“You know Pippa Rose is going to cover this place with awful porcelain English pugs. Judy’s better off sticking with French Empire, or going Ottoman all the way,” Samantha whispered to Charlie as they walked into the living room. “I really should get Jil to suggest someone better than Pippa to her.”

“Why? She seems perfectly happy.” Charlie helped himself to a drink from a passing tray.

“I feel protective of her. She makes such an enormous effort.”

A waiter in a black formal uniform offered a tray of foie gras on mint pita with pomegranate molasses.

“I just can’t find any sympathy for a woman who has color-coordinated her furniture with her Degas.” Charlie passed on the hors d’oeuvres.

“What’s with you tonight, Charlie?” Samantha asked.

Jil waved at them from across the floor. Frankie followed beside him.

“What do you think of the Turkusion?” Jil asked Samantha. “Oh, if these Empire chaises could talk!”

“Nice to see you, Jil. Lovely to see you, Frankie.” Samantha gave them both a double kiss.

“Hello, Francesca.” Charlie took Frankie’s hand.

“Traditional cured bonito with leeks and saffron pesto?” A waiter smiled at Jil.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Jil took the small morsel. “Do you know Judy flew in the chef from Changa tonight. It must have cost a fortune.”

“What’s Changa?” Charlie asked.

“Best fusion restaurant in Istanbul. I stopped there last time on my way to visit the Erteguns.”

Samantha took Jil’s arm. “Oh Jil, you’re so cosmopolitan. Frankie, how do you keep up with him? I know I couldn’t.”

“And you can’t fault Miss Judy for her guest list,” Jil continued. “It’s a perfect blend. A little media, a little arts, a little social, a little décor, and even a little trash. And there’s Dr. Arnie, everybody’s favorite provider of antidepressants for three-year-olds.”

“Actually, his specialty is adolescent male medicine,” Charlie corrected him.

“Oh Charlie, don’t protect him just because he’s a doctor,” Samantha chided him.

“Why did everyone come to this party, do you think?” Charlie asked.

“For the hummus?” Frankie whispered.

“Oh come on, Charlie.” Jil rolled his eyes. “They came because they heard everyone else was coming. It even worked that way at Erasmus Hall—”

“I think you’re all very mean,” Samantha said. “Judy has spunk.”

“She just wants to be you, dear.”

“Jil, you’re a terrible snob.” Samantha gave him a playful shove.

“Of course I am, darling. I’m an arriviste.” He smiled at her. “On the other hand, you’re the last breath of the American elite, so you can afford to exhibit noblesse oblige.”

“Jil, this is a ridiculous conversation. No one even thinks this way anymore except for you.”

“All right, let’s ask our medical staff.” He looked at Frankie and Charlie. “Do you think most of the women in this room envy Samantha?”

“Do you mean, they all wish they were married to me?” Charlie smiled.

“No, do they all wish they could have the taste Samantha has in her pinkie.” He continued, “When I was in high school, I compulsively used a book called The Elements of Style by Strunk and White so I could learn where to put a comma like an elegant American. After all, I was just an immigrant boy from Hungary. I bet these girls all wish Samantha would codify the do’s and don’t’s of genuine style just so they could follow it, too.”