From her years of throwing birthday parties and attending movie events with her husband, Clarice knew that the secret to any success was getting the right people to do it. She used to be in awe of women like Samantha Acton because they had such an innate sense of style and organization. But when Barry moved out Clarice decided she would teach herself what every other successful Upper East Side woman seemed to instantly know—the best people to hire, from closet organizers and calligraphers to events coordinators.

When Judy Tremont took Clarice to tea at the Colony Club and asked her to be on the benefit committee of the Museum of Modern Art spring gala, she was at first hesitant.

“I’m not sure what I could do.” Clarice smiled. She had never even listed herself on an invitation as Clarice Santorini. She was always “Mrs. Barry Santorini.”

“You can do as much or as little as you want. You can just write a check and buy a few tables or you can get more involved in planning this event.”

“I see.” Clarice was noncommittal.

“Look, as your friend I gotta tell you something,” Judy whispered. “You’re really hot now because your husband left you for one of the most famous women in New York. Everyone’s sympathy is with you and you’re crazy if you don’t make the most of it.”

“I appreciate your candor.” Clarice had a habit of escaping embarrassing conversations by lapsing into formality. It was a defense she had mastered when she worked in sales at Armani. “If we do it, can we get Umit Afet to help us with the look of the evening? I remember that Turkish-English dinner party was so inventive.”

“Are you kidding? She’s suing Albert because I refused to let him pay her last bill. Umit says everything is about balance and meanwhile flowers are half dead and who knows where that filthy hookah has been.”

“I’ll do some research about other event coordinators.” Clarice took a tea sandwich and offered one to Judy.

“But the museum has development people for that.”

“I’d enjoy it. It will give me something to sink my teeth into.”

“That means you’re saying yes.” Judy passed Clarice back the untouched plate.

“I think so. Yes,” Clarice spilled.

“Oh, by the way.” Judy flipped her hand in a there’s-just-a-little-item-more gesture. “We can definitely take Adrienne Strong-Rodman off the benefit committee. It looks like Paul’s definitely going to trial and probably jail. Plus her daughter Jessica was caught selling marijuana to a Nightingale-Bamford sixth grader at a Colony Club dance.”

“Right here? That’s terrible.” Clarice knew about the Rodmans’ financial picture, but the news of the daughter hadn’t reached her yet.