“Maybe it’s not a bad idea for me to take time off to get my personal affairs in order,” she said, weighing it all as she spoke: Wade, Daniel, Lulu, against the urgency of babies dying in China right that moment.

“You’ve just touched the height of your career. It’s not a good idea to be thrown out of circulation. Six weeks can feel like six months to the minds and ears of listeners,” Keith said. “We’ll hire a PR agency specializing in corporate relations to put pressure on BRW’s board. The next meeting is coming up in a week. There’s no reason shareholders would forgo the enormous profits you generate, especially following—or in the aftermath of—the China tour, in order to support Mauriello’s little snit.”

“He will convince them it’s worth destroying me from a corporate synergy point of view,” she said. “According to him, appeasing the Chinese will create huge marketing opportunities for other segments of the BRW empire—the fast-food chain, the theme parks and projects involving StarVision. And there are intangible political benefits—Mauriello’s credibility, for one—which I have botched.”

“We need a decisive end game to this drama,” Keith said.

“Good,” she said. “I want to become the voice of China’s murdered babies. More than shareholders’ board and courts, I need to marshal grassroots support. That’s where my power is. There’s a wave of sympathy for me and Lulu, and it can reinforce my standing against BRW—and against a government that deserts its most needy citizens.” She indicated that she wanted to use his cell phone. “Let’s see what Roberta can cook up this time.”

“I’m in a cab and stuck in traffic next to MOMA and there’s a bunch of religious fanatics blocking the street because of this art exhibition defiling Jesus,” Roberta reported. Nola heard chanting and blaring horns. “What a delicious idea: to burn in hell for taking a lookie-look at a doodoo-covered Son of God.”

“Listen. Phonomania will not record ‘Flower Babies’ any time soon—or release its license to another distributor. Something about Mauriello being pissed off at me.”

Nola barely finished her sentence when a deep groan broke at the other end. For a split second she was afraid Roberta was being attacked by a zealot who recognized her, then a series of guttural sounds revealed she was having one of her fake orgasms. “An encore. Ahhhh. I’m coming. Ah, ah, ahhhhh.”

Moans bred grunts and a scream. A yell from what sounded like an enraged Arab taxi driver. Roberta’s hearty laughter. An exchange punctuated by a flood of curses. A door slammed.

“Roberta, are you still there? In one piece?” Next to Nola, Keith shook with laughter.