“Come on, Alicia.” Suze glares at Danny again. “Let’s sit down.”

As I’m wondering whether to follow them or just hide out by the muffins, I see Elinor approaching. She seems a lot better, which is either down to the fruit salad she’s been nibbling or because of her impending custom-made Danny Kovitz Classic wardrobe (I still can’t wait to see her in that coat).

“Would you like a muffin?” I venture politely, and she shoots a disdainful look at them.

“I hardly think so.” She glances over at Suze and Alicia. “What was Luke saying about Wilton Merrelle?”

“One of his employees is planning to open a rival center and steal all his customers. Why? Do you know him?”

“He’s an atrocious man,” says Elinor crisply, and I try not to beam in delight. A bit of bitching about Wilton Merrelle is just what I’m in the mood for.

“Why?” I repeat encouragingly. “You can tell me. I’m really discreet.”

“He practically forced a friend of mine out of her Park Avenue condominium.”

“How did he do that?” I ask, agog.

“He bought the apartment next door and pestered and pestered. Poor Anne-Marie was quite beleaguered. She felt she had no choice but to sell to him.”

“Poor woman!” I say in sympathy. “So, what happened to her?”

“She was forced to spend more time on her estate in the Hamptons,” says Elinor, without blinking.

OK, Elinor needs to work on her sob stories a little. But even so, it feels cozy, sharing a common enemy with her.

“Well, Alicia’s just as bad as Wilton,” I say. “Worse.” I’m about to launch into a whole list of Alicia’s dastardly deeds, when I see Elinor picking up a grape on a cocktail stick and looking at it curiously.

“This is a particularly minimalist canapé,” she observes.

“It’s not a canapé, it’s for the chocolate fountain.” I point. “See?”

Elinor peers at the gushing chocolate as though she’s none the wiser. I take the grape from her, dip it in the chocolate, let it cool slightly, and hand it to her.

“Ah.” Her brow clears. “I am reminded of the fondues one sees in Gstaad.”

“You’ve never dipped anything in a chocolate fountain before?”

“Naturally not,” she confirms with a supercilious air.

I love it. First-ever hangover. First-ever chocolate fountain. What else is there in the list of Elinor Sherman’s firsts?

“Elinor,” I say in sudden inspiration. “Have you ever worn a pair of blue jeans before?”

“Never,” responds Elinor, looking slightly revolted.

That’s it. I have her Christmas present. Dark-blue skinnies by J Brand.

Unless…do I dare give her ripped jeans?

The thought of Elinor unwrapping a pair of ripped jeans on Christmas Day cheers me up so much, I’m still smiling as I return to the table. But I hastily stop as I see Suze’s pained expression.

“I have to get Tarkie away from Bryce,” she’s saying fervently. “He’ll be trying to fleece him for millions.”

“If not more,” says Alicia darkly, and jabs at her phone yet again.