margot and Serena. She
knew they would be home at this time, as they never missed an episode of
their favorite TV series. Elle smiled as she thought of her friends.

Margot picked up right away. "It's Elle," she said to Serena, putting
the phone on speaker.

"Hi, you guys!" Elle was so happy to hear their friendly voices.

"Elle! How are you? We miss you already!" Serena said.

"I miss you guys too! You can't imagine..." Elle began, but Margot
interrupted her.

"How is shopping there?" Margot asked. "Is it as good as here?"

Elle started to say that she hadn't had a chance to go inside a store yet
when Serena asked her, "Elle! How's Warner? Was he surprised to see you?
Did you get the Rock yet?"

Elle didn't know where to begin, and it was just too depressing to
repeat the horrible events over the phone.

"Warner's fine, but no Rock yet," Elle lied. "I'm getting ready for
classes though, and you wouldn't believe how many books I have." She
sighed heavily.

"Oh, you poor thing!" the girls cried together. "We are so glad to be
out of school," Margot added. "Well, we're dying to hear more, but we're
late for a meeting."

"Meeting?" Elle asked.

 "Jesus is the Weigh!" the girls cried together.

"It's a new spiritual weight-loss program," Serena added.

"You have to come with us next time you are in L.A.," Margot said.

"Got to go! Much love and send Warner a kiss!" they cried together.

Elle hung up feeling worse than ever. Serena and Margot had found
Jesus, and Sarah had the Rock. She fell onto pink .ilk pillows and cried until
she had to get ready for her first law school event.

Elle tried to think of something positive as she walked across the

Stanford campus on her way to the Dean's Welcome. She not iced a few
tables with interesting signs. One table's sign read "Hum Your Bra." A
woman with a bandanna and frizzy brown hair was standing there, and Elle
was glad to see something familiar. She smiled as she remembered the bra-
burning party she'd given for Serena after she had got her new boobs.

As Elle came up to the table, the woman jumped up to yell, "Bra

burning is a political thing!"

Elle noticed that the woman was not wearing any bra. She slopped,
puzzled. "Are you talking to me?" Elle asked her.

"Free women from the male dominance and capitalistic body image!
Boycott the bra!" shouted the woman.

At that, Elle left the place quickly.

Students and parents filled the law school's auditorium waiting for the
dean's speech. Dean Haus was known around campus as "Great Haus," both
for his warm personality and sense of humor, as well as his superb ten-
bedroom house.

But Elle didn't think the Dean's Welcome was very welcoming.

Dean Haus began by listing the achievements of the 180 students

chosen from thousands of applicants for a place in Stanford's first-year
class, pointing out a few special ones.

Elle looked around, searching for Warner. He was seated with Sarah
two rows in front and to the left of her. Elle watched him to see if he would
look in her direction. She was so involved in this activity that the dean's
next introduction shocked her.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, what class would be complete

without a sorority president?" the dean asked, and the audience laughed.
Even Warner was laughing. "Ms. Elle Woods," the dean said and gestured
for her to stand up, "Who also happens to be our only homecoming queen!"

Elle reddened. Then she gathered her things and left quickly.

CHAPTER NINE

Elle's first day was a disaster. When she arrived at Criminal Law, the
first class on her schedule, Elle realized she had forgotten to bring her name
card. Each seat had a special desktop slot for these large cards, which
helped professors to humiliate you by name. Elle was the only unlabeled
person. She groaned as Sarah walked into the room and sat down behind a
card that read "Knottingham, S."

At least it doesn't say Huntington yet, Elle thought.

Sarah was chatting with Claire Caldwell-Boulaine. "Like a talking

Barbie," Elle overheard Sarah whisper. "Wait and see!" Claire said.

The balding boy next to Elle, obviously a Star I fan, labeled "Garney,
T.", was busily typing something on his laptop computer. Elle wondered
what he could possibly be taking notes of already. The boy paused to check
the time on his watch and looked around the room. He noticed Elle's pink
pad and a fuzzy pink pen. Shocked, he asked her, "Where is your laptop?"

Ignoring Garney, T., Elle glanced again at her schedule, hoping it

would show she was in the wrong room. Looks like I'll be seeing a lot of
Sarah, she thought. And Warner can walk in any minute.
 She looked at the door when it suddenly opened. To her surprise, it
was not Warner, but Sidney Ugman. Elle had known and avoided Sidney
Ugman for years. He was her next-door neighbor in Bel Air, and they had
gone to the same school. Sidney had followed her for years, like a bad
dream.

Sidney's father, Lee Ugman, was a major client of Eva's gallery.

Because of that, Sidney had a chance to meet with Elle more often at
dinners and gallery events. His parents often said that Sidney and Elle had a
"special relationship," which is why Lee Ugman bought so much from
Eva's gallery. "To keep it in the family," he explained. Of course, there was
no "special if relationship" because all of it was just Sidney's imagination.

Sydney recognized his Star Trek friend, the balding boy next to Elle,
and took a seat in the same row.

The class was what Elle had already known about law school:
everything was totally different from her previous life. Nerds like Sydney
and his balding friend Garney, T. grouped together to discuss new hi-tech
inventions. High society girls like Claire and Sarah met at coffeehouses to
do crossword puzzles in foreign languages. And only Elle had no one to
talk to. She realized that she, Elle Woods, was unpopular.
 CHAPTER TEN

Finally, Professor Kiki arrived. Catherine "Kiki" Haus was a Stanford

Law School professor and the wife of the dean. She was sturdy, wide-faced,
about forty years old. She often looked into her notes and spoke with an
"uh" between every few words.

"All law... uh... is biased. Um... against women," she lectured.

Was this Criminal Law or feminism? Elle thought they'd talk about
lawyers, guns, and money.

Kiki called only on women. In her introductory speech, she said that
women have to balance work and family life, while men are free from this
responsibility. Nobody had any idea what this had to do with criminal law,
but they were typing it on their laptops anyway.

"Uh, you, without the, uh, name card." Kiki pointed at Elle. "Uh,
what's your name?"

"Elle Woods."

"Uh, Ms., uh, Woods, uh, why did you, uh, come to law school?"

First question, first day, Elle thought.

Sarah turned around with interest. The room was quiet.

"To be a lawyer?" Elle guessed.

Kiki smirked. "And, uh, why do uh, want to be a, uh, lawyer?"

"So I can do my own divorce papers," Elle answered, smiling. She

glanced in the direction of Sarah and Claire to see if her words had any
effect on them.
 "I see," Kiki said and turned away to write on the board. "You all
want to be lawyers, but first you have to pass my class. And last year only
half of the students who sat in these seats did it..."

Elle was called on again in Torts class for a question on the reading,
which was actually assigned before the first class, but Elle hadn't gotten to
it yet, and didn't even have her books with her. With no name card and no
books, Elle was an easy target.

Torts was the class of basic personal injury law. A "tort" meant an
injury over which you could sue somebody. The class focused on everyday
talk-show things like car accidents or annoying phone calls.

Today's word, which Elle might have known if she had read the
assigned chapter, was "subrogation," a way for the bad guy to escape
paying damages by suing somebody else.

"You, without a laptop or a name card..." Professor Glenn, a white-

haired red-nosed man, pointed at Elle. "What do you think of subrogation?"

Elle wondered if this professor was into feminism too, like Kiki.
"Well," she answered, "it's a part of our society. Especially the subjugation
of women."

The class was laughing, and Elle couldn't understand what was so
funny.

Professor Glenn shook his head sadly. He was sober that day and
regretted it. "Thank you, Ms. Woods. Let's turn to somebody who's done the
reading," he said.

Elle now realized that the time she had spent reading Cosmopolitan's
Life after College issue had been a total waste of time. She understood she
might need a new source of advice like watching Oprah shows or Larry
King, or something.

Leaving the room after class, Elle gasped as Sidney's hand grabbed
her arm. "Hey Elle," he said. "Come on, this isn't Bel Air. You're not so
popular here, you know. People don't even like you."

Elle twisted her arm to get away from him but couldn't.

"I have so many friends here already, Elle. You should be nicer to
me... I might let you into my study group," Sidney continued.

Elle turned around and faced Sidney, finally freeing her arm. "Sidney,
don't make this worse than it already is for me," she said. "Just leave me
alone, will you?"

Sidney's laughter was her answer. Now he was the king and she was a
joke. Law school was his chance to make her pay, and he was going to
enjoy every minute of it.
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

Right after class Elle went to the beauty salon, she had found during
orientation week when she skipped the barbecue. It was in the Stanford
Shopping Center, and she found a nice French manicurist there who brought
her back to life. Elle had booked enough time for a pedicure as well as a
manicure; she really needed to talk to someone and would have stayed even
longer if she could.

Sighing deeply, Elle put her left hand under the air dryer. "Josette, it
got even worse."

Josette, a good-looking brunette, was working on Elle's right hand,

shaping her thumbnail. "Worse? Elle, what you told me before... it was
already horrible!"

Elle looked around the salon. "See, I have to go to class because I

don't have any friends, and I don't know who would lake notes for me if I
was absent," she explained.

"You should make a friend then," Josette advised.

"No, Josette, wait till you hear what these people are like! This one
guy from MIT, the Gummi Bear Man, sits behind me in Civil Procedure,
and he says he's doing some kind of scientific experiment... whatever.
Anyway, he is eating Gummi bears' all the time."

"Eeeewwww," Josette said. "And what about the other students?"

"Well, there's also a guy called Ben who for law school. He watches
Court TV when he's not reading the Legal or cases. He reads the Stanford
Law in the library when we have an hour break between classes. He carries
around piles of casebooks. He loves law school so much! He told me that
lie wanted to be a law professor since he was seven years old!"
 "I think I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a little girl," Josette
said. "Or a princess. And what about the girls in your school?"

Elle put both hands under the air dryer. "Josette, all of them arc boring
and badly dressed."

Josette laughed. "Why are you in law school, Elle?"

Elle thought about it and wondered if she should tell her. "I followed
my college boyfriend, Warner, here," Elle explained.

"He broke up with me before he came to Stanford, and I thought I'd

go to law school too, you know, to win him back. But now he's engaged to
this awful young woman named Sarah, and I'm stuck here!"

"Maybe you should see another man?" Josette suggested.

"I know, I'm pathetic."

Josette needed to get to another client. "Do you want the same time
next week?" she asked Elle.

"Yes, please, the same time next week," Elle, answered. She put on
her sandals and went to her career-counseling seminar.

The seminars were once a week after classes. Elle had signed up to
see what the future promised. She also hoped to see Warner there. The
career counselor told her to work on her resume, spending more time in the
library, studying cases.

Returning from the seminar, Elle found a note on her dorm room door.
It said that keeping a dog in the room was not allowed, so Elle would have
to find a new home for the dog, or find a new home for herself and the dog.

"Guess we've got to find a new home, Underdog," Elle sighed and
took her dog outside.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

Most classes in law school were a torture. Civil Procedure class was
all about cases in court. Anyone who could read and follow directions could
understand Civil Procedure. You only had to memorize things for the exam.

Elle was reading her magazine when Professor Erie called on Ben to
answer a question. He would be talking for the rest of the class. Elle was
glad she'd brought the new Vogue.

The young woman next to Elle offered her a piece of gum. "It's
apple," she whispered, "my favorite."

"Thanks," Elle said, smiling. The girl next to her was unlike most of
her classmates. She was pretty, with ivory skin and clear blue eyes. Plus she
was sort of blonde, or could be, with some highlights.

"It all sounds like abracadabra to me!" the young woman whispered
again with a smile.

Elle looked at her neighbor curiously.

"What the hell is quasi in rem jurisdiction?" she wrote a note on a

paper, which she passed to Elle.

"I don't know, sorry," Elle wrote back. "I skip this class a lot because
of Gummi bears."

"I know. Isn't that gross? By the way, my name is Eugenia," was the
response.

Elle laughed. This girl was all right.

"Miss Iliakis?" The note passing was interrupted. "Is Miss Iliakis here
today?"
 "Uh, yes." Eugenia raised her hand. "Back here."

"Miss Iliakis, here is the second problem. Let's see if we can help
them get into court."

Eugenia looked helplessly at Elle, who shrugged. Professor! Tie

waited a bit, then turned to Ben again, who happily demonstrated his
knowledge.

In the hall after the class, Eugenia asked Elle, "Do you want to grab
some lunch before Torts?"

"Sure," Elle answered, shocked that someone was actually speaking to

her and asking her to lunch.

The margaritas at lunch were perfect. Eugenia suggested they call it a

day. "I can get the notes from Claire or somebody."

"Cool," Elle said.

Over lunch, Eugenia told Elle she was from a Greek neighborhood in
Pittsburgh. Elle listened with interest.

"Growing up in Pittsburgh and then going to Yale, I thought I'd enter

the creative world, you know," Eugenia said.

Elle laughed. Eugenia was impressed when Elle told her that her
mother had an art gallery in L. A., and that she herself wanted to be a
jewelry designer, not a lawyer. Eugenia didn't even ask why Elle was at
Stanford Law.

Elle was thrilled. Had she actually found a friend in law school?
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was early October and Elle was still in her dorm room, studying,
when the phone rang. She decided to let her answering machine pick up.

She froze when Warner's voice began speaking.

"Elle, uh, I wanted to call you earlier to see how things were going for
you at law school. As you probably know, Sarah, my fiancee, is in your
class, and from what she tells me, you're still the same old Elle!"

Elle glared at the machine.

"Anyway, listen, Daniel's coming to visit, and I promised I'd show

him our videotape from Vegas. If you lend it to me, I can make a copy, or
just borrow it. Okay, honey?"

Has he just used the word "honey"? Elle thought.

There was a pause, then: "Thanks, Elle. Call me soon."

"Oh, God, the Vegas tape!" Elle fell down on the bed, laughing, and
stared at the ceiling.

Unknown to his family, and probably to Sarah, Warner's secret

ambition was to direct films. For three years he had taken Elle to film after
film, and later he began "directing documentaries" of their own adventures.

The videotape he asked about was a hilarious adventure weekend of

Elle, Warner, and Warner's old friend, Daniel, on the streets and in the
casinos of Las Vegas. The "documentary" ended with the Imperial Palace
suite, its grand bed, and a huge Jacuzzi.

Elle picked up the phone to call Warner back; then hung up. She
smiled. I'll make him wait. I'll make him wait until Daniel's in town, she
thought.
 Instead, Elle called her new landlord. The crazy old man didn't
recognize her at first, though she had met with him only two days before.

"Mr. Hopson, it's Elle Woods. I'm moving in... Today?"

It was the only nice place Elle could find that allowed pets m the
condominium.

"Right, right, sir. The jewelry designer. I'm bringing my i log,

remember? Yes, I know that I have to pay an extra deposit lot pets. We
discussed that before, Mr. Hopson. I wrote you a check. Yes I did.
Yesterday. I just wanted to tell you I'm coming this afternoon. Yes, Elle
Woods," Elle repeated, frustrated. "W-o-o-d-s. Thank you."
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Elle looked around her dorm room. She had packed most of her things
the other night, but still there were too many left. She sighed, exhausted,
and thought about the USC where sorority girls had fraternity boys who had
always helped them. Even Warner had done it.

What an idea! Elle smiled, picked up the phone and dialed his
number. She frowned when she heard Sarah's voice recorded on the
answering machine.

"Warner, honey," Elle said. "So nice of you to call. I have that
videotape of us... in Las Vegas... right here with me at school. I think it's
your best documentary!" She changed the subject. "The problem, Warner, is
that I'm moving, and all my things are packed in boxes; it's in a box around
here, I'm just not sure which one. I'll try to find it as soon as possible, but it
takes so long... doing this all by myself... Maybe you could give me a hand,
if you need the tape right away. Anyway, sweetie, give me a call!"

Elle opened her desk drawer and took out the videotape labeled
"Vegas." This is my ticket, she thought. She put the tape deep in one of the
boxes. Nobody will find this box for a while.

In an hour, Sarah's white Volvo parked next to Elle's Range Rover.

Elle looked suspiciously at the Volvo as she walked toward her car, carrying
a lamp in one hand and a mirror in the other. She recognized Sarah getting
out of the driver's seat.

"Came to help me move?" Elle asked.

Sarah crossed her arms, staring at Elle without speaking.

"I'd invite you in," Elle said, "but I'm busy moving."

"I heard your little message on Warner's machine. What videotape are
you talking about?"
 "Ah, how little you know about your fiance." Elle could see Sarah's
jealousy. She put the things in the Range Rover and checked her fingernails.
"Moving can be so bad for your manicure," Elle said and went back inside,
followed all the way to her room by a silent and furious Sarah.

"Be a good girl and grab a box on your way out, would you, Sarah?"
Elle smirked.

"No, I will not be... a good girl! And I will not carry your boxes.
Listen, I have just one thing to say to you, Elle Woods, and I'll make it as
clear as I can."

Elle sat on her bed and put Underdog onto her lap. "Ooooh,
Underdog, Sarah's here to say something." Underdog looked ul Sarah,
waiting.

Sarah reddened with anger. "It is obvious to anyone at Stanford Law

School that you are having some trouble here."

Elle gasped mockingly.

"Basically, everyone is laughing at you at this school. We think that

you won't make it through the finals. You have no friends and absolutely no
chance of success as a law student. So I came here to tell you one thing:
forget it and leave Warner alone!" Sarah turned to walk away.

"Don't worry, Sarah. I'm not interested in Warner at all," Elle lied.

Sarah turned around. "You're not?"

"No, I'm not. Not at all." Elle smiled and stood up from the bed with
Underdog in her arms. Then she slammed the door in Sarah's face.
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Warner hadn't called back. Elle checked her messages during her
Criminal Law class. The professor had turned to the board, drawing another
map to illustrate federal court jurisdiction.

"Miss Caldwell-Boulaine," Professor Erie said. Elle looked up from

her copy of Vanity Fair. She had read the cases for today's class, but found
them so boring that she hoped that Claire, too, might be confused.

"The sued corporation does business in Arizona, which is where the

plaintiff bought his car. But the car exploded in California, injuring only
California residents. Since it is a tort, how would they get into federal
court?"

"On diversity jurisdiction, Professor Erie," Claire said with

confidence, which Elle found annoying.

"Correct." The professor smiled, turning again to the board. "In which
state would the defendant get a subpoena?"

Before Claire could answer, Fran, the feminist with a unibrow, frizzy
hair, and unshaved legs, interrupted. "Professor," she said, waving, "I have
an objection."

"An objection?" Professor Erie looked up. "Okay. Proceed."

"It's just that... Could you stop using that word?"

"What word, Miss Anthony?"

"Mizzz," Fran corrected. "The word sub I don't like the way it
sounds."

Some boys laughed.

 "See?" Fran shrieked. "That's exactly the male dominance that women
have to fight!"

Professor Erie raised his voice and finally asked a question that Elle
liked: "When does this nonsense stop? Class, enough!"

Elle was hurrying out of class when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Warner stood before her.

"Elle, wait a minute! I tried to call you back last night, but I got your
machine."

Elle looked doubtfully at him. He hadn't left a message. "I was home
most of the night," she said, "packing."

"Okay, I didn't leave a message," he said.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot." Elle added. "I drove a couple of boxes to my

new condo," she laughed. "It's cool. You should come see it."

"I'd like to," Warner said. "Have you moved your stuff in yet?"

She had moved almost all of the boxes already.

"No, no, I've got a lot left to move," Elle lied. "I couldn't lift the heavy
boxes by myself, and I'd love some help, Warner. If you can get away," she
whispered, checking behind her if Sarah was nearby. She could bring some
boxes back to the dorm this afternoon, while everyone was in class, she
thought quickly. That way he'd have a lot to carry.

They started walking toward the front door of the building when
Warner paused and smiled. "Great. I'd be happy to help you," he said.

Elle shrugged and walked on. He followed her outside. "Listen, I'd
love to get away, Elle," he said quietly, "but not for lunch." Elle laughed.

He glanced back over his shoulder to the law school. "I've got plans.
Sarah, you know."
 Elle smiled and put on her sunglasses. "I didn't mean for lunch,
Warner, sweetie. I simply need some help. Call me when you can come
tonight." She kissed Warner on the cheek, then turned around and walked
away.
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Thanks for taking me, Josette." Elle looked around the empty salon.
"I know it's late. I don't need a full manicure, just fix these." She showed
two broken nails on her right hand.

"No problem, no problem. But we must do the whole hand anyway,"

Josette said, looking closely at Elle's nails.

"I know, they're a mess," Elle said. "I had to move over twenty boxes
today. This afternoon. That's why I couldn't get here until so late."

"Again?" Josette asked. "Just a few days ago... you were almost done
with moving." Elle nodded but wasn't sure how to explain it. "So you're
moving again?"

Elle blushed. "Josette," she began. "Remember that guy, my old

boyfriend, whom I followed to this law school?"

"Yes, his name was Warner. Right?"

"Right." Elle smiled.

"Warner, with the fiancee?"

"Sarah Knottingham." The smile disappeared from Elle's face.

"So, is this for Sarah... or for Warner?"

"Pardon?" Elle looked puzzled.

"Why do we make your nails beautiful? For him? Or to show her,

maybe?"

How smart and how French, Elle thought. "No, it's not to show Sarah.
But I am seeing Warner tonight. He's coming to help me move."
 "Move!" Josette rolled her eyes. "You will break them all again!"

"I don't think so. This time I'll have some help. See, Josette, I called
Warner. I wanted to see him, so I told him I was moving and needed his
help. Sort of."

"You'll never get him back with nails like that!" Josette pointed to
Elle's broken nails. "Don't worry. I will fix them."

"Thanks, Josette." Elle blushed. "You won't believe this. It was the
most idiotic thing I've ever done..."

"Yes, what was it? What did you do?"

Elle smiled. "Okay, it's embarrassing. Today I skipped my afternoon

classes and moved some boxes and furniture out of my new condo and back
into my dorm room. It took a few hours. Tonight I have to move it back to
the condo again, but now Warner will help me!"

Josette shook with laughter. "You must be very much in love," she
said.

Yes, she was in love. "You're right!" Elle said. "Josette, I'm a mess'.
I'm a lovesick fool!"
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Elle sat down on the couch in her new condo, surrounded by dozens
of boxes.

"Warner, my arms and legs hurt! I'm exhausted. Please, let's call it a
day." She showed her hand to let Warner see the damage. "Look, I've
already broken a fingernail."

Warner held Elle's hand. "Elle, this place looks like the basement of a
museum! I can't believe all these things used to fit into your dorm room. I
don't think we'll be able to find that videotape tonight."

"No." Elle smiled. "Not tonight. And Warner, I don't want to part with
that videotape... Las Vegas... That Imperial Palace... It was our palace. I'll
always love it, all of it." She smiled. He was still her prince.

To Elle's surprise, Warner bent down and gave her a long kiss. She
looked into his eyes and suddenly giggled. Covering her mouth with her
hands, Elle hit Warner's face by accident.

"I'm sorry," she gasped.

Warner, trying not to show his anger and embarrassment, went to the
door. Elle had never laughed at him before. "I should've left when we
finished moving. Just leave the videotape in my mailbox at school, okay?
Sarah would kill me if she knew I was here," he said.

"What was I thinking, Warner? You don't want to be here, you've got
a life, practically a wife! All you want from me is that tape. Well, you don't
have to kiss me for it," Elle cried.

"Elle," Warner protested, walking back to her. "It's not like that at all.
I'm not here just for the tape. I wanted to see you." She stared at him
suspiciously.
 "Elle," Warner explained, holding her shoulders now, "I have a lot to
lose. Sarah's very sensitive about this. She doesn't even want to hear about
you."

Elle shook her head. "Please just go, Warner," she said. She crossed
her arms and stared at the door, humiliated by her tears and the fact that she
thought about him every day.

Elle started sobbing when Warner had finally left. What a disaster, she
thought. Underdog jumped up on the couch. "Hey, Underdog," Elle said,
stroking his head. "I should better start getting serious about this law stuff. I
have no chances of getting married anyway." She had followed Warner to
law school, she hated law school, law school hated her, and now Warner
had his fiancee.

Her boxes were packed, and she thought about sending them back to
L.A., saving herself while she could. She didn't know what she wanted
anymore. Yes, she still loved Warner, but she wanted him to love her and
only her. If she couldn't take him away from Sarah, she'd have to think of
something else.

Elle imagined how happy Sarah and her friends would be to see her
leave the law school. The Barbie doll who failed. They would all love to see
her fail...

But wouldn't it kill them to see her graduate?

 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The next day after classes, Elle went to check her law school mailbox
and throw away all of the junk flyers, which she usually did once a week.
There was never anything important in there, but today her mailbox was
stuffed with a huge stack of papers tied with a red ribbon. A small envelope
with the word "Elle" written on it lay on top of the papers.

She opened the envelope and took out a page with a hand-written
poem on it. She gasped.

I'm staring at your picture, but please do not be nervous.

I'm surely not a weirdo, I plan to do you service.

I am your Secret Angel, I want to make you smile,

And give you presents worthy of your beauty and your style.

What better way to win your heart than with a simple rhyme?

What better way to keep you here than with a class outline?

Don't leave law school, Elle. You are one of a kind'.

Your Secret Angel

Elle was stunned by the note. She untied the stack of papers and read
the typed words on the top page. "Criminal Law, Haus, Fall Semester."
Then there was a second title page: "Torts, Glenn, Fall Semester."
 Someone had given her class outlines, the key to law school success!
Elle smiled happily, putting the papers into her Prada bag with confidence.
She wondered who could've sent her such a gift.

"Well, Sarah," Elle said quietly. "You haven't beaten me yet."

 CHAPTER NINETEEN

"I don't know if I can take it anymore," Elle said to Josette who was
massaging her palm. "I'm tired from writing so much. Anyway, let's use
black. It's Halloween. I've got a costume party tonight." She pointed to a
bottle with black nail polish.

"Is it a school party?"

"Well, maybe. There's a law school costume party I was thinking

about going to." Warner might be there, and Elle wanted to show him she
was beautifully cool, and over him.

"You're sure you want the black?" Josette asked. "Are you dressing up
like a witch?"

"No, I'll leave that to Sarah," Elle laughed.

Josette smiled. "You're the boss."

In an hour, Elle was back at school.

"Another day," Eugenia sighed, listening to the noise from the Gummi
Bear Man.

Professor Glenn arrived fifteen minutes late. Elle smelled scotch as

the professor walked to the front of the room.

"Liquid lunch," Eugenia whispered, nodding at Glenn, as he looked

through his lecture notes.

"If I taught Torts, I'd drink too," Elle said.

"Sorry I'm late, class." Professor Glenn stood staring in front of him.
Suddenly he announced the class topic."
 That's the case for today, class." He laughed, shaking his head. "This
one is a beauty. The kind of tort you just won't see every day, I tell you."

Glenn looked around the room for a student to call on. "You," he
pointed at Ben. "Tell me what Judge Cardozo says in this case."

"Cardozo?" Ben stared at the professor. "Don't you want me to

describe the facts first?" Professor's question was not in the law school
order. Facts were always supposed to come first.

"What the hell? You read it, didn't you? Some idiot had a package
with explosives in it, and the train stopped, and this lady bumped into
somebody, and ten other things happened, and then all the minks Miss
Palsgraf had on her mink farm went crazy and ate their young," Glenn said.

Ben couldn't believe it. "The mink farm was in the Madsen case,
Professor," he corrected.

"Whatever!" Professor Glenn said. "The important thing is what

Cardozo had. What did the judge say in this case? How about you?" He
pointed to Jeremy.

"Cardozo said Ms. Palsgraf was out of the zone of danger. He said the
railroad would've covered her damages if she was in the zone of danger."

"Like the passengers," Halley added. "And passersby or people at the

station."

"Right," Professor Glenn said. "So we understand Palsgraf, then. Any

questions? I've got an appointment." The professor collected his papers and
went out the door.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

Elle parked her Range Rover on the quiet street and checked her
appearance in the mirror. Scary. She used heavy black eyeliner for her eyes
and cheap lipstick for a shocking black smile. She looked devilish.

She also checked the directions she had written on the back of a class
syllabus. Warner had called her early that morning while she was out
walking Underdog, leaving a message on her machine. "Elle, come to the
party tonight," he had said. "I'll get away if I can. I know you hate the law
school stuff, but I'd love to see you there."

She decided to go to the party, but she wasn't sure what to say to him.

Confidently, Elle and Underdog walked across the street. Elle wore
high boots, fishnets and a tight miniskirt. Although she hadn't written down
the address, she knew the party was in the third house from the corner,
which was strangely quiet. The party was probably in the basement.
Anyway, she didn't expect a wild crowd.

After she rang the doorbell a second time, the door opened. A gray-
haired man holding a TV Guide and a remote control asked her, "Can I help
you?"

Elle froze. Then, looking down at her costume, she got scared that he
would call the police.

"Oh my God!" Elle said, horrified. "This must be... the wrong house."
She showed him her directions. "I, uh... I must have gotten the party address
wrong. I'm looking for some... for some law students?"

The man smiled at Elle. "I like your outfit," he said. "Maybe I can be
your party?"

Elle blushed. "Oh no... it's not... it's not what you think. It's
Halloween!" She backed up with Underdog under her arm and hurried
towards her car.

After this humiliation, Elle was actually happy to get to the party. The
house was on the next street, and the music heard from the outside told her
that she had found the right house.

I n the hall she met Sidney who was already drunk. As always, Sidney
tried to grab Elle's wrist, but failed. "You look sooooo hot," he said, staring
at Elle. "You drive me bananas."

"Oh, come on, Sidney," Elle said, annoyed. "I can't believe you didn't
dress as one of your favorite Star Trek... figures."

Sidney's eyes lit up. "Well I am. I'm Captain Kirk, you know."

"Of course." Elle wouldn't recognize Captain Kirk anyway. She

started walking towards the room, feeling out of place. She looked around
the room for Warner.

A Lawrence Hesterton, also known as Literary Larry, normally looked

like a soft teddy bear with wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes behind
his round spectacles, but tonight he was dressed as Darth Vader. Two other
Star Trek figures stared at Elle.

Fran, dressed as a hippie, dropped her drink. "Look who's here," she
hissed, as usual talking about Elle, but not to her. Claire, dressed as Barbie,
also stared with amazement at Elle's costume.

Elle saw Michael, dressed as Andy Warhol, at the punch bowl. He

looked through his spectacles at Elle's outfit and silently offered her a drink.
Elle took the cup gratefully. Maybe some people around here still have a
little imagination, she thought.

Dr. Dan, a cardiac surgeon in the past, was dressed as the King of
Hearts. He eyed Elle through his contact lenses. "Good thing there's a
cardiac surgeon here, Elle," he joked. "Your outfit might give someone a
heart attack."
 Ben, greeting Elle with a surprised stare, was dressed in suit and tie.

"Why aren't you dressed up?" she asked.

Ben had been waiting for the question. "I am," he laughed. "I'm a law
suit." He laughed again.

Elle looked at the unromantic and boring party with despair. Of

course, Warner's not here, she thought. I don't even see Sarah. They
probably have a date. And here lam, stuck with the starship Enterprise.

As Elle turned to leave, she noticed Warner, in a USC football

uniform, number 32, as he headed for the punch bowl. Excited, she rushed
to him. "Warner!" she called.

"Jesus, Elle," Warner gasped, looking at her costume several times.

"Well," she shrugged, "You don't watch my wardrobe anymore."

"You look really hot," he whispered and pulled her away from the
crowd to the back patio. "Did you get my message?" Warner asked when
they were alone.

Elle nodded. "And where's your other half?"

"Home."

Elle smiled like a child. "Home?" She paused. "Post-party at my

condo?" she offered, thinking that this time Warner wouldn't leave her
apartment until the morning.

"There's a little problem, Elle. Sarah's feeling kind of sick. She has a
cold, and..."

That was so unlike Warner. Maybe it really was over.

"But you came here anyway?" she asked, hopefully.

 "Yeah. I needed some new faces. See, Sarah doesn't think I need to go
out anymore. Since we're getting married and all." He paused. "But I
wanted to see you tonight."

Elle glanced back at the party and saw Claire glaring at them. "We
probably shouldn't stay here together much longer."

"You're right."

"Anyway, I need to go, Warner. I've got another party in the city," she
lied. "Unless you're coming with me. It's your choice."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he whispered quickly.

 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Warner kept his word. When he stepped inside Elle's apartment, she
covered him with kisses. Underdog tried to avoid the clothes that fell all the
way from the door to the couch. Suddenly, Warner paused, sighed deeply,
and stared into Elle's eyes. "Elle," he murmured. "Elle, what am I doing
with Sarah?"

Annoyed, Elle pushed his hands away. "I don't know, Warner. You tell
me. What does she want from you?"

"She has what she wants from me."

"What do you mean?"

"A ring."

The Rock, of course, Elle thought.

"Almost," Warner added. "She has almost everything she wants. I

guess she wants my name too."

Huntington. Elle Huntington. How many times had she whispered it

to herself and even practiced her new signature? She looked at Warner,
feeling jealous. "Well? Do you love her?"

"Yes, I love Sarah," he answered mechanically. Elle was doubtful

about it. After all, Warner was here now, with her. "Sarah loves me, Elle.
We'll be happy. Her father wants me in his firm, of course, or I could work
for my father's firm. Until I run for president. Sarah supports me. I don't
know, Elle, I'm just so confused. I really want to direct... my documentaries,
you know. She'd never understand that." Warner stroked Elle's soft hair.

"Let me see, Warner." She sat up, pulling a blanket around her
shoulders and moving away from him across the couch. "You can have it
all, but this kind of life means nothing to you?"
 "Elle, I knew you would understand," Warner said to her. "You're the
only one who really understands me. I..."

Only minutes before, she had been filled with joy. Now, Elle could
hardly control her anger.

"Warner, I do understand!" she said emotionally. "God, I do! The jobs,

the loving wife, the political career... it's all ready, waiting for you, but you
deserve more, don't you? Money, prestige... that's not enough. Oh no. You
should also be a director, make movies. As long as you can keep your
reputation and stay in Grandma's will."

Warner shook his head. "Okay, okay, I see your point."

"Well, Warner," she looked at him, "until you are honest with
yourself, you won't be able to love anyone. I think you should leave."

"Can I kiss you before I leave, Elle?"

"No," Elle answered sadly.

After Warner had left, Elle went to bed, but she didn't sleep very well.
The next morning she drove to school quite early. For the first time since
September Elle couldn't wait to get to class.

Checking her mailbox, Elle found a second package from her Secret
Angel. Too bad he didn't introduce himself yet, she thought. She read
another small poem from her secret helper and opened the outline:
"Professional Responsibility, Pfisak, Fall Semester."

In the bathroom, where Elle went to check her lipstick between

classes, she was surprised to see a crowd. Typically, while there were lines
for the Xerox machine and the laser printers, the bathroom mirror was
always free of law students.

Claire was struggling with her hair and talking to some person in the
bathroom stall. "Today is yearbook picture day.
 I can't believe I forgot! This is the picture that follows you forever she
said. Not happy with her looks, Claire finally announced that she "simply
was not ready." She was going to ask if she could go to the studio later and
be photographed there.

"Why don't you just send them your portfolio?" Elle asked.

"Portfolio?"

"Everybody in California has a portfolio, Claire," Elle explained. "Do

they want a full body or only a head?"

Claire rolled her eyes. This L.A. bimbo was not going to tell her what
to do.
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Law school left Elle without any social life, so she decided to get out
more at night and read the Angel's outlines during the day.

She picked up the phone to call Margot. With finals coming soon, her
classmates had become stressed out. She had studied the outlines from her
Secret Angel, but still she was nervous too. She needed a break, and she
needed to talk to someone outside the law world.

Elle called Margot, but before she could even say hello Margot gave
her good news. "Wedding bells are ringing, Elle!" she cried. "I'll be a bride
by next year! Snuff and I are getting married!"

"Margot, that's totally awesome!" Elle tried to hide the envy that she
felt. "I couldn't be happier for you."

"Oh God!" Margot exclaimed. "I want a real dress and everything.
And one for you too, beautiful. Of course I ask you to be my maiden of
honor."

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, Elle thought. It was still a
compliment. "Thanks, Margot," she sighed. "I'm honored. Really."

As if reading her mind, Margot softened. "I never thought I'd get
married before you, Elle. Not in a million years."

Elle shrugged. "It's okay, silly."

"Can you come home this weekend? I know it's a short notice, but I
want you and Serena to get fitted for dresses. Plus I haven't seen you since
you left for law school."

"Sure," Elle said, though she knew she should probably be studying.

She began to pack.

 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Elle took a five-hour drive to L.A., all the way listening to the law
lectures on MP3 in her car. When she pulled into the driveway of her
parents' house, she greeted them and then called Serena and Margot. They
arrived as she was unpacking the books she had brought home with her.
They hugged their pale and tired friend.

"We haven't seen you since you left for law school," Margot said.
"And look! You have black rings under your eyes."

Serena nodded. "Elle, what are you doing to yourself?"

"Try studying for sixteen hours every day," Elle smirked.

"I don't believe you brought all those books with you," Serena said,
looking at Elle's bedroom.

"Well, leave them here," Margot said. "We're going shopping."

Elle agreed and the three girls got into Margot's tiny car parked
outside.

At the store, Margot showed Elle a row of black dresses.

"Black?" Elle looked at Margot with confusion.

"It's Zen, silly, black and white... you know, yin and yang!" Margot
exclaimed. "See, you and Serena, and all of my bridesmaids... you're going
to wear black dresses which look perfect with red lips. And guitars."

"Guitars?" Elle asked from behind the curtain of the dressing room.

"Yeah, Snuff's idea. We'll just borrow some guitars," Margot added.
 She and Serena stared at Elle as she came out of the dressing room.
"Oh my God!" the girls shrieked, covering their faces with their hands.

Elle glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "What? Is this too tight?"

Margot started to cry. "Elle, you just can't look like that at my
wedding. Oh, no, forget it."

"Look like what?" Elle asked her horrified friends.

"Your skin!" Serena answered sadly. "You look like a dying plant."

"Elle, your skin has become so... so terrible," Margot said, sobbing.

"Totally," Serena agreed. "It's disgusting." She put an arm around

Margot. "Don't worry, we won't let her go like that. She can use fake bake
or something."

Margot often called Elle at school to remind her of appointments in

the tanning room. In December, Margot came to visit her at Stanford. Elle
had been studying hard and really hadn't done anything else since she last
saw her friends in L.A.

"So what's going on in LA-LA land?" Elle asked, sitting with Margot
on the couch.

"Well, haven't you heard that a major crime happened right next to my
condo? Chutney Vandermark's father is dead, and her stepmother did it!"

"Who?" Elle hadn't read the newspapers or even People for a long
time, but the name sounded familiar.

"God, Elle, it's all over the media." Margot turned on the TV set and
changed the channels until she found what she was looking for.

"Heyworth Vandermark, seventy-four-year-old tycoon. His life was

taken not by his heart condition, but by a coldblooded assassin. Twenty-
three-year-old Brooke Vandermark, sixth wife of the killed multimillionaire,
is accused of the murder. An exclusive eyewitness interview with Heyworth
Vandermark's only daughter, Chutney Vandermark, will be on this week's
program."

"Oh, Margot, turn that trash off," Elle complained. "I can't fill my
head with this stuff before exams."

"Well, while your head is full of that stuff, Malibu and the rest of
Southern California is filling up with the Vandermark murder," Margot said.
"It even appeared in Vogue." Margot turned the TV off. "Chutney went to
USC, Elle."

"Wait, I remember some Chutney. Wasn't she a Theta?"

"Delta Gamma!" Margot said. "But listen to this, her stepmother, the
murderer... she was a Theta!"

Elle giggled.

"And did you know that the stepmother, Brooke, is a year younger
than Chutney? Twenty-three!"

"That's so awful," Elle, gasped.

"I know. I would just die if my father married somebody younger than
me."

Elle shook her head. "No, I mean, it's awful that her father was
killed."

Margot smirked. "If you think that's bad, I heard he left all his money
to his wife."
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Before she left, Margot told Elle about a "nice plastic surgeon" named
Austin. Serena had met him in Aspen, and wanted to get him together with
Elle. "Serena says he's gorgeous," Margot promised. "Can we give him your
number? You really should get out more."

Elle shrugged, a bit embarrassed. Things weren't going well with

Warner. "But I haven't been on a date for ages. I'm totally out of practice."

"Oh, no problem," Margot said, turning to leave. "He'll call you soon.
He's dying to meet you."

Elle decided to give Austin a chance. He called before the end of the
week, and they agreed to meet for drinks.

Elle wasn't sure at first how she was going to recognize Austin at the
restaurant. But when she arrived, she immediately saw a "status doc" sitting
at the bar. He wore a Prada suit and a big watch around his hairy wrist. His
Porsche keys were lying next to his cell phone. His complexion was tanned,
and he used a lot of hair gel. Serena just loved men like him.

"Austin," Elle said and offered her hand. He nodded, looking

surprised. "Elle?"

She nodded too. The doctor looked at her little black dress and the
figure that filled it. "Nice to meet you, Elle."

Right away Elle announced she could only stay for drinks. She was
actually glad that she had a twenty-page paper due the next day. She
explained this to Austin, saying she'd have to stay up late. He nodded,
understanding a busy schedule.

When they were seated at a table, Elle went to "powder her nose." In
the ladies' room she quickly refreshed her makeup, but the nail on her finger
accidentally cut the tip of her nose which started bleeding.
 "Ow." Elle used a paper towel and pressed it against the cut until the
bleeding stopped. She checked her appearance in the mirror and hurried
nervously back to the table. She had been in the bathroom for about ten
minutes, and Austin had finished his drink. He looked at her with curiosity,
but started talking easily when she asked him about himself.

Elle learned that Austin, though never married, was very popular with
women.

At some point Elle touched her face and noticed a small red spot on
her finger. Austin noticed it too. "Oh no," she said, and looked at Austin.
"Excuse me." She hurried back to the "powder" room.

When Elle returned to the table, she saw that Austin was already
standing. He said he had an appointment that night. "I know you'll be up
late tonight too," he explained.

When they were leaving the restaurant, he asked her, "Elle, are you
seeing anyone right now?"

Elle blushed, but she knew she didn't want to see Austin again. "Yes,
Austin, I'm seeing a few people," she lied.

He looked puzzled but interested. "Why do you see more than one
therapist at a time?" he asked.

"Oh," she said, realizing that Austin had asked about medical
specialists because her bleeding nose looked suspicious. She shrugged. "I'm
more complicated than I look."
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

One rule Elle was learning fast was this: blondes do not have fun in
law school.

In Professional Responsibility Professor Pfisak had asked the students

to write a two-page essay in which they had to invent a legal organization.

Elle handed in her essay with her vision of the Blonde Legal Defense
Fund (BLDF). Its mission would be to fight with anti-blonde
discrimination. At the same time, it would be a law firm for blondes, run by
blondes. The firm's interior design would feature great role models in
blonde history such as Marilyn Monroe, but not Madonna, since she is not a
true blonde.

In her essay, Elle tried to explain the difference between a true blonde
and a natural blonde. True blondes - natural or not - could be identified by
their inner confidence. The BLDF would take cases of brunette
discrimination too, but only those who were blonde at heart. For example,
Madonna wasn't blonde at heart because no true blonde would ever go back
to another hair color.

Elle said that, as a result of anti-blonde discrimination, it would be

difficult to find blondes who were intellectual role models - especially male
blonde intellectuals. But she could invite Robert Redford, for example.

When Professor Pfisak began reading Elle's essay to the class, his
voice was sarcastic, and he paused several times to shake his head in
disbelief. Elle blushed as her classmates laughed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Stanford scheduled its exams after the winter vacation, stealing

Christmas and New Year. Elle parked the Range Rover in the driveway of
her Bel Air home, then carried her heavy casebooks and study guides' to the
door.

"Well, it's good to be back," she said.

Elle's mother, Eva, was a holiday fan. She always spoiled Elle during
the Christmas season. As soon as Elle entered the house, she was greeted by
a huge twenty-five-foot fir tree. Her father Wyatt stood smiling at Elle
beside his wife, and both of them looked like dwarfs.

"Look, look, darling," Eva cried.

Elle gasped. She hugged her giggling mother and gazed at the unique
tree decorations. Each was a reproduction of a famous painting like the
Birth of Venus, the American Gothic, or the Mona Lisa, featuring Elle's face
here and there.

"Oh my God! Mother, you are the craziest Santa in California!" Elle
exclaimed.
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"Elle!" Eugenia pressed her face against Elle's door and rang the bell
a third time. She heard the sound of a hair dryer in the bathroom. Well, at
least she's up, she thought. The package that she was holding was making
her arm tired. The hair dryer stopped for a minute, and Eugenia rang the
doorbell again. Elle opened the front door in her pink bathrobe. "Genie?"

"Hey, Elle, I came to drive you to your first exam."

"Oh, great, thanks. I'm almost ready, and I'm totally nervous."

Eugenia gave Elle the package. "The doorman asked me to bring this
to you. It's from Warner."

"That's so sweet!" Elle exclaimed. "It's probably a present. I should

have sent him something too."

She opened the box. There was a note inside. Elle read it aloud to
Eugenia.

Dear Elle,

I guess I should have sent these to you a while ago. Sarah told me to
get rid of them. They remind her of you, and it's not right for me to keep
them anymore. How many married men keep pictures of their ex-
girlfriends? I can remember you without pictures anyway, and I see you at
school! Good luck on your exams.

Love, Warner

"Pictures?" Eugenia asked slowly.

 Elle nodded, stunned. She took the photographs out of the box one by
one.

"What a cretin," Eugenia said in a low voice.

"Why did he have to send them back? I've got copies of all these,"
Elle said as she stared at the images of herself and Warner. "Why now?
How could he do this to me? Oh, God, Eugenia, I can't go to the exam
today. I just can't do it." Eugenia shook her head angrily. "Warner? I don't
think it's him. I think it's Sarah who sent these."

"What do you mean - Sarah?" Elle asked. She hadn't even thought of
it. "Wait a minute. Of course, it must be Sarah! But still, Warner wrote the
letter, didn't he?"

"Elle, don't you get it?" Eugenia said. "It's not a coincidence that you
got these pictures now. Sarah 'told' him, didn't she? She doesn't want you to
make it. You've been working so hard for these exams, and you're ready. I
know you are. She's just trying to get you out of law school. Don't let her
win."

Elle stared at the floor. "I don't care if Sarah made him do it or not. I
came here for Warner, Eugenia. He's who I've worked all semester for!
Nobody else. I only wanted to show him that I could finish..." What good
was all this studying? Night after night spent reading the outlines... She
started sobbing. "I made a terrible mistake coming here. What difference
will passing an exam make? Warner doesn't care, and he never will. It won't
change anything. I'll never be what he wants. I'll never be a Knottingham.
And I'll never be a Huntington!"

"Finish because you can, Elle," Eugenia said firmly. "You know this
stuff better than I do. Come on, Elle, don't quit now!"

Elle stopped sobbing and smiled a little.

Eugenia smiled too. "I'll drive. You can read the outline in the car
again. It will kill Sarah if her little plan doesn't work. Get ready. This is
your day."
 The first exam, Contracts, began at 9:00 A.M. Elle finished the four-
hour test an hour early. One down', she thought with relief.

The only exam that Elle didn't finish an hour early was Civil
Procedure.
 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The week after finals the law school scheduled interviews for spring
semester internships and summer jobs. Elle noticed with interest that
Christopher Miles, a Stanford graduate and well-known defense attorney in
San Francisco, was interviewing first-year students for research assistance
on the Vandermark case. The January issue of Architectural Digest had
named his firm, Miles and Slocum, among the top ten law firms in the
country for its office design. Elle got interested in getting the job, and when
she saw Warner's name among the students on the interview list, she
decided to get that internship. She even read the interview advice in Cosmo.

When he saw Elle's name on the interview list, Sidney added his
name too and came up to her. "Elle, why don't you just get married and go
play tennis at the club like you are supposed to?" he asked, mockingly.

Not bothered by Sidney's comment, Elle walked right past him.

"Such luck," Elle said to her mother on the phone that evening. The
"Murder in Malibu!" Margot and Serena would go crazy if they heard that
Elle might be working on the hottest case in L.A. They might even forgive
her for going to law school.

Serena had called and invited Elle to join her in Aspen during the
week of Elle's interview, and couldn't believe it when Elle said no. "Come
on, Elle, what's wrong with you? Do you hear what I'm saying? Everybody
is here this week. They're asking about you."

"Serena, it's not just an interview," Elle protested. "Listen, you heard
about the Vandermark murder, right?"

"Yeah, of course," Serena said. "Everybody's talking about Brooke

'the Blonde Killer' Vandermark. Her picture has been in every paper. You
know she was a Theta?"
 "Right," Elle said. "Well, this defense lawyer who's interviewing law
students to help him do research or get him coffee took Brooke's case. And
he's here, see? I have a chance at an internship on the 'Murder in Malibu'!
Isn't that exciting? Plus I want to help Brooke Vandermark."

"You want to help a Theta?" Serena gasped.

"Who cares', Serena? It's just a great opportunity. Besides, Warner's

interviewing too, and I have to look perfect."
 CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

After a visit to Josette, Elle went to meet Christopher Miles. "Please

come in," the defense attorney said to her, grinning, as he sat behind his
table and watched Elle's legs below her narrow pink skirt. He had his own
reasons for calling her in. "I imagined you less... sophisticated," he smiled.
"I've seen a lot of resumes, but never a pink one."

"Stands out?" Elle asked.

He nodded. "Let's see. Under Honors and Awards you have here:
Homecoming Queen; Greek Goddess; President of Delta Gamma sorority,
USC; Chair of Intersorority Council, USC; Model for Perfect Tan skin
products, Los Angeles." The lawyer paused. "I've never seen anything like
this resume before. I had to meet you, Elle."

Elle shrugged. "Well, here I am then. Let's talk about the job you're
going to offer me."

"Of course," he said, mockingly. "What do you know about this

project?"

"I'm interested in criminal defense work," Elle lied. "You're defending

a woman who is suspected of killing her husband. That's all I know. What
else can you tell me?" she asked, sitting back in her chair.

"Brooke Vandermark," he began after a long pause, "twenty-three,

sixth wife of Heyworth Vandermark, seventy-four. Multimillionaire. His
health was poor: heart problems. He was shot at very close range. Brooke
had just married him. His will left everything to his wife. Brooke's been
charged with the murder. There's not much of evidence and no murder
weapon."

"What happened to the gun?"

 The lawyer shrugged. "The police never found it. But an eyewitness
saw Brooke at the scene."

"Eyewitness?"

Christopher nodded. "Heyworth's daughter, his only child, walked in

right after it. She was in the house... and when she came downstairs, she
saw Brooke covered with her father's blood, bent over his body, trying to
move it. Brooke was surprised to see her."

"What happened then?"

"The daughter says Brooke asked her something, but she ran into the
kitchen to call the police. Brooke ran after her, begging her to stop. When
the police arrived, Brooke had fainted in the kitchen. The gun was not on
the scene, and the police didn't find it. Brooke's fingerprints were all over
Heyworth's body, his blood was all over her, and she has no alibi." After a
moment, the lawyer shook his head. "Well, no strong alibi, anyway."

"What's her alibi?" '

"She's a difficult one, this Brooke. When I interviewed her, she told
me she was at a group meeting. A support group for shopping addicts.
Shopper Stoppers Anonymous."

"How sad!" Elle said.

"See, according to Brooke, there were about fifteen other people who
spent all afternoon with her. However, she cannot name them because the
group is anonymous. So her 'anonymous' alibi is more like no alibi at all."

"Well, if I ever went to a 'Shopper Stoppers' meeting, I wouldn't want

the world to know."

Christopher Miles tapped his pen. "Well, the group members have
nothing to fear. Brooke says the same thing. But there are a lot of important
people who have this... problem. She won't say a word about who was at
this meeting."
 "Of course not," Elle said.

"But we have another problem to solve. That's what I'm working on

right now, and that's what I need my team to help me with."

"What is it?" Elle asked. Brooke's situation sounded bad enough with
the murder charge.

"Heyworth's daughter has already questioned her father's will. Under

California law, a will beneficiary is not getting anything if he or she caused
the death of the donor."

"So if Brooke killed him, she'll get nothing?"

"Right," he said, and smiled. "Chutney needs only to show that

Brooke is guilty of the murder for cutting her out of the will."

"Who is Chutney?" Elle asked, trying to hide that she already knew
who Chutney Vandermark was. A Delta Gamma.

"Chutney Vandermark. That's his daughter, who, by the way, is a year

older than Brooke."

"Blonde?" Elle asked the lawyer.

"I'm sorry?" Christopher Miles asked, puzzled.

"Is Chutney blonde?" Elle couldn't remember.

"No. Why?" He looked at the pink homecoming queen with curiosity.

"Then I am perfect for this job," Elle announced.

"I'm not sure I understand."

Elle smiled. "It's my ambition. That's why I'm in law school," she
said. "In one assignment I said that I was going to found the BLDF. The
Blonde Legal Defense Fund. My professor read my essay to the class."
 Christopher Miles started laughing.

"Come on... I'm serious," Elle frowned. "There's a lot of anti-blonde

prejudice in the professional world. Believe me, I know. Not the jokes. I
mean, that's just envy, you know?"

Christopher Miles smiled.

"So the Blonde Legal Defense Fund will stand up for blondes
everywhere!" Elle finished. "Starting with Brooke Vandermark, who is
definitely a blonde. And anyway, Brooke didn't do it. She didn't kill
Heyworth Vandermark."

"Oh, really? Do you also know who did it?" Miles asked skeptically.

"Chutney did it," Elle said.

"His daughter? What makes you so sure?" The lawyer stared at her.

"Chutney did it," Elle said again.

"I've told you very little about Brooke," he said. "Chutney has already
given statements to the police. I am sure she will testify against Brooke.
Brooke's personal trainer, the gardener, the maid, and the interior designer
are all pointing at Brooke as the murderer."

Elle didn't speak. She folded her arms and glared at the lawyer.

"Remember, Elle," the lawyer continued, "Chutney is the man's

daughter. She is his blood. Brooke only married Heyworth Vandermark
about a year ago, and it's pretty clear that she did it for the money."

"I think you are wrong about that," Elle protested. "A woman my age
who marries an old man hoping that he doesn't write her out of his will and
leave it all to his daughter, that's a woman who's ready to work for her
money. That man had been married almost as many times as Larry King, for
God's sake! But he kept Brooke. That's good work, hard work: keeping a
rich man happy. Anyone who marries for money earns it in the end."
 Christopher looked at Elle, took his pen, and then wrote something on
his pad. Now he realized that it was more than he had heard in twenty
interviews during which law students had tried to sell their legal ambitions.

"And what about Chutney?"

"Well," Elle said, "I only know a little. But from what you've told me,
it's got to be Brooke or Chutney. Chutney is the late-in-life kid: those just
see this old thing between them and their inheritance."

"God, Elle, that's pretty cynical!"

"I am from L.A.," she said, and smiled. "Have you been to California
Cafe? If you'd like to test my theory, let's talk about it over dinner."

"Shall we invite the other students?" the lawyer asked. "Sorry, I can't
eat in a company bigger than two."

"Why don't I meet you there, say at five-thirty?"

"Why don't you pick me up, say at six?" Elle wrote her address and
phone number on a pink sheet of paper. "Call if you get lost." She crossed
her fingers and left the room.
 CHAPTER THIRTY

The terrace tables at California Cafe were lively with the shoppers
enjoying the early spring.

Elle was watching her company. She noticed some gray in

Christopher Miles's dark hair. She wondered if he had been divorced. He
was successful, calm, and knowledgeable. Elle had never dated an older
man. She did not realize until the waiter appeared that she had been staring
into Miles's hazel eyes.

"It's a nice night to sit outside," Elle said, taking her water glass.

She had wanted to be prepared to discuss Brooke's case, so she talked

to people who knew, or knew of, Brooke Vandermark. She had spent hours
on the phone with sorority sisters, gathering gossip about Brooke's USC
days, making notes of details. The best rumors, as always, came from
Margot.

Elle ordered fish and a salad, while Christopher ordered a steak with
baked potatoes and scotch with no ice.

Elle laughed. "I don't know how you can eat and drink like that," she
said. "You remind me of our Torts professor Glenn."

"Don't tell me old man Glenn is still teaching!" Christopher shook his
head. "He must be a hundred years old."

"I can't imagine you at Stanford," Elle said. She tried to picture the
stylish Christopher Miles at Stanford Law. Maybe law school was different
back then.

Christopher smiled. "I can't imagine you either, Miss Woods."

"Well," Elle said. "I am studying law to help people like Brooke. She
needs someone to believe in her. That's why I want to work on her case."
 "Very well, Miss Woods. A lawyer who wants to help. Tell me, Elle,"
Miles asked, "would you take this job if I just let you... help with no
references or job offer?"

"Totally," Elle said. "If we get Brooke out of trouble, I'll get
references from her. And we will get Brooke out of trouble because she
didn't do it. She didn't need the money. She always worked very hard. She
was a perfectionist. She was nice to animals. And once she was... really
fat."

"Fat?" Christopher asked. "Elle, I just don't see why it's important. By
the way, she's in great shape now."

Elle frowned. "Don't you see, she made something of herself," she
protested. "She's worked for it."

"You talk about her as if you know her," Christopher said, puzzled.

Elle nodded. "I do. She was my aerobics instructor at USC. She was
very popular. It was the hardest class I ever took!"

Christopher raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Elle smiled warmly. "I wasn't sure that Brooke was the same one I
knew at USC when I talked with you this afternoon," she explained, "but I
made some calls. She was Brooke Rayburn then. Like I said, she used to be
fat, but after some family problems, she started losing weight. Brooke went
on a grazing diet, and she went to the gym constantly. Can you imagine?"

"Grazing?"

"Yes, the grazing diet. That's what it's called. It got really popular in
L.A., but nobody had known about it before Brooke published it. The idea
is to graze, but not really eat. That worked really well, and all of the Thetas
lost a lot of weight. Later Brooke lost enough weight to get a job, teaching
aerobics at the gym she went to. That's where I met her. She published her
grazing diet and then set up a wellness center and even a restaurant.
Anyway, the place grew and became really popular with all kinds of people.
That's how she met Heyworth. But by that time she had already made good
money."

Christopher moved closer to the table, listening. "I wonder why she
didn't tell me that," he said.

"Oh please," Elle frowned, "she's gorgeous now. Why would she tell
you she used to look quite different?"

"Talk to her, Elle," Christopher said quickly. "She'll tell you things she
won't tell me. You've already made her look more likable - not like someone
who could marry or kill for money."

Elle raised her water glass. "I've got a job then, right?"

Christopher smiled. "You'll do well, my friend. You've got a job. I'll

be using your brain."

"Perfect." She smiled. She had never heard herself and her brain
mentioned together. She was a winner. If Warner got the job, she'd finally
get some time with him. If he didn't, then who would be the "serious"
lawyer after all?
 CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Eugenia called when she returned early from her visit home and said
she had great news. Elle was also eager to tell Eugenia about Christopher
Miles, so they agreed to meet on campus.

In an hour, the two girls hugged when they met. "You look gorgeous,"
Elle said. Eugenia blushed happily, showing her newly cut black hair. "Did
you get it done while you were home?"

"I did! I broke up with my boyfriend Kenneth, and now I need to look
my best. He wanted us to get married," Eugenia said with disgust.

"Oh no, Eugenia!" Elle cried. "Why don't you want to marry him?
Wasn't he your college sweetheart?"

"He was. He told me I broke his heart," Eugenia answered, "and I told
him it was never mine to break. Besides, there's the other thing I need to tell
you about. I met one writer, and he seems really cool. I've talked to him a
lot, and now that I'm free, I'm going out with him tonight!"

"That's great!" Elle said. "Where are you guys going? A poetry
reading or something?"

"No, to a cafe. Maybe he's more for you!"

"Well, I can't wait to meet him, but I'm going to be pretty busy. I've
got the internship, and I'm going to help Brooke Vandermark!"

Eugenia raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Well, if you're as helpful to

Brooke as you are to me, everything will be great," she said. "Look, today
I'm single and want to be manicured for tonight's dinner. Shall we go to a
salon?"

"Sure," Elle said. "Let's go."

 Excited to see Christopher Miles again, Elle was the first to arrive the
next morning. When Warner sat next to her, Elle blushed nervously.
"Warner!" she said. "I'm so glad to see you."

Sarah entered the room and sat close to Warner, nodding in Elle's
direction.

"Sarah," Elle said and nodded too.

Cari Zellwether came in next. After a general hello, she sat and
opened a huge black briefcase from which she took out a casebook. Elle
decided to leave the February issue of Harper's Bazaar in her bag. She took
out a pink pad instead.

When Christopher Miles arrived, he apologized for keeping them all

waiting. "Out of the forty or so applicants I interviewed, I've chosen the
four of you to work with me on this case," the lawyer said. "You might be
wondering why you were selected, so let me tell you exactly why."
Christopher looked around the room. "Cari, your interest is criminal law,
and I see that you've already worked in this field. This will be good
experience for you. Sarah, I went to law school with your father. If you've
got half of his work enthusiasm, you could try this case yourself. Warner,
your father and I went to the same school; besides, I didn't want to work
only with beautiful women! And Elle..." Everyone, including Elle, looked
curiously at Christopher Miles. She wondered if he'd mention their dinner.

"You said something to me about my client. Do you remember what

you said, Elle?"

"She didn't do it," Elle said nervously. "I told you that." Christopher
nodded. "You said you felt sorry for Brooke and asked me if she was a
blonde."

Sarah rolled her eyes, and Cari looked angrily at Christopher Miles.

"I have a feeling you will be able to understand her... situation better.
I'd like you to meet Brooke next week."
 CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Early in the morning, Elle sat gazing at the clock on the classroom
wall, thinking about Christopher Miles.

Maybe it was his eyes, or maybe his tone, which changed from gentle
to firm. Probably the eyes, Elle laughed to herself. She trusted Christopher
Miles and believed him that she could help on Brooke's case. She thought
she understood Brooke and Chutney. At least she knew where they came
from. Chutney was not the only girl in L.A. with a stepmother younger than
she was. Elle was familiar with the way these people lived. She could get
all the rumors with a phone call. She could find out the name of Brooke's
gardener, every ingredient of her grazing diet, every step of her aerobics
class. Could Sarah ever do that?

Elle watched as Professor Gilbreath walked from the board to the

back of the classroom. Was he already leaving? The professor pulled the
door closed. Turning to the class, he said, "This door shuts at nine. If it
opens again before nine- fifty, it will be because I open it. Not you. No late
arrivals, no excuses." The professor walked back to the board. "I don't like
to be interrupted."

Who does he think he is? Elle wondered.

"This class is about two things," Gilbreath began. "Death is number

one. Number two is money. This class is about death and money."

Someone bravely laughed behind Elle. Other than that, the auditorium
was quiet.

"First, let's talk about money. There are three ways to make it,"
continued the professor. "You can earn it, inherit it, or marry it. I've done all
three. If you're a wills lawyer, you can earn it when other people inherit it."

Better, marry it, Elle thought.

 "Now," the professor smiled, "we can talk about death. This class will
be your easiest class because it is based on one rule: dead people can't own
money. And that's all I have for today." The professor walked to the door.
"Any questions?"

Nobody dared.

"Very good. See you tomorrow at nine, then."

Elle glanced at the wall clock, which read 9:11. Wills could become
her favorite subject.
 CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The Vandermark case was becoming more complicated every day

with new witnesses and details. Elle felt excited to be a part of it. Her
parents had never pushed her towards a career, but the mortal sin of the
Woods family was to be "boring."

The elevator door opened to the office of Miles and Slocum. The
floors were marble; the furniture was modem and perfect. The room was
big, and the windows gave a fabulous view of the bay. "Best-looking firm in
the country," Christopher had said about it. Looking around, Elle didn't
doubt it.

"I'm Elle Woods. I have an appointment with Christopher Miles," Elle

said to the receptionist.

"Elle Woods. I saw your name on Mr. Miles's appointment calendar.

Is this a personal appointment?"

"No, no," Elle protested a bit too quickly. "I'm working on the
Vandermark case. I'm one of the interns from Stanford."

The receptionist looked suspiciously at Elle and asked her to take a

seat in the waiting room while she called Mia, Christopher's secretary.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Mia said. On the way to Christopher's

office, she gave Elle a brief tour.

The interns' office was empty. There were two heavy wooden desks,
one of which was covered with documents. "Don't worry, that's Sarah
Knottingham's papers," Mia explained. "She's coming back later for
documents review. You can wait for Mr. Miles in his office. He called from
the car. He'll be here soon."

Elle stood up when the lawyer came in.

 "Elle," Christopher Miles greeted her. "We have to leave now, so take
whatever you need and let's go. I'm glad you're going to be present at this
deposition. Henry Kohn, Chutney's lawyer, has his main office in San
Francisco. That's where we're going. Come on, we're late."

Elle saw Cari looking at them suspiciously from behind a paper

mountain as she and Christopher walked through the hall.

In the elevator, Elle asked Miles about the other interns. Christopher
smiled. "Cari is probably reading cases. As for you, Elle, I want you to meet
all of the witnesses. With your background, I think you'll be very helpful
with the facts."

"Let me tell you about our witness," Christopher said while they were
driving in his green Jaguar convertible. "The witness dislikes Brooke. He
was Brooke's interior designer, until he quit. He uses the word 'murder' a
lot. According to him, she 'murdered' the sitting room and the library, and
'planned to kill' the foyer. The witness's name is Trenton Davis."

"Trent? Trent Davis? I've known Trent since I was a little girl," Elle
cried. "My mother owns an art gallery, so she works with a lot of designers.
Trent is her favorite designer - and mine too! He's not only the best
designer, he's totally charming!"

"I can't believe you know Trenton Davis!" Christopher shook his head
as if he felt sorry for Elle.

"Know him? He is a real gem! He redid our house in Bel Air after the
earthquake, and I thought at the time that I might be interested in becoming
a designer myself, so he took me everywhere with him to let me get a real
view of the business."

"Trenton Davis might be charming, but right now he is an ideal

plaintiff's witness, Elle."
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Kohn and Siglery is not like Miles and Slocum at all, Elle thought.
She heard Trent talking to the receptionist from the waiting room, where
she was sitting, and came out to greet him.

"Elle Woods!" Trent was surprised to see her. "Are you in trouble, you
little devil?" he asked, kissing both of Elle's cheeks.

"No, Trent, I'm actually here with the lawyers - not to see one," she
said, and laughed, happy to see him.

"Oh my God! Your mother told me about law school, but I simply
cannot believe my eyes. You, with all of your creativity, my darling... a
lawyer?"

"Well, not yet. I'm helping a lawyer," Elle said, turning to Christopher,
who came up and introduced himself as Brooke Vandermark's attorney.

"And you still wear pink. Still fashionable." Trent was always
interested in what Elle was wearing.

Elle smiled. "Let's sit down and talk. I've heard you worked for
Brooke," she started.

"It was awful. I never should have taken the job. I was the sixth
designer. All of the others had quit or been fired. The woman's a monster!"

Henry Kohn and Chutney entered the waiting room. Elle glanced at
Chutney's tight black dress and frizzy hair. She looked more confident than
her lawyer. Chutney glared at the group and crossed her arms.

"You shouldn't talk to lawyers about the case until I'm present," Henry
Kohn told Trent, shaking Christopher's hand.
 Trent shrugged. "My little darling Elle Woods has brightened up this
tiring event," he said.

Elle introduced herself to Henry Kohn and told the lawyer that she
had known Trent since childhood. "We were just chatting," she said,
blushing.

"Of course," Henry said. Elle followed the lawyers into a conference
room where Brooke Vandermark was already sitting at a conference table.

Christopher turned to Henry Kohn angrily. "Your receptionist did not

tell me that my client had already arrived," he said, pointing at Brooke.

Elle was still looking around when she caught Brooke's curious stare.

"Brooke, this is my assistant, Elle Woods. She's a student at Stanford

Law School," Christopher said and smiled.

Brooke nodded, and Elle blushed. "Hello, Brooke. I'm very pleased to
see you." Elle glanced at Chutney's lawyer. This was the wrong time for
small talk. Christopher had introduced her as his assistant, and she shouldn't
be talking about college as if they were at a college reunion.

This is serious, Elle told herself. Act like it. Don't say anything. Nod
and take notes. She smiled at Trent and sat down silently next to
Christopher, with the pad in her lap. She also noticed Brooke's earrings:
small hoops with two small figures. Twins, Gemini, Elle thought to herself.
Ruled by the planet Mercury. She needs affection and understanding.

The deposition was brief. Trent used the word "murder" to describe
Brooke's attitude to the interior of her house, but when he was asked about
her personality, he only said that she was "immature."

Elle winked at Trent on the way out and promised to call him the next
time she was in L.A. She followed Christopher and Brooke to the lobby.
When they were outside, Brooke sighed with relief.

"You did great," Christopher answered the question in Brooke's eyes.

 "Thanks," Brooke said. "I can't believe what he said about my house."

"By the way, Trent did my family's house in Bel Air," Elle added.

Brooke looked at Elle, surprised. "You're from Bel Air?"

Elle nodded. "I went to USC, Brooke, and I took your aerobics class."

"You did?" Brooke said, and laughed.

Then Elle and Brooke began to discuss common friends, classes,

enemies, and memories. When they were parting, Elle and Christopher were
planning to go to dinner, and Brooke wrote down Elle's phone number on a
piece of paper. Then she asked, "Can I stay with you for a day or so until I
find a place? But if you don't have a guest room or something..."

"Of course you can stay," Elle said firmly. "Underdog, my Chihuahua,
will be thrilled to have some company."
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

It was the first Valentine's Day that Elle had not looked forward to.
Stanford Law School announced first-semester grades on February 14. To
make matters worse, Sarah would be spending the evening with Warner,
and Elle hadn't even got a date.

"Oh, Underdog," Elle said in the morning, looking at her beloved pet.
"Today's a horrible day." She put on her trainers to take Underdog for a
walk.

A short time later Elle went to class, wishing that she were
somewhere... anywhere else. Only the huge red heart on her white T-shirt
made her smile.

The halls were crowded with students comparing grades. Walking

towards the student lounge and looking for Eugenia, Elle met Aaron, one of
her classmates.

"I cannot believe it!" Aaron cried, waving a piece of paper in the air.
He showed Elle his report card. "Three point one and four! My GPA is pi!"

"Congratulations, Aaron." Elle looked around for some pie or any

other dessert offered for Valentine's Day.

Then she went to her mailbox. Two bouquets of flowers had been
delivered to the registrar's office in Elle's name. A note in her mailbox read:
"Come to the Registrar! You have flowers!" Elle smiled and hurried to the
front office. Just maybe, she hoped.

One bright bouquet was from Trent with a card saying it was nice to
see her; the other, strangely, was from Austin, the plastic surgeon she had
dated only once.

What was I thinking? Elle told herself. Like Warner would send me
flowers.
 She took her report card and put it unopened into her heart- shaped
bag. Then she looked through her Valentines. One was from her classmate
Dr. Dan; another one was from Sidney. A "secret admirer" card in Eugenia's
handwriting promised to kill all boring professors to win Elle's love. Elle
giggled.

She opened a pink envelope with her last card.

Have a great Valentine's Day, alone!

Sarah

"Lovely of her to think of me," Elle smirked.

On her way back, Elle saw Sarah and Claire ahead in the hallway. At
first, she wanted to pass them quickly, but when she noticed Sarah wiping
her eyes, she paused with curiosity.

What could Sarah possibly be crying about? I'm the one without a
date on Valentine's Day. She leaned against the wall and opened her purse
as if looking for something. She wanted to hear Sarah.

"Nobody gets kicked out of Stanford. You know that, Sarah," Claire
said.

Sarah was holding her report card in one hand and tissue paper in the
other. Elle gasped. Sarah was crying over her grades! If Sarah had failed her
classes, and if Elle had passed, then Elle would have Warner all to herself.
Finally, they would be together. It was a miracle. Sarah could be gone. Yet
it seemed too good to be true.

Elle started walking slowly behind Sarah and Claire, trying to hear
everything, but Claire's next words were confusing.
 "You should be thrilled with your grades, Sarah! I'm sure you're at the
top of our class," Claire said. "I don't know anybody whose grades are as
high as yours. Be happy for yourself. Warner will find his way." Claire
paused, and then continued, "Warner can't be good at everything, Sarah.
Maybe law school just isn't for him."

Sarah shook her head. "Warner's shocked by his grades, but if he had
to go back home..." she sobbed, "I don't know what would happen to him. I
don't know what would happen to us!"

Elle gasped. It was no miracle. It was the worst possible thing. Warner
could be gone, and she'd be left here with Sarah. Suddenly, she remembered
the unopened report card in her bag. Maybe she had failed too. She took out
the envelope, but changed her mind and put it back into her purse. She
didn't want any more bad news so early in the day.

"Your father will still hire him, won't he, Sarah?" Claire asked.

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. He's not so sure about him. Nobody is,
after he dated that Barbie doll for four years," she said. "He'll be fine. I'd
really have to pressure Daddy to hire him, but even if he works somewhere
else, that still means he can run for office."

Claire hugged Sarah.

"I should go home. I can't stay in class like nothing happened when
he's at home, all alone. I should be with him now. That Barbie doll is just
waiting for her chance," Sarah added. "I won't let them have this chance."

Elle thought of Sarah's words and smiled. Sarah knew she was
waiting for her chance, all right.

"Well, don't miss your classes," Claire said. "That won't help him, and
it can only hurt you. I have to go to class now." With those words, Claire
left.

Elle saw that now Sarah was standing alone in the hallway, staring
into space. Impulsively, Elle called her name. The girl turned, surprised.
Elle smiled and walked towards Sarah. "Thanks for the Valentine," she said.

Sarah looked beaten. "I'm sorry, Elle," Sarah said, looking at her. "I
acted like a child. I feel so stupid."

"Don't worry about it," Elle said. "Anyway, what makes you think I'm
spending my Valentine's Day alone?" Elle laughed.

"You know what I meant by that," Sarah said, with a little smile. She
checked the time on her watch. "Elle, we have ten minutes before the next
class, can I talk to you?"

Elle shrugged. She and Sarah went to an empty room.

Sarah paused, then started to speak. "Look, I know I have no right to

ask you this, but I need your help. Please, don't take it wrong."

Elle raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything.

"I see you in class... when you go to class. I see you reading those
magazines or painting your nails... But your grades," Sarah said, "are
probably better than Warner's."

Elle thought of her unopened report card. "Well, it's not about me
anymore, right," she said coolly.

"No, Elle, you're right. It's about me. I haven't told Warner, but my
grades are excellent. I'll be at the top of our class."

"You must be very proud."

"I am. But Warner's grades are so bad," Sarah explained. "I'm afraid it
will be hard for him to live with my success."

Elle frowned, trying to see what Sarah had to say.

"I tell myself he'll love me even more when he finds out about my
grades. But I don't know, Elle."
 Elle wondered if Sarah wanted to ask her if Cosmo had an answer.

"You know Warner, Elle," Sarah said. "You dated him. You know
what he's like, and what he likes." She paused. "Will he be happy for my
success?"

Elle sighed and decided to tell Sarah the truth. "Warner hates losing.
He'd be happy for you if only he had done well himself."

Sarah stared at the floor quietly.

"Warner won't love you because you did better than he did," Elle
added. "He won't love you because you've succeeded. Don't you see that
Warner loves only himself?"

"What should I say to him then, Elle?" Sarah asked. "What would you
do?"

"You want to know how to make him love you more?"

Sarah nodded.

"Make him believe you think the sun waits to rise until he gets up."

All through her classes, Elle was thinking about the strange events
that had just happened. Sidney was still packing his laptop after the lecture
when Elle tried to walk past him.

"Elle, did you get my present? It's really great," announced Sidney,
grinning proudly.

"No, Sidney, but thank you in advance," Elle answered as she hurried
away.

She went all day without checking her grades, fearing the worst.
When she got home, her condo looked like a florist's shop. Her landlord,
Mr. Hopson, had used his key to let the delivery men inside. Nice of him,
she thought warmly.
 She reached nervously into her bag for her report card. "Come here,
Underdog," she called. "Let's see if we have to move again."

Elle looked at the paper and ran to the phone to call Eugenia who was
also the top student in her class.

"Genie! I passed everything."

"I knew you would!"

After hanging up, Elle glanced at her pet. "I made it, Underdog," she
announced happily. She read a card from Serena and Margot. "We still love
you, even if you want to be a lawyer."

Elle went to the kitchen. A dozen pink roses sat on the counter. She
opened the card, positive that these flowers, finally, were from Warner. The
card read, simply, "To remember the good times." Elle jumped, clapping her
hands together. Clearly, the good times weren't in the past, or he wouldn't
have sent her the same roses as always.

Then Elle froze when she saw a huge basket with cookies. The note
attached to it was signed by Sidney. Elle didn't know whether to laugh or
cry.
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Now Elle was studying with the enthusiasm of a practitioner, as an

advocate for a real-life blonde. She didn't even notice how interested she
had become in law. She was also hoping to impress Christopher Miles. Elle
had started reading newspaper articles. Her desk was covered with papers
marked VANDERMARK. Also there were textbooks, manuals and outlines
on the will procedure.

The next morning, expecting two packages from Christopher Miles,

Elle rushed from her class to the mailbox. Christopher had sent copies of
Chutney Vandermark's deposition transcripts. Elle expected to see the
transcripts in her mailbox. Instead, there was a note, which asked her to go
to the copy center because Chutney's deposition was too thick for a law
school mailbox. It was over three hundred pages.

Elle went to the lounge to read what Chutney had had to say to the
lawyers, and that's where Eugenia found her.

"Hey, Elle," Eugenia yelled. "Coming to Property class today,

Princess?"

Elle looked up and smiled. "Sure."

They got some coffee before walking to class, where she and Eugenia
sat together.

Elle and her friend had already taken their seats when they saw Sarah
in her power suit enter the room. Sarah came up to them.

"I was at Christopher Miles's office this morning," she said. She
looked at Elle. "He's already asked me to do documents review. Have you
had a meeting at Miles and Slocum yet?"

She clearly didn't know that Elle had already been to one deposition
and two dinners with Christopher where they had discussed the case in
detail. Elle smiled. She told Sarah that Trent's deposition had been quite
interesting, and that today "her client" was coming to stay with her.

"That's more important than just documents review," she added.

Elle and Brooke arrived that afternoon at the office of Miles and
Slocum. The intern and the client had become friends because Brooke's
one-day planned visit turned into six days.

Brooke was terribly homesick for her life and friends in Malibu. "I
still think that maybe I should have had Heyworth's child. He wanted to,
you know," she said.

"Well, you had his love," Elle said, "and you will find another love."
So easy to tell somebody else, she thought. It never helped her when she
thought about Warner. "But you know, Brooke, you really need to tell me
who was at your Shopper Stoppers meeting, so we can prove that you didn't
kill Heyworth. You don't have a single alibi witness!" she added in a
whisper. "Shut the door," Brooke said quietly.

Elle pulled the door closed. How proud Christopher would be if she
got the name of an alibi witness! Brooke trusts me, she thought. "Please,
Brooke, who can testify for you?" she asked.

"Elle, you don't understand," Brooke said. "I can't hurt the people who
have helped me. I can't embarrass them. The only people who knew where I
was when my husband was shot are in my support group, and I won't
expose them. Even if nobody testifies for me."

Elle frowned. It's hopeless, she thought.

"Elle, the Shopper Stoppers meetings... they gave my future back to

me. I got what Heyworth loved about me, and he was so happy."

"What do you mean?"

"When Heyworth met me at the wellness center, he was trying to get

in shape, and I made him my project. His whole attitude had to change. He
was almost ready to die. Everyone treated him like an old man with great
achievements in the past. But I didn't care about his past. His companies,
shares, or vineyards weren't my interests. We started working out together,
and he was like a child, improving his health with enthusiasm and getting
stronger. That's what I cared about. Together, we had our eyes set on the
future. On our future."

"What does that have to do with your alibi, Brooke?" Elle said. "What
would Heyworth want you to do?"

"I think he'd want me to do just what I'm doing - to move forward. I'll
go to court, and I'll tell the judge and jury the truth. I won't hurt anyone."

"Your future doesn't look so bright, Brooke."

"Elle, the only people who care about my future, besides you and
Christopher, whom I'm paying, are the Shopper Stoppers. So I won't expose
them, even to save myself. They still have families. And they're my family."

"Take me to a meeting," Elle said, suddenly. "I won't say a word to

Christopher or anyone. I want to meet your friends."
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Elle was bored in classes, which she attended less and less often, but
she still wanted to win Warner back. Law school had not changed her in
Warner's eyes. She'd see Warner after class, and she could be holding a
Property textbook in one hand and a deposition in the other, but to him she
might as well be holding a copy of Cosmo. So Elle had apian to work out at
the gym available for Miles and Slocum employees. Positive that she'd meet
Warner there, she packed her gym clothes and the latest Cosmo to read for
the next day.

That night the phone rang, and Elle answered it. It was Eugenia. "So
what's up?" she asked. "I don't see you that often anymore."

"The internship is great... and it's a way to see Warner!" Elle

exclaimed. "The firm is next to a building that has a gym, and we can use it.
I've been working out every day there."

"So have you seen him there yet?"

"Not yet. It's only been two weeks, but I'm positive I'll see him there
tomorrow. We used to work out together," Elle added dreamily.

The next day, Elle got to the gym around 4:30 P.M. She had seen
Mia's schedule that said Warner would arrive around 5:00 P.M.

At five o'clock Elle looked up from her Cosmo and saw Sarah
entering the gym. Great, now it's Sarah and Warner who work out together,
she thought, but she didn't see him anywhere. Elle was watching Sarah who
clearly hadn't seen her yet.

Sarah looked around, then went to the machines and saw Elle. Elle's
blonde hair and makeup were still perfect, and her pink leotard outlined all
the right places. Sarah stared at her with her mouth open.
 "Sarah!" Elle exclaimed in mock surprise. "I didn't know you worked
out here."

"Well, today's my first day," Sarah said. "Warner made a schedule for
me to follow. He said you used to do it twice a day, but I don't know if I can
do... aerobics."

"Aerobics? Did Warner also say that my aerobics instructor was

Brooke Vandermark?" Elle asked.

"You're kidding!" Sarah exclaimed. "I'm really glad Warner doesn't

work out here. He's dying to use this gym, but he doesn't want Christopher
to think he's lazy. Besides, I'd be so embarrassed if he saw me here."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Elle joked. "How about a

deal?"

"Well... what kind of?"

"I'll work out with you if you help me with some of our most difficult
classes like Property. I'll really need your notes and your outlines at the end
of the semester." Elle wanted to succeed at the whole law school game.

"It's a deal," Sarah agreed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Over the March vacation, selections for the Stanford Law Review had
been made based on first-semester grades and a writing competition. On the
morning of her first day back,

Elle found Eugenia by the coffee machine. Elle and Eugenia watched
the excited students jump around.

"Did you make it, Genie?" Elle asked. She suddenly remembered that
her friend was a top student.

Eugenia grinned. "I could've, but no thanks. I think you'll agree that
there are better ways to spend your time."
 "Probably there are very few worse," Elle laughed.

"Oh, by the way, Sarah made it, but Warner didn't."

Leaving the school building, Elle didn't notice that Larry had
followed her.

"Elle, wait!" he called.

She turned around, surprised. Larry stared at Elle, walking next to her.
She took out her car keys, planning to get into her Range Rover.

"Elle," Larry said. "You know you're too sexy for law school."

"Larry, my mom's Volvo is too sexy for law school."

Larry laughed. He leaned against the Range Rover, gazing at Elle

dreamily. "I want to make you smile, and give you presents worthy of your
beauty and your style," he said. He paused, watching Elle's reaction.

"You're the Secret Angel!" Elle cried.

"Every true romantic needs his Muse, Elle."

"Oh, Larry, why on earth are you wasting your talents in law school?"

"Elle," he smiled, "my talents aren't wasted." A. Lawrence Hesterton

turned around and went back to the house of law.

Now that Elle knew who her Secret Angel was, she decided that if she
was his Muse, he was her Knight.
 CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Elle woke up the next morning feeling nervous about the finals, even
though they were still quite a long time away. She wondered how she would
do this time. She took Underdog for a long walk.

Elle arrived to Professional Responsibility half an hour late. The class

was boring, so she turned to Vogue to learn something more important. In
Wills and Estate Planning Elle gazed around at the student audience,
cheered only by the fact that Brooke was on bail and visiting her today after
class. Maybe she'd take Brooke shopping.

Behind her, she could hear Cari and Michael exchanging death jokes:
"Did you hear the one about the lawyer who believed in reincarnation? In
his will he left everything to himself!" Michael laughed.

Dr. Dan dropped his head to the desk. "What I don't know won't hurt
me," he said.

Elle pulled out self just as Professor Gilbreath shut the door to begin
the class.

After classes, Elle walked towards the front entrance, where Brooke
stood waiting. She looked stunning in a green silk dress.

"So you're free again," Elle laughed, greeting Brooke.

"Congratulations."

"What a relief," Brooke said. "Christopher's so great. You should have

heard him at the bail hearing!"

"Come on," Elle said. "I want to show you what my prison is like."
Together they walked to the law lounge where they got some coffee and sat
down to chat.
 "I've been so busy, Elle, I wanted to come see you sooner.
Everything's been so crazy, and I was trying to get back to my normal life. I
want you to see my new Mercedes."

"Already?" Elle gasped, laughing. "Oh, Brooke!"

"Heyworth wanted to get rid of the Jaguar, anyway," Brooke

explained.

"Wow," Elle said, smiling. "What loyalty. You would have made a
great Delta Gamma."

"I was rejected," Brooke said. "I became a Theta."

"Oops," Elle covered her mouth, embarrassed. "Theta's cool, though."

"It's all history now. But I've made something of myself without Delta
Gamma!"

Elle laughed. "So what are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?" Brooke asked. "After the trial?" Elle nodded.

"Well, if Christopher keeps me out of jail, I'll get married again, of

course." Suddenly she jumped from her chair, checking her watch. "Oh,
Elle, I didn't realize how late it was. I've got to get to my meeting."

Elle grinned. "Shopper Stoppers Anonymous?"

"Exactly," Brooke said.

Elle followed Brooke to the parking lot, where the Mercedes with its
license plates reading ISO SWM was waiting for the owner.
 CHAPTER FOURTY

"I'm dying to know where these anonymous meetings are held," Elle
said, getting into Brooke's car.

After a while, they stopped at the Hilton hotel. The Hilton. Elle
wondered if one of the members rented a suite under a false name.

Brooke and Elle entered the hotel and went to a second- floor suite.
There were cheap plastic chairs placed around a long table. Several people,
the most eclectic mix Elle had ever seen, were already sitting there. They
seemed to be everything from housewives, to mechanics, to doctors, to
CEO's.

When Brooke and Elle entered, Brooke announced that Elle was there
as a guest and not a member. Brooke invited everyone to introduce
themselves to Elle, and when nobody volunteered, Elle said, "Hi. My name
is Elle Woods. I'm Brooke's friend from college, and I wanted to meet the
people who have helped her so much."

"I'm Miranda," said a small dark-haired woman. "Welcome." Miranda

stood up and closed the door behind Elle. "We're all here," she said,
returning to her seat. "Yves, why don't you begin by introducing yourself to
our guest."

A wrinkled man wearing glasses got up. "My name is Yves Muir," he
said. "My shopping debt last month was on five credit cards, three in my
wife's name, and she's been dead for years." Elle nodded. The man nodded
back.

"Yves is our new member," Miranda said. She then turned to a woman
next to Yves. "Veronica, why don't you introduce yourself next?"

"My name is Veronica," said the woman, "and I'm a florist. I always
loved shopping!"
 "Nice to meet you, Veronica," Elle said, smiling.

Next was a man in a black T-shirt. "I'm Jeff," he said. "I am a

guitarist. We've got a gig tonight in the city. I can put you on the guest list if
you want."

Brooke laughed, and Elle blushed. "Thanks."

The other people seated around the table introduced themselves to

Elle one by one. There was Walter, a CEO; Gloria, a dentist; Anne, an
interior designer; Carolyn, a school principal; Jean, a secretary; and
Nicolette, from TV Channel.

Brooke thanked the group. "You all know how hard it is to find
someone who understands our addiction, and even though Elle never even
had one, she's been my greatest support outside of the group. I brought her
here today so that she could understand the importance of these meetings
and what the meetings and the members mean to me."

Suddenly Miranda jumped up from her chair. "For those of you who
don't know me," she began. "I'm a recovering shopaholic. As your leader,
I've spent a lot of time telling you how I overcame my addiction and what
Shopper Stoppers has done for me, but today I'd like to tell you something
more important. I used to be lonely. Now I know that if I ever get lonely, I
will turn to you... my friends. That is what recovery is all about. It's about
friendship, support, and anonymity. It's about coming to people whom I can
trust, knowing that they'll never expose me. That is friendship to me, and
it's why I've been shopping-free for one year, two months, and three days!"
Elle looked at Brooke's face and knew that she would never ever expose
any group members.
 CHAPTER FOURTY-ONE

When Elle and Underdog returned from a long walk the next day,
there was a message on the answering machine.

"Elle." Warner still didn't bother to introduce himself. "I'm calling

from the office." He paused. "From Miles and Slocum, I mean. I, uh, hoped
you'd be here today. Listen, I really wanted to talk to you. Can we have
dinner, maybe, tonight?" Warner lowered his voice. "I want to change
something... and you're still the only... the only person, I think, who
understands... what I want in my life." Warner sighed. "Anyway, call me
here. Sarah's not coming in today."

Elle grabbed the phone and quickly dialed the office number. "It's Elle
Woods calling. Can you connect me with Warner, please?" Excited, she held
her breath.

"Elle," Warner said. "Just whom I wanted to hear."

"Oh, Warner," Elle said. "It's so great to hear from you. What's up?"

"Listen, Elle, I can't really talk here. I'll be downtown, and I wanted to
see you. Can we meet for dinner? My treat. I've been thinking here...
There's something I wanted to talk with you about. You alone."

Elle jumped up, almost dropping the phone. "Warner, of course," she
answered. "Time and place?"

"How about Masa's?"

"Warner, that's my favorite!"

"Perfect," he decided. "Seven-thirty, then. I'll reserve a table, under

Huntington. Table for two."
 "Huntington," Elle repeated dreamily when she put the phone down.
"Table for two. For two Huntington's." She knew that this sudden dinner
invitation could only mean one thing. Her next call was to Josette to make
an appointment.

"Warner's taking me to dinner tonight!" Elle cried when she came into
the beauty salon.

"I knew it was Warner." The manicurist smiled. "Is it a special

occasion?"

"I think it is." Elle nodded. "Josette..." She paused. "I think... I hope
he'll come back to me tonight. For good."

Josette raised her eyebrow. "Isn't there a woman, already his fiancee?"

"I think it's over," Elle said. "He called me and said he had to see me
alone. He said he's been thinking about his life, and he's thinking about
some changes. He wants to tell me all about it at dinner."

"Are you sure that's what he means?"

Elle nodded eagerly. "He was totally mysterious, you know? He's
reserving a Huntington table for two! That's exactly what he said. Two
Huntington's, and no Sarah. Finally, it's Warner and Elle."
 CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO

Elle was sitting in her parked car. She looked at her watch again. It
had been 7:30 the last time she checked and was only 7:32 now. She
refreshed her lipstick and listened to a couple more songs on the radio.

Finally, thinking that fifteen minutes of waiting was enough, Elle

entered the restaurant. "Huntington, table for two," she told the host.

"Yes, madam," he answered, leading Elle to an empty table. She didn't

notice the stares of men admiring her beauty and her silver dress with green
rhinestone straps.

"Would you like something to drink while you wait?" a waiter asked.
Elle sighed. She ordered mineral water, looking at the menu. Warner had
beaten her at the delay game.

"Elle!" Warner walked to the table just as her drink arrived.

"Hello, Warner," she nodded. She didn't stand up to greet him. Warner
leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic was heavy," he
said with a shrug.

"I just sat down, don't worry."

"You look beautiful," he touched her hand, "as always."

Elle smiled. "Thanks. It's been too long..."

"Right, I'm starved," Warner agreed, opening the menu. "It's great to
see you, Elle. It's so nice to get together again."

"It's wonderful," Elle smiled eagerly. Nothing had changed after all.
She began chatting about the Vandermark case, asking Warner about his
research.
 He frowned, "Elle, you never really cared about that stuff."

Elle was puzzled. She had spent so much energy on Brooke's case.
"But, Warner, I care about it now. I've become totally involved in this case."

"You're full of surprises, Elle," Warner laughed. "How about this for a
surprise... I'll have a steak tonight!"

"But you always have a steak," Elle answered, puzzled.

"Elle, you're right," Warner smiled. "It has been too long. God, I
haven't eaten red meat for ages. Sarah says red meat is bad for my heart.
Don't laugh, but I've been a different man lately."

"Sarah's bad for your heart," Elle said, angrily.

"Look, Elle, I've let a lot of things change me. It took me a while to
notice it myself. I thought I had to grow up, you know, into this new life.
But I looked around, at what I was becoming..." At that, Warner shook his
head. "No more, baby: I'm a new man."

Warner ordered wine. Red, Elle thought with disappointment, as if he

didn't know she would have chicken or fish.

"I think we need a toast," Warner said, holding his glass.

"To the old Warner, USC golden boy." With his USC golden girl, she
added mentally.

"I'll drink to that, Elle," Warner agreed. "Since I've seen you again,
through this internship, and around school... it has made me think about the
things we used to do when we were together."

Elle sighed and looked at him. "Warner, I think about it all the time.
Things were good back then. Why..."

"Exactly. Why, just because we went to law school, should anything

be different? You're so lovable. Your charm is that you'll never change.
You're a homecoming queen. I didn't know what to think when you showed
up at registration. It was so... unlikely." Warner smiled, gazing at Elle's face.
"I can't see you wasting your... whatever you've got, at a dull place like
Stanford. Law school can suck the life out of you, Elle. And you were
always so full of life."

"Warner," Elle gasped, "oh, I know. I know. I felt the same way about
you. Your films! Remember how you directed documentaries? Remember
Vegas?"

Warner reached for her hand. "Elle, you've known me better than
anyone. What you say about me... is true. I got into this law school routine.
I put other things... more important things... aside. But I'm not going to live
that way anymore, and I guess I should thank you."

Elle blushed. She waited for the words she dreamed Warner would
say, wondering whether he had taken the Rock back from Sarah, or maybe
gotten another ring for now.

"Maybe that doesn't make sense," Warner hesitated, "but seeing you
just be yourself, my Elle from college... taking the same exams as anyone
else..." He smiled. "Elle, you've taught me a lesson."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Warner laughed. "I mean you haven't changed, Elle. And you
shouldn't, and neither should I, just because of law school. It's a damn
degree, that's all. Everything can be just the way it was before."

"Oh, Warner," Elle cried, "I've wanted so much to hear you say that!"

"I know, Elle. I can't believe it took me this long. I should have
realized this when I first saw you at Stanford." Suddenly, Warner reached
into his jacket pocket.

This is it, Elle thought. "Warner, thank God, you're back!" she
exclaimed.
 "Yes, the old Warner is back. What was important to me before law
school is important to me again. No matter what Sarah says." He pulled his
hand from his pocket and put his fist upon the table. Elle gasped as Warner's
fist opened. She expected to see the Rock. Instead, there was a white golf
ball. "I played golf in college, and I'm going to play it again. Law school or
no law school. I don't care what Sarah says," Warner said firmly.

Elle left the restaurant in shock.

 CHAPTER FOURTY-THREE

Elle had got a message from Christopher Miles on her answering

machine. Chutney Vandermark's deposition was scheduled for 10:30 that
morning at the office of Kohn and Siglery in San Francisco. "Sorry I can't
drive with you, Elle," Miles had said. "Try to meet me there a little earlier,
around ten."

Elle looked at her watch and jumped from her office seat, hitting her
knee against the desk. She rubbed her knee and noticed a small run in her
nylons'. "Great," she said, reaching for her purse. She didn't have time to
change, and she didn't want Chutney to see her with a run in her nylons.
She'd disgrace the Delta Gamma house.

A woman should always carry clear nail polish for such occasions,
but Elle had only the pink one. She came up to Mia's desk. "Mia," she
begged, "tell me you have some clear nail polish!"

Mia opened the drawer of her desk and found a purple one.

"That won't work," Elle, sighed.

"Sorry, it's all I've got." Mia shrugged.

"That's okay," Elle said. "I guess I could use it anyway." Elle's nylons
were white.

"I've got clear polish, Elle, if you want to borrow it." Elle heard
Sarah's voice behind her and turned around, surprised. "It's in my office."

They walked into Sarah's office. "I keep it in here," Sarah said. "I
should keep an extra pair of nylons, too, for the really bad runs."

She gave Elle the nail polish, and she quickly put a drop on her hose.
"Thanks," Elle said and grinned.
 "You're welcome," Sarah replied quietly. "Elle, will you wait a
minute? I'm on my way too. Christopher asked me to go to the deposition."

"I know where the office is," Elle said, not looking at Sarah. "I'll give
you a ride. If you want." She glanced at the brunette.

"That would be nice," Sarah agreed.

On the way to the office of Kohn and Siglery, Elle found out that not
all of the interns were attending the deposition. "It's just you and me," Sarah
said.

Chutney Vandermark did not reply to a question without a nod from

her lawyer, Henry Kohn, and even then, she answered shortly and too
quietly. Several times, they had to ask Chutney to repeat herself. Most of
the time she sat with her arms crossed.

During one of the breaks, Christopher Miles left to check his

messages. Elle sat alone in the room with Sarah.

"She seems really upset," Sarah said, finally breaking the silence. "I
can't imagine what it must have been like. She actually found his body."

"She's not crying, though," Elle added.

"No, she's not," Sarah, agreed. "Poor thing, she must be just shocked,
losing her father like that."

"Still, I expected her to cry." Elle paused. "So she was working out at
the gym and then was home taking a shower when it happened..."

"God, I bet he was still bleeding. Can you imagine that?"

"No," Elle said. "No, I really can't. It must have been horrible."

Christopher Miles walked into the room and spoke to his interns.
"Listen," he said, "pay attention to her behavior. Her manners, where she
pauses, that sort of thing. The transcript won't help with that. Write down
anything that seems strange. It'll give me an idea where to go on cross-
examination."

Chutney and Henry Kohn returned. Christopher checked his watch.

"Thanks for your patience. We'll only be another fifteen minutes or so. I've
got almost everything I need."
 CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR

When Christopher Miles was alone with Brooke in the witness

preparation room, he wasn't patient anymore. "They will crucify you with
this... this so-called alibi," he told her angrily.

She stared at the lawyer silently.

"Jesus, Brooke, why do you have to make this so difficult? Do you

know how close you are to spending your life in jail?"

"I didn't do it, Christopher, I told you." She paused. "Poor Heyworth
was... I found him on the floor, lying there, and blood was everywhere."

"Brooke," Christopher repeated, "if you could just tell me who was at
that meeting... You don't understand how serious this is. You have no
witnesses, Brooke. None. Nobody can corroborate what you say. You will
lose everything and..."

Brooke rose from her chair. "I not tell you anything else. I did not do
it. Don't you see? I can't expose the support group members. I swore, you
know. These people have an addiction. They were the only people who
helped me get my life together."

"Brooke." The lawyer shook his head. "We've talked about it before.
They'll understand... Anyone would understand."

"No." She sat back down. "Please, why can't I just tell the truth? Why
won't anyone believe me? Heyworth was the sweetest man. I'd never lift a
finger against him. He was my husband, and nobody understands that I
really loved him." She started crying softly. "I lost my husband. I saw him
dead, murdered..."

"I believe you, Brooke," Miles said. "I do. I was only trying to
prepare you for what I know will happen if you testify. You have to
understand that if you don't give more information about where you were
when your husband was murdered, I might be the only one who believes
you. And your inheritance will go to Chutney or one of his ex-wives."

"But why? I don't get it. His will left everything to me. I know. He
showed it to me. He cut his daughter out when he changed his will.
'Chutney will grow up,' he said, 'when she has to earn something.'"

"He didn't do it very well, Brooke. His will leaves his fortune to his
'most beautiful wife.' Not to Brooke Vandermark."

"He called me that!" Brooke exclaimed. "Oh, Christopher, he just

wrote it that way to make it sound more romantic."
 CHAPTER FOURTY-FIVE

In the courtroom, Sarah chatted nervously with Warner, glancing at

the crowd of ex-Mrs. Vandermarks who were sitting in chronological order
of their marriages, doing their best to avoid speaking to one another. Cari
and Michael walked in. She took her seat next to the other interns, and
Michael sat in the gallery among Stanford law students whom Judge Carol
Morgan had allowed to be present at the hearing and watch the proceeding
for educational purposes.

Fran was seated with John Matthews, and Sidney and his Star Trek
friend sat on either side of them. Claire and Ben sat together talking about
dinner, while A. Lawrence Hesterton was looking through the New York
Review of Books. Gramm Hallman and Drew Drexler, seated with Larry,
were discussing the case. Even Professor Gilbreath had arrived early to get
a better seat.

Elle looked at the crowd of spectators, thinking where Eugenia could

be. She found her seated closer to the front.

When Henry Kohn entered the courtroom, he walked confidently to

his table, opened a briefcase, and began taking out papers. Chutney
followed her lawyer and took her seat behind him. She looked nervous,
twisting her frizzy permed hair around her finger.

Chutney glanced at her mother sitting behind her. "Mother," she

greeted her.

"Please, call me Emerald. You look good, Chutney."

Elle took the empty seat at the end of the table right across from
Brooke, who looked pale, tired, and small.

After consulting with the lawyers, Judge Morgan pounded her gavel
to call the court to order.
 During a five-minute recess, as Chutney's mother and her lawyer were
leaving the courtroom, Elle came up to Christopher. "Sorry, I'm not sure I
get all this," Elle said to him.

Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. "Elle, please, can we have a tutorial
sometime later?" She turned to Warner and smiled, but he ignored her.

Frowning at Sarah, Christopher asked Elle, "What is it that you don't

understand?"

"Okay," Elle began. "The only question for today is..." She hesitated,
glancing at Christopher. He nodded. "The question is whether Brooke did it.
Whether she shot him. Right? And if the judge thinks she did, then she
throws the will out, right?"

"Right. If the judge finds that Brooke intentionally killed Heyworth."

"And if the judge believes Brooke, then we have to deal with the will.
Like, what it means that he left everything to his most beautiful wife, but
not exactly to Brooke, right?"

"Thanks for retelling it, Elle," Cari smirked.

"No, wait, that's not my question." Elle frowned. "Those women, the
ex-wives... which side are they on?"

"What do you mean - which side?"

"Well, do they get anything even though they're divorced?"

"Chutney's mother would," answered the lawyer, "by law. The other
wives, who didn't have any kids with Heyworth, probably wouldn't get
anything."

"So they're on Brooke's side, then," Elle concluded. "I mean, sort of."

"Well, if the will is valid, then they're out. Then we have to deal with
the words Heyworth used in his will." The lawyer sighed, frustrated. "If he
had just said 'wife,' that would mean Brooke, his wife at the time of his
death. But thanks to Heyworth's romantic description, we've got his ex-
wives who claim he meant them."
 CHAPTER FOURTY-SIX

The recess was over, and Judge Morgan's gavel called the court to
order again. Elle turned anxiously to look for Eugenia, who gave her
thumbs-up from the third row.

At first, the day didn't look good for Brooke, judging from the
testimony of Thom Romeo, Brooke's personal trainer, the first witness
called by Chutney's lawyer. Romeo described his regular house visits to the
Vandermarks' basement spa, where he trained Brooke and had recently
begun training Heyworth. When Henry Kohn asked him to describe
Heyworth's workouts, Romeo said, "Heyworth Vandermark told me Brooke
was going to kill him."

Later, during Christopher Miles's cross-examination, the full story

was revealed. Before Heyworth started training, the old man had agreed to
different body fat tests. One morning, while Heyworth was struggling with
fat-measuring devices, Brooke looked in to check on him. To show his
displeasure, Heyworth complained to Romeo that Brooke wanted to kill
him with the damn things. Miles tried to use the argument that Brooke had
encouraged tests and exercises to prolong her husband's life.

All people who worked for the Vandermarks showed dislike of

Brooke. After Romeo, Henry Kohn called Carmen Marisca, the cook who
had worked in the Vandermark home for twelve years before Brooke fired
her. She testified that Brooke tried to starve her husband to death with
vegetarian dishes. The mailman said Brooke picked up her own catalogs,
but left her husband's mail untouched, "as if he was already dead." Neither
the gardener, nor the florist had a kind word for Brooke. In most cases,
Judge Morgan sustained Christopher Miles's objection.

The vet who treated Chutney's cat, which was in Brooke's care during
the time she was married to Heyworth, was the last witness before Judge
Morgan ordered another recess.
 Elle met Warner alone in the hallway. "Elle, how's it going?" he asked
her.

"Well, terrible, if you're Brooke." She shrugged. "And the worst is yet
to come. Henry still has to call Chutney."

"Do you have a minute?" Warner pointed towards the witness room.
Elle nodded, following him curiously. He shut the door behind them.

"What is it, Warner?"

"Elle, I don't know, it's so weird to see you dressed in a suit like this...
and asking these legal questions... these basic questions."

Elle frowned. "What do you mean - 'basic'?"

"Elle, for God's sake! I don't know... are you even keeping up?"

"What do you mean, Warner? What about all that you said at dinner?
Remember how you were so impressed, seeing me in law school?"

"That had to do with me, not you. Elle, listen, this law school thing is
ridiculous for you. I mean, let's face it. Who are you trying to impress?
Women like Sarah - they go to law school. They belong in law school.
Come on, do you really see yourself as a lawyer?"

"Maybe." She looked at Warner with suspicion. "Why do you think I

came to law school?"

"Uh, maybe you came because I was here?" Warner laughed at his
own joke.

"I got the same internship as you, Warner Huntington," Elle said.
"And as your precious Sarah. What makes you think I'm not as serious?"

Warner smiled at Elle. "I have something to say to you."

"I'm not listening to you anymore." With that, Elle went back to the
courtroom.
 CHAPTER FOURTY-SEVEN

Henry Kohn walked into the courtroom. The only witnesses left were
Brooke and Chutney. "Your Honor," he began after Judge Morgan started
the hearing, "I call Brooke Vandermark to the stand."

Brooke sat glaring at Chutney.

"Brooke, tell the court where you were at about four in the afternoon,
when your husband was murdered."

Brooke glanced at Christopher. "I was out of the house. I was at a

meeting. And it's Mrs. Vandermark to you," she told the lawyer.

"Mrs. Vandermark, of course." Henry smiled. "What meeting, Mrs.

Vandermark, was that?"

"You know what meeting it was. I told you already." Christopher

Miles dropped his head into his hands.

Judge Morgan looked at Brooke. "When did you tell Mr. Kohn about
this meeting, Mrs. Vandermark? At your deposition?" the judge clarified.

Brooke turned around to face the judge. "Yeah, that."

"Please tell the court, Mrs. Vandermark, about this... meeting," Henry
Kohn continued.

Brooke sighed. "Okay, I was at my support group. Shopper Stoppers

Anonymous."

There was laughter in the courtroom.

"I understand, Mrs. Vandermark, that this group helped you with
some sort of shopping problem..."
 "Not a problem," Brooke corrected. "I was addicted to it, okay?"

"This addiction filled, then, an emotional void in your life? In your

marriage?"

"Objection, Your Honor." Christopher Miles rose from his chair.

"Sustained." Judge Morgan said. "What's the relevance of Brooke's...

addiction?"

"It could be a motive, Your Honor. Her addiction is evidence that her
marriage to Heyworth was not a happy one..."

"That's not true!" Brooke interrupted angrily. "Heyworth was

everything to me, and first I started to buy him things. But he didn't really
like them, so I was trying to find something he'd like better."

"I am not sure there is a connection between Mrs. Vandermark's

shopping addiction and her marriage. Objection sustained," the judge
announced.

"Well, then. Mrs. Vandermark," Henry continued, "one final question

about the meeting. Did you attend it... alone?"

"No," Brooke sighed. "The other group members were there too."

"Mrs. Vandermark, can any of them corroborate the fact that you
attended the meeting on that day?" Henry asked.

"They could," Brooke began angrily, "and they be here for me, I know
it. But I can't tell you who they are. It's an anonymous group. We all swore
to protect that."

"So I understand that you, Mrs. Vandermark, are the only person who
will testify that you attended this... anonymous meeting? Is that correct,
Mrs. Vandermark?"

Christopher did not even bother to object.

 "Yes," Brooke answered. "I'm the only one who will tell you that I
was gone from the house. There's no one here who will back me up. Okay?"
She glared at Henry Kohn.

"Are there any further questions, Mr. Kohn?" Judge Morgan asked.

"Just one, Your Honor." Henry Kohn turned to the witness. "Would
you please tell the court what your license plate reads, Mrs. Vandermark?"

"Objection, irrelevant." Christopher Miles stood up.

"Your Honor," Kohn told the judge. "Mrs. Vandermark will testify
that her license plate on her Mercedes, purchased only weeks after the death
of her husband, asks for new male companionship."

"You may proceed," Judge Morgan allowed.

"Mrs. Vandermark, what are the letters on your license plate, please?"

"California: I-S-O S-W-M."

"Would you please tell the court what those letters mean?"

"They mean 'in search of single white male."'

Henry Kohn raised one eyebrow. "So you are, now, after the tragic
death of your husband Heyworth Vandermark... looking for another man?"

Brooke stared coldly at Henry Kohn. "Yes, in fact I am. But I didn't
plan to be! I'm doing my best, Mr. Kohn, to put together a new life thanks
to some psycho who killed my husband." She glared at Chutney, who stared
at the floor. "And anyway, Heyworth would have wanted me to marry
again. All he ever wanted was for me to be happy." Brooke's shoulders
shook with a sob.

"Thank you, Mrs. Vandermark, I have no further questions," said the

lawyer. "Your witness," he told Christopher.
 "Your Honor," Christopher rose, "I'd like Mrs. Vandermark to
describe what she saw when she came home from her meeting."

"I'll tell you," Brooke nodded, wiping tears from her face. "Oh God, I
came home from my meeting, and the first thing I saw when I walked
through the door was Heyworth." She started crying again. "I... I didn't
know at first. I couldn't tell what had happened. I saw him lying on the
floor. I thought he might have had a stroke. When I got closer, I saw there
was blood everywhere, and I got down. I tried to shake him, but he didn't
move."

"Brooke," Christopher said, "I know this is hard. Please try to

remember. Can you tell the court if you saw anything, or anyone, else in the
room?"

"No, Heyworth was alone. He was white, his face was empty. His
eyes were open, but he was... he was not there. I think I sat there with him
for a while, I'm not sure. He must have been jogging! He was wearing his
trainers. Oh, poor thing, he was trying to stay in shape because I was so
much younger..."

"Brooke, please, try to remember what happened after you saw

Heyworth. I'd like you to tell the court what you did. What you saw.
Anything you remember," Christopher begged.

"I'll try," Brooke said weakly. "I guess I decided to call the police, so I
went to the kitchen, where the telephone is. Chutney was in the kitchen, and
she looked fine, you know, not crying or anything. She was at the sink,
washing her hands. I didn't know how to tell her." Brooke sobbed. "I... I
tried so hard to say something, but I was shaking. I was terrified."

"What did Chutney do then?" the lawyer asked.

"Chutney started yelling things at me, she ran out of the room, and I
don't know what happened. I fainted, I think, in the kitchen. The police
woke me up, and the next thing I knew I was handcuffed, and there were all
those people in my house..."
 "Thank you, Mrs. Vandermark," Christopher sighed. "I have no more
questions, Your Honor."

Judge Morgan's pounding gavel announced another recess.

CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT

Elle was staring at Chutney's frizzy hair as she took her seat in the
witness stand.

"Chutney, please describe to the court where you were on the day of
your father's death."

To corroborate Chutney's activities, Henry Kohn had called Philippe

LeBlanc, the head stylist at Frize of Beverly Hills. Philippe brought a page
from the salon's calendar, showing that Chutney had been scheduled to get a
permanent wave that morning. He had done her hair himself, and he
testified that Chutney acted perfectly normal.

Then Maxine Maximillian, of Max Fitness Center, testified that she

had spoken with Chutney at the gym in the afternoon at around 3:00 P.M.
when she had just finished teaching her aerobics class, which began at 1:00
P.M.

Chutney testified that she had returned home to an empty house after
working out. She went upstairs to take a shower and ran downstairs to grab
a drink from the kitchen. That was when she found Brooke, who was
shaking with fright, trying to move Heyworth's body. She surprised Brooke,
who probably hadn't heard her upstairs and who then fainted in the kitchen.
Chutney called the police while Brooke was unconscious. The police
arrived and arrested her in the kitchen.

When Christopher Miles began questioning the witness, at first he

asked Chutney to describe the house. "You were surprised, you said, Ms.
Vandermark, when you saw your father downstairs?" he asked next.

"Of course!" Chutney gasped. "For God's sake, my father was... he

was dead!"
 "So you didn't notice anything unusual, then, before you came
downstairs. And nobody was there when you got home," he continued.
"So... so it happened while you were upstairs."

He paused, looking for another question - for anything - to keep

Chutney on the stand.

Chutney glanced at her lawyer, who shrugged. Judge Morgan was

watching Christopher Miles. Elle touched her silky hair and thought that
she would never want it to be frizzy like Chutney's. Suddenly, she jumped
up.

"Wait!" Elle exclaimed.

Judge Morgan pounded her gavel. "Order. Order."

"Your Honor," Elle came up to the bench, "I'm an intern for Mrs.
Vandermark's defense team. May I ask Chutney a question?"

Judge Morgan, glancing at the student audience, decided to agree. She

wanted to publish an article in the Stanford Law Review. "Mr. Miles?" she
asked Christopher.

Elle looked at him and raised her eyebrows, like a child asking for a
present on Christmas Eve.

All is lost already anyway, the lawyer thought. "A fine idea, Miss
Woods," he smiled. Sarah gasped in horror.

"Your Honor," Elle nodded seriously, "it's relevant, I promise." She

turned to Chutney, who grinned. "It's about your hair," Elle began. "It looks
nice."

"Thanks." Chutney stared at Elle with curiosity.

"Did you just get a perm?"

"Yeah, before the trial. Philippe did it." Chutney pointed to Philippe,
who nodded.
 "He did your hair during college too, didn't he?" Elle asked.

"Oh, yes," Chutney answered, "he has permed my hair since the first
time I went with Emerald." Chutney's mother nodded proudly from her seat.
"I never do anything to my hair unless he tells me it is okay. He's totally
professional."

"And you've had..." Elle wondered aloud, "how many perms?"

"Well, one every six months since I was about ten. That's like twenty
at least."

"And you got a perm the day that Heyworth... your father was
murdered," Elle said, thoughtfully.

"Yes," Chutney answered. "As I had already said, I was at Frize."

"But your father was shot a little later, after you got home," Elle
continued, with her back turned to Chutney.

Sarah frowned. "Do we need to go through this until Elle gets it

straight?" she whispered to Warner.

Elle turned around and came up to the witness stand with her hands
on her hips. "But you didn't hear anything, not even a gunshot."

"Yes. For God's sake, I told you. I was in the shower. I worked out
after I left Frize, and when I got home, I took a shower. I'm sure I didn't
hear anything, any shot, because I was washing my hair. I wash it every
day." Chutney glared at Elle.

Elle walked towards the court gallery, smiling. "Chutney, veteran of

twenty perms, graduate of hair management," she turned to face the
witness, "it is absolutely elementary, absolutely the first rule of hair care,
that you can't wash your hair for twenty-four hours after a perm."

Chutney gasped, raising her hand to cover her open mouth.

"Is that not a fact?" Elle demanded. "Chutney?"

 "Yes," Chutney whispered, beginning to cry. "You have to wait
twenty-four hours."

"And you were washing your hair!" Elle asked the witness. "Three
hours after you walked out of Frize?"

"No!" Chutney cried.

Henry Kohn jumped up from his chair, objecting.

"You would never wash your hair right after getting a perm, would
you, Chutney?" Elle said, not listening to Henry Kohn's furious shouts.

Judge Morgan pounded her gavel. "Let her answer the question, Mr.
Kohn."

"No, no, no," Chutney sobbed, "never! I wasn't in the shower, of

course not!"

"You lied then, Chutney." Elle folded her arms, staring at the witness.
"Tell the court again where you were when your father was shot."

Chutney turned in her chair, pointing at Brooke. "She is younger than

I am!" she shrieked. "She was in my class, and she married my father!"

Henry Kohn still tried to silence Chutney.

"You stole my father! You ruined him! You ruined my life!" Chutney
yelled at Brooke. "I didn't mean to shoot him! I meant to shoot you!"
 CHAPTER FOURTY-NINE

When it was over, Eugenia hurried to give Elle a hug. Brooke, too -
rich, free, and happy - grabbed Elle's hand like a child. "Group hug!" she
cried.

"Meet Eu-genius," Elle introduced her friend to Brooke, "the smartest

girl in Stanford Law School. I wouldn't have made it here without her."

"You're the smartest girl in law school!" Eugenia said.

Elle smiled. "Not bad for a Barbie doll, right?" she said.

"Ken should be proud," Eugenia replied, pointing at Warner who was

talking to Sarah at the lawyers' table.

"Forget about Ken, Genie," Elle said, lowering her voice. Eugenia and
Brooke looked at her, confused. "I'll tell you later," Elle promised. She
packed her pad and the witness books while Brooke went to thank her
"other lawyer Christopher."

"I'll go get the car, Elle," said Eugenia. "Time to party!"

Elle glanced around the room and agreed. "I'll meet you outside."

She went to look for Christopher Miles. She found him in the hallway,
where Christopher stood surrounded by reporters. He saw Elle and pulled
her to his side. "Here," he said, "is the real star! I'm so proud of her!
Thanks, Elle."

At the door of the courthouse Elle saw Warner, standing alone. "I
guess you need to go," Christopher said, and gave Elle a wink.

"Elle!" Warner wanted to hug her, but Elle walked through the door,
past him. She noticed Sarah, standing at the doorway with her arms crossed.
"Elle, stop, please," Warner cried as he ran behind her. She turned to face
him. "God, let a man admit his mistake! I was wrong. I underestimated you,
Elle." Elle came closer to Warner. "How's that, Warner?"

"Elle, come on, you know. I thought I'd have to marry Sarah, because
she... she had the brains and everything. You know my family. I mean, I
wanted to be with you, really, but everyone... everyone thought you were so
silly." Warner laughed together with Elle. "Oh, Elle, you act like a bimbo.
You should've heard what people say about you at law school!"

Confident that he had won her back, he put his arm around her
shoulder. "I'm so glad they're wrong! You showed everybody! I'm so glad I
can be with you again now." Warner pulled Elle close to him.

"You want me back, Warner?" Elle looked at her old love, trying not
to laugh.

"Elle, yeah, I'll leave Sarah," he said. "I don't need her anymore. You
are smart! Christopher knows my father, and with his recommendations, my
family will have to love you! You've got the brains and the body. Thank
God! Why did it take me so long to see that? The only woman who really
knows me."

Elle saw Sarah glaring furiously at Warner, and for the first time
thought, she and Sarah might have something in common. "Warner, I do
know you now. I didn't know you at all before," she said coolly, pushing his
hand off her shoulder.

His stared at her, confused.

"No, Warner. I didn't know you," Elle added. "I loved some image
that you never really were. It's not your fault. That had to do with me, not
you."

"But, Elle, we spent so many years together," he protested. "You'll

never find anyone like me again, Elle!"

"I certainly hope not!" Elle answered with a smile. "Goodbye, Warner.
I'll see you around."
 Eugenia drove Elle and Brooke back to the office of Miles and
Slocum, where Elle left the witness books. After waiting for Christopher
Miles for some time there, Elle decided to leave.

In an hour, the three friends were sitting around the table in Elle's
condo, drinking pink champagne and laughing.

Brooke gave the first toast and promised to finance the Blonde Legal
Defense Fund with her Vandermark money.

Then Eugenia raised her glass. "To our Ken-free Barbie!"

"To Barbie," Brooke corrected her, "forever in pink!"

"Okay," Elle finally said, "my turn. To underdogs!"

The three girls laughed and raised their glasses.

 CHAPTER FIFTY

The next morning there was a knock at Elle's door. Thinking that it
was Eugenia or Brooke who must've left something in her condo last night,
Elle opened it.

She froze, gasping in disbelief. Before her stood Sarah Knottingham,

dressed up, smiling, blushing, and nervously touching her newly styled and
highlighted hair.

"Oh - my - God," Elle said slowly, leaning against the wall. She stared
without speaking, and Sarah laughed.

"Does it look that bad?" she asked Elle.

"Sarah, you're... you're..."

"Can I come in?" Sarah asked. Elle nodded. "I skipped a class and
went to the beauty salon. It worked okay for you. Manicured and winning in
court - I figured out your secret."

Elle stared at her visitor's beautiful nail polish on her empty left hand.

Sarah noticed it. "I gave the ring back," she shrugged. "Now Warner
has two ex-girlfriends. What do you think of that?"

Elle smiled. "I've finally quit thinking about Warner," she said,
shaking her head as if waking up from a dream. "Anyway, I think your hair
looks so much better. I can't believe you even got a few highlights!"

Sarah handed Elle a folder. "Here's my Property outline," she said.

"Can you share answers for the Wills final with me?"

"Of course," Elle smiled. "After all, you're blonde at heart now."

"Truly blonde," Sarah laughed, remembering Elle's essay.

"Legally," said Elle.

- THE END -

Hope you have enjoyed the reading!