They reached the elevator to the penthouse suite. Yoram, her bodyguard, hung behind, scanning their surroundings. A former Israeli commando officer, he had been hired by the insurance company that had issued the half-a-billion-dollar policy on Nola for this trip. He jumped into the elevator just before the doors closed.

“Hand it to one of the maids,” Wade told Leslie. He snapped his fingers. “Chop chop. We’ve got to go down to the ballroom in ten minutes.”

Nola wished they would all just disappear so she could be alone with the baby. She rocked and sang to the infant, calming her, while Roberta bombarded the air.

“I’ll grant an exclusive photo session to People magazine and reserve the personal interview with Nola for Good Morning America. What do you think, Wade? It will be broadcast live by satellite, right here from Beijing. And that Vanity Fair story we’ve been working on? Wow. We can still make the editorial deadline even if it’s been put to bed. As we speak, they’re processing tonight’s photograph of Nola on stage for the cover. Nola, it was a good idea to make a national secret of your dress design. Right? Right. What time is it in New York? Twelve hours’ difference? Right now, Eddie at People is watching CNN and salivating at her desk. Come to think of it, I should call Oprah. It’s time she brought Nola on her show. You’ve been too much of a Little Red Riding Hood, but minus the wolf waiting for you on your way to Grandma’s. No drama. Refusing to spill any childhood trauma. Now we’ve got a twist! What do you think of the headline ‘Woman Unexpectedly Thrust Into Motherhood?’ Nah. Something shorter. How about ‘The Accidental Mother?’ ”

“This is hardly a case of ‘motherhood,’ ” Wade grunted. “More like keeping a puppy when a friend’s away, and it will be over very—very—soon, when the Chinese take it back.”

“Uh-uh. Motherhood is in. At thirty-one, Nola's the right age. The perfect New-Age thing.” Almost the girth of both Nola and Wade put together, Roberta grinned down at them and started panting. “I’m having an orgasm. We can get into Good Housekeeping. Let’s give it a couple of months so Nola can decorate the nursery, concoct some baby-food recipes, what have you, then we’ll schedule the cover story. Let’s see, their lead time is three months.” Her breathing grew harder. “Fab-uu-lous. That’ll take us to late spring. Renewal, sunshine. Perfect timing.”

Within the elevator’s confines, Nola pressed against the wall, trying to envelope herself again in the bubble of happiness. Shut up! she wanted to shout. “Please let me concentrate,” she said.

“I’m coming!” Roberta emitted a series of escalating groans. “Oh, it’s so good—”