“Okay, you’ve already sold the Palm Beach house and removed your belongings, closing in a few days. Let’s get that one off your map, along with Santa Fe. They’ll know about the Fairleigh, but you have hotel staff there to run them off.”

“Right.”

“Theresa, I’ll explain you as my daughter. Stick to that story, deflect questions to me or Laurence. You’re a civilian, and you don’t want to talk about your personal life, got it? Keep it polite, but cool.”

“Suits me fine,” Theresa said. “Where do I live?”

“New Jersey. The New York media don’t like going to New Jersey, and the L.A. media don’t know where it is, except that Tony Soprano lives there.” She checked her watch. “Okay, Theresa, you’d better scatter the food around where they can find it. Don’t serve them. Put a selection of booze on the bar with an ice bucket and some mixers and a bottle of white wine. Let them do the pouring, you can disinfect later.”

Theresa went to do Faith’s bidding and Laurence was taken by Betty to the dining room table, where she opened her makeup case. “You had longer hair before, right?”

“A little longer. I had it cut nearly a month ago and not since.”

“I’ll put in a few extensions and trim them, then I’ll give you a new haircut before I leave.”

“Okay.”

She took a fulsome beard from her case and painted some adhesive on his face.

“My beard wasn’t nearly this long.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll mow it back until you like it.”

“Is all this going to look real?”

“It will when I’m done. You could do movie close-ups and nobody would know.” She glued the beard firmly in place, then she spread a barber’s cloth over him and inserted the hair extensions, combed and trimmed them. Most of the beard ended up in Laurence’s lap.

“Now,” Betty said, “I’m going to make you look older and dissolute. We want a lot of contrast between old Laurence and new Laurence.” She painted a liquid under his eyes and on the end of his nose. “Scrunch up your eyes.” He did so, and she dried it with a hair dryer. When she was done, she brushed off the excess hair and took the cloth outside to shake it out.

Faith came and had a close look. “Betty,” she said, “this is fucking wonderful. I imagine something, and you make it happen!”

Laurence had a close look at himself in the dining room mirror. “I look ten years older,” he said.