At 11:45 Clarice examined herself in the mirror. For a forty-two-year-old woman she could pass for someone at least ten years younger. She was still a size 4, her auburn hair was gleaming, and her skin maintained a fresh and glowing quality. She looked no different from any of the other Upper East Side mothers, except she was now the one everyone else was talking about. Recently, she wondered if her life would have been happier if she had married a bright boy from Wharton who would have become a partner in her father’s supermarket chain. She could have lived closer to her parents and spent the weekends with couples like herself at the country club. Her children would still have gone to private schools, Friends Seminary or Bryn Mawr Country Day, but the pressure to always be the best might have been less intense. Clarice never told Barry, but she wouldn’t have minded if both girls had become cheerleaders.

This was not the first time Clarice played the what-if game with herself. Usually she would stop on the thought that if she lived in the suburbs she would never have been married to a man as exciting or important as Barry. But today on her way to the ladies’ lunch she wished with all her heart that Barry had taken better care of her. She also wished that she could end her love for him.

Clarice had told no one about her current living conditions, and taking one last glance at her outfit before heading to the luncheon at Le Cirque, she promised herself she wouldn’t say a thing about it today either.

“Every Tom, Dick, and Harry who can’t get their kids into Spence or Trinity is starting their own school in Connecticut or the Hamptons now.” Adrienne Strong-Rodman sipped a white wine spritzer and chatted breathlessly to Clarice, Pippa, and Judy. “At least I’m passionate about education. But the headmaster I hired was a total lush, plus he fell in love with Grey Navez’s sister, who is richer than Croesus, so he doesn’t need to run a school anymore. So my plan is temporarily on hold.”

“Well, at least now you’ve got your summer back,” Judy offered.

“Yes, I know. We were supposed to go to Saint-Tropez for June but Paul might not be able to leave the country.”

“Why not?” Judy’s nose for news was poised.

“He has some business here.” Adrienne reached for a roll.

Pippa had heard rumors from her husband that Paul Rodman was about to be indicted for embezzling over $400 million.

“Oh it would be so sad to miss Saint-Tropez. I happen to love Cap-Ferrat,” Judy offered as a revelation. “Of course, everyone says the place to rent a house is Marrakech.”