Judy was so happy drinks were going well that she allowed herself another sip of champagne. “Yumbo!” she screeched as she downed half of a cocktail shrimp.

Samantha was relieved the cocktail hour took very little work. Albert was sweet and Judy mostly name-dropped people whom Samantha found completely pedestrian. To entertain herself as Judy chattered on, Samantha tried to imagine the Tremonts’ sex life. She decided either they read in separate beds, him The Song of Norway in Old Norse and her Palm Beach Life, or she had a shocking pink rubber suit with a matching pink lasso and whipped him nightly.

“We flew down with the Rodmans.” Judy was in high gear. “I have to say that with a family it doesn’t make sense to go commercial anymore.”

“Even without a family,” Charlie added to keep things rolling.

“Well, dear, I can see where this is going.” Albert nodded lovingly.

“Honey, I think we should just go for it.” Judy took Albert’s knee. She had been dying for Albert to buy a share in a private plane for years and she saw this as her opportunity to clinch the deal. “Next year maybe you guys will fly down with us someplace wonderful like St. Barths or Nevis.”

Albert shook his head. “Absolutely. Next year we won’t have to settle for Palm Beach or, for that matter, bother the Rodmans.”

“What’s Paul Rodman like? I’ve never met him,” Samantha asked.

“You’ve never met Paul Rodman? I can’t believe that!” Judy thought Samantha knew and did everything.

“I know he wanted to live in our building and offered to pay thirty for a twenty-million-dollar apartment, but the co-op board rejected him. Someone had it in for Adrienne.”

“Really?” Judy was delighted to have this tidbit of information. “Well, now they live in that building on Fifth with the endangered bird’s nest on top.”

“You mean the red-tailed hawk?” Albert perked up. “Sometimes I take the girls to watch it from the park.”

“I didn’t know the hawk and the Rodmans moved into the same building.” Samantha mused. “I sort of wish they did live in our building. I hear that their parties are memorable.”

“No one throws better parties than you do, dear.” Charlie took her hand.

“I’m sure that’s true.” Judy’s sigh was an understatement. She was falling a little bit in love with Samantha. It was that kind of overwhelming whoosh when you can’t believe the glorious person across from you could possibly do anything that wasn’t touched by God.

“I heard that the reenactment of the Odyssey on Paul Rodman’s yacht last year was the most obscenely extravagant evening ever.” Samantha repeated what friends like Jil said about Rodman. “Wasn’t it a two-million-dollar tab?”

“Two million two,” Judy chirped. “But the thing is no matter how much money Adrienne Strong-Rodman spends, it can’t come close to what you do because you have style in your fingertips. In my mind, Samantha, you’re an artist.”

“Oh, I really wouldn’t say that I’m an artist.” Samantha put her head down, almost embarrassed. “Did you see Alex Katz’s small paintings exhibit at the Whitney last month? He’s an artist.”