‘Mommy? Mommy?’ Miriam tried to gauge the desperation in Maisie’s voice, half-heartedly praying her daughter would miraculously forget what she wanted and go to sleep, which of course was ridiculous. ‘MOMMY!’
Miriam took a deep breath and reminded herself to be patient. The child was only five. Bedtime delay tactics were a fact of life. ‘Yes, sweetie?’ she asked, opening Maisie’s door ever so slightly and peeking her head in.
‘I need you.’
‘I’m right here, love. What can I do?’
‘Come here.’
‘Sweetie, we read three books and sang two songs. You have water. We found your mermaid PJs in the hamper and changed into them. I took the scary Gruffalo off your shelf and checked under your bed for foxes. It’s time to sleep now.’
‘I want a cuddle,’ Maisie cooed in her sweetest voice. The child was no dummy – she’d learned long ago that it was the one thing to which Miriam would never say no.
How many years more would her girl beg her to snuggle? She climbed under Maisie’s covers and pulled her daughter’s warm little body in to her own. So she wouldn’t have time to put on makeup for the Moms’ Night Out? Big deal. She inhaled her daughter’s still-damp hair and smiled. She gave her daughter one final kiss and a murmured ‘I love you’ and then was able to tiptoe out of the room and close the door without further protestation. Maybe she’d have time to do her makeup after all.
Her phone bleated with a text from Ashley saying she was in the driveway.
‘Dammit.’ Miriam caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror: not great. She’d managed to dig out a clean enough turtleneck sweater in a nice shade of light blue, but the leggings were pilled, and her effort at a chic messy bun had resulted in a ratty-looking topknot. She still hadn’t figured out what she was supposed to wear around town.
Whatever, she thought. This wasn’t some gala. It was a Thursday night in the suburbs, and all the invited guests were women. Ashley had been vague about the theme of the get-together, but she’d insisted it would be lively and there would be plenty of wine and lots of nice women. Who was Miriam to say no when she barely knew anyone in town? It would be fun.
‘Hey, sorry to keep you waiting. Maisie was clingy tonight,’ Miriam said, hearing her own breathlessness as she pulled the passenger door shut. ‘Thanks for picking me up.’
‘Of course, honey! Look at you – so cute!’ Ashley cooed. She was also wearing a turtleneck sweater, but hers was camel-colored and looked like it was spun from the eyelashes of baby lambs. She had paired it with tight white jeans, the most delicate diamond pavé jewelry, and a pair of gorgeous black leather boots. Her blond hair looked professionally blown out. She even smelled delicious. Everything about her just glowed.
‘How do you get your hair like that?’ Miriam asked, touching her own bun. She’d recently gone to a guy in the city who was renowned for cutting kinky, curly hair – he styled without wetting it and called it ‘The Diva Cut’ – but it had looked fantastic only thirty-six hours before all signs of diva-ness had exploded back into a frizzy disaster.
‘Oh, this? Please. I haven’t washed it in a week. I go through so much dry shampoo, I can’t even tell you. Lucy told me the other night that it smells.’
Miriam laughed. ‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, I found a drawing of me in Matthew’s folder from school. When I asked him to tell me about it, he took great pride in pointing out the three deep lines running horizontally along my forehead and the shading under my eyes. “Like when you’re really tired, Mommy,” I think was what he said.’
‘Classic.’ Ashley laughed.
‘So, who’s going tonight? I brought a bottle of Malbec, but I wasn’t sure what else …’
‘No, no, that’s perfect! Just a fun group. We’ll do some drinking and a little shopping. You’ll love everyone.’
A little shopping. There it was. Miriam smiled to herself as Ashley weaved through the dark, winding roads. She should have known – she’d heard all about these events in the suburbs: all-female ‘parties’ where the hosts provided wine and nibbles and then, in a feigned-relaxed but actually hyper-aggressive way, tried to sell you whatever product she was now a ‘stylist’ or ‘consultant’ for. Ashley once told Miriam she had bought everything from stackable bangles to workout wear to wrinkle cream at events that were initially presented as book club meetings or Girls’ Nights Out.
When they arrived at their hostess’s home, all the women were gathered in the family room, sipping and chatting in front of a gorgeous fire. Miriam recognized a few from the baby shower and a few more from the kids’ school, but mostly they were strangers: beautiful, confident, coiffed strangers.
‘Hey, everyone! Some of you might know her, but for those who don’t, this is Miriam Kagan. She has the cutest twins in kindergarten, Maisie and Matthew, and also Benjamin in second grade. They just moved here from the city.’
Miriam could feel the heat rise from her neck to her cheeks. She desperately wanted to disappear. After over a decade knowing exactly where she fit in city life, she was finding this harder than she would have thought. But all the women smiled kindly at her and gave little waves and then went right back to their conversations. Almost immediately, Ashley vanished, and Miriam found herself standing awkwardly alone in the kitchen. She helped herself to a glass from an open bottle of merlot. Then, unsure what to do next, she popped a small chunk of Parmesan into her mouth and looked around.
The home was spectacular, of course. Vaulted ceilings, a double-high fireplace, enough fur throw blankets and accent pillows to open a boutique. The rug under the live-edge coffee table was made from animal hides, all shades of gray and white and carefully stitched together to create a kind of modern floor quilt that stood out starkly against the trendy gray-washed wood floors. Diptyque candles burned everywhere. Low, sexy music played from invisible speakers. Women with long hair and long legs floated between the rooms, kissing each other’s cheeks and inquiring after each other’s children, workout regimens, and vacation plans.
‘You’re Miriam, right?’ An elegant woman with a jet-black bob and porcelain skin offered her a smile. ‘I’m Claire. I’m so glad you could make it tonight.’
‘Claire? Oh, this is your home, right? It’s gorgeous, I was admiring your taste. I love everything.’
Claire’s smile widened. ‘Thank you, darling. So, Ashley said you have three little ones, all in elementary school?’
Miriam nodded.
‘And you stay home with them?’
Miriam opened her mouth and then closed it again. ‘Yes, I do. I haven’t always, but it’s been really great having these last few months to—’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Claire interrupted. ‘Hey, maybe you want to join me on the board of Opus? It’s not an enormous financial requirement – although all the money does so much good – and we put on great events. Plus, the funds raised make such a stunning difference in the lives of children who live so nearby yet suffer so much.’
‘Hmm, that sounds so interesting,’ Miriam murmured. It did – who didn’t want to help children? – but she wasn’t clear on what Claire was suggesting.
‘Hello, girls,’ Ashley trilled as she approached and refilled her glass. ‘I’m glad you two have met. Claire, it’s been so great having Miriam as co-room mom with me. I just knew you two would love each other.’
‘You were right, of course!’ Miriam said, perhaps a bit too loudly.
A brief moment of awkwardness followed before Ashley leaned in and stage-whispered to Claire, ‘You look amazing. I can’t even believe you’re only a month out.’
Miriam pretended not to hear, but Claire looked at her and said, ‘I got the full mommy job a few weeks ago: boobs, belly and vagina. It was torturous but definitely worth it.’ She gently ran a hand over her concave stomach. ‘I’ve had so much sodium today and I should be getting my period momentarily, and look: flat as a board.’
Ashley gazed at Claire’s midriff. ‘I so regret not doing my stomach when I did the boobs. And not to do the vag! I wasn’t thinking. What, just because I had three C-sections didn’t guarantee my entire pelvic floor wouldn’t get demo’d. Tampons fall out when I do jumping jacks.’
‘I hear you.’ Claire nodded. ‘Sex was like throwing a hot dog down a hallway. I didn’t care so much, but my God, Eddie could not stop bitching about it. I mean, like, two perfect children aren’t enough, now he wants me tight as a teenager?’
‘Of course he does. They all do. And he got what he wanted!’
Claire feigned embarrassment. ‘He sure did.’
Miriam laughed along with everyone, but inside she felt a stab of panic. Was that why Paul had seemed so uninterested lately? She’d had a vaginal delivery with Ben and then a C-section with the twins. She didn’t outright wet herself when she laughed or sneezed or jumped – wasn’t that enough? Or was she missing something crucial?
Claire glanced at her watch and gasped. ‘Oh my, nearly eight-thirty.’ Then, in a louder voice to the crowd: ‘Ladies? Join me in the living room?’
The doorbell rang before they could all take a seat. Someone gave a little squeal. Miriam wondered who could be so exciting. Maybe someone famous? She’d heard a rumor that Blake Lively had moved to town, but nobody seemed to know for sure. She’d overheard someone mention that Karolina, the senator’s wife, was hiding out in Greenwich, but thankfully the subject had changed almost immediately.
When a woman appeared at the door, Miriam recognized her as one of the moms from Ben’s second-grade class. She had a little girl, if she remembered, with fiery red hair and what Miriam’s mother would definitely call a ‘fresh mouth.’ Sage. That was the woman’s name. Sage wore a flowy maxi dress topped with a cashmere cardigan and a tangle of delicate gold chains. Her red hair was loosely braided into a crown that framed her face, and her skin was nearly translucent, flawless, and devoid of makeup. She looked like she belonged at Coachella, where she could take a long, sensual drag off someone’s joint, shake off her sweater, and languidly dance the night away with desert bonfires and younger men with pierced tongues. Sage offered a smile to the room of lovely women and, in a surprisingly baritone voice, announced, ‘Let’s get this party started!’
‘Oooh, I can’t wait to see what she brought this time,’ Ashley said, pulling Miriam’s arm toward a prime spot on the couch. ‘I hope you brought your credit card.’
The rolling suitcase Sage tugged behind her seemed rather large for jewelry, but what did Miriam know? She sipped her wine while Sage settled herself.
‘First of all, a huge thanks to Claire for hosting tonight’s … festivities. Honey, I promise not to get lube on your linen.’
Laughs all around.
‘Isn’t she a pediatrician?’ Miriam whispered to Ashley, who didn’t take her eyes off Sage’s suitcase.
‘Was. Not practicing anymore. The call schedule was hell, apparently.’
Miriam nodded. Sage looked around the room. ‘Ladies, first I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. I am not going to play some asinine icebreaker game. I am not going to push you to buy chocolate body paint. Or anything, for that matter. And I am most definitely not going to pull out some disgusting plastic dildo and tell you why it will change your life.’
A few women laughed but, to her relief, many looked as uncomfortable as Miriam felt.
‘Think of me as your intimacy concierge for high-end luxury products only.’ Sage paused dramatically. ‘How many of you expect your husband to stay interested?’ she asked, looking around.
Some called out, ‘I couldn’t care less,’ but most of the women tentatively raised their hands.
‘And how many of you put every effort into making that happen?’
Silence. No hands.
‘Can anyone remember the last time she wore a proper negligee to bed?’
‘If by “negligee” you mean an old T-shirt from college and a pair of my husband’s boxers, then I would have to say last night,’ a woman called out.
Everyone laughed. Miriam quickly took another big sip of wine, worried that she’d laughed a little too hard.
‘And dare I ask when was the last time anyone in this room gave a blow job?’
‘To my husband?’ Ashley screeched.
That elicited laughs from the entire group.
Sage shook her head as though the women had greatly disappointed her. ‘I guess I don’t even have to ask about anal. But I will say, you’re really missing out on a hot spot of female pleasure.’
The lone pregnant woman in the group said, ‘My husband just can’t get enough, especially with this.’ She rubbed her enormous belly and grinned. ‘Who doesn’t love some good pregnancy hemorrhoids? Or the fact that I talk about how constipated I am over dinner?’
Suddenly things didn’t seem so dire between her and Paul.
Sage held up her hands in mock defeat. ‘You, Leesa, are the only one with an excuse. But the rest of you – if you’re not going to put in the time and effort to keep your husbands satisfied, they’re going to look for it somewhere else.’
‘Promise?’ asked a petite woman in jeans and a leather jacket.
The women laughed and a few even clapped, but Sage ignored them and began pulling tubes and jars and bottles from her bag. They were beautifully packaged, like the kind of products at Barneys makeup counters. ‘Here we have our bath-and-body product line. Bath salts, aromatherapy diffusers, scented massage oils, and hydrating moisturizers. Everything is paraben-free and made exclusively in the U.S. using formulas developed by world-class cosmetic dermatologists. Nothing here will give you a yeast infection or cause your skin to break out, but they’re specially formulated to appeal to men.’
Miriam examined a delicate glass bottle when it was passed to her. The small block print on the front read SENSUAL MASSAGE OIL, and when she twisted off the top to smell it, she wanted to douse herself in it. Yes. She would happily buy some massage oil and offer Paul a shoulder rub. How long had it been since she’d done that? She accepted a refilled wineglass from Ashley and sank back into the couch.
Sage kept pulling out brightly colored objects in every imaginable shape and size. Like the bath products, these were all packaged beautifully in sleek, minimalist boxes with little indication as to their contents. ‘Please, feel free to open and touch all of them.’
Miriam examined a box that could have been mistaken for something you’d buy at the Apple store. It featured a picture of what looked like a lavender-colored egg and boasted the ability to vibrate in response to pressure. There were ten preset vibration patterns, or you could program it to remember up to six of your own personal patterns. When she opened it, she could see it charged on a sleek white base and came with a white silk carrying case. It felt as smooth as a river stone, just softer and a bit flexible.
‘That one there – Sorry, I don’t know your name,’ Sage called out.
Miriam was too engrossed in examining the purple egg to realize that Sage was pointing at her.
‘Miriam. Miriam Kagan,’ Ashley called out.
Miriam snapped her head up and saw the entire room looking back at her as she cupped the vibrator. The heat that started in her chest and moved straight to her face felt nearly overwhelming.
‘The one Miriam Kagan has is a bestseller. Miriam, will you hold that up, please?’
Miriam lifted it six inches in the air.
‘That little gem is a triumph of design,’ Sage declared as though talking about a new Gehry building. ‘It’s more responsive than your Porsche, and trust me, it will make you much happier. It’s perfect for partner play, given the fact that it’s not some crude imitation of your husband’s private parts. The medical-grade silicone is nonporous, making it easy to clean, and it’s completely waterproof for fun in the shower or a nice hot bath. Miriam, what do you think?’
‘Think?’ Miriam squeaked. Why was she acting like such a prude? It was a vibrator, for Christ’s sake, not a set of leather whips, and yet all she wanted to do was crawl under the couch.
‘It’s very … nice?’
Everyone laughed. Sage smiled beatifically.
‘It’s yours,’ Sage said. ‘A gift from me. Make sure you put it to good use!’
The room broke into applause. Miriam managed an embarrassed thank-you before she dropped the vibrator, complete with its charger and packaging, into her purse like a dirty secret.
Everyone’s attention shifted to a vibrator shaped exactly like a tube of lipstick, complete with a YSL logo on the side, and Miriam slipped out of the room and into the kitchen, where she grabbed the biggest hunk of Parmesan off the cheese tray and jammed it into her mouth. She’d gone for her second massive piece when Ashley appeared in front of her.
‘How fun is this?’ she said, laughing, refilling her wineglass for the third time. Miriam didn’t want to act like anyone’s mother, but Ashley was her ride home. ‘It’s so good. We all need to keep it fresh in the bedroom.’
‘My bedroom is stale,’ Miriam blurted out, then was promptly mortified.
‘Oh, honey, I’m sure that’s not true. Things always slow down with young kids. But then they pick up again.’ Ashley helped herself to the smallest baby carrot on the tray and dipped a millimeter of it into the hummus. ‘How often do you and Paul do it?’
‘Not often.’
‘What, like, once a week? Once every week and a half?’
Good God, Miriam thought. Ashley sounded as bad as Emily, only this woman had three children of her own.
‘Something like that,’ Miriam lied. ‘How often do you guys?’
Ashley laughed. ‘Not as often as Eric would like to, that’s for sure. He climbs all over me, and I probably give in three, maybe four times a week.’ Miriam must have looked shell-shocked because Ashley rushed to add, ‘If I say yes in the middle of the night, I’m allowed to just lie there.’
Miriam forced a laugh. ‘Totally,’ she said, although she didn’t think that Paul had ever woken her in the middle of the night for sex.
‘I’m glad Paul and Eric are hanging out tonight,’ Ashley said. ‘It’s so crazy hard to make couple friends where you both like both people, you know?’
‘Not tonight,’ Miriam said, although now she wasn’t sure. ‘Paul is home babysitting. Scratch that – he’s parenting. I hate when people say the dad is “babysitting” his own children.’
Ashley pulled out her phone and showed Miriam a text from Eric that read, Guys are coming over to play some poker. Invited Paul, like you said. He’s in.
Miriam grabbed her phone. Where r u?
Three dots appeared and then … Poker night at Eric’s house. The Miller girl from across the street came over to sit w/ kids. Everyone asleep. You having fun?
Yes, she wrote, and tried not to be annoyed that Paul had arranged a babysitter and gone to a friend’s house without so much as a text.
Another minuscule carrot dipped into another millimeter of hummus. Ashley shook her head as she chewed. ‘They say they’re playing poker, but it’s total bullshit. They are ogling our new au pair.’
‘You have a new au pair?’
‘Boobs up to here and an ass to die for. We all went to one of those disgusting indoor water parks last weekend, and I thought Eric would have a full-on heart attack when he saw her. She was wearing one of those Brazilian-cut bikini bottoms that’s not quite a thong but almost? And what was I in? A rash guard. And water socks. Can you picture it?’
‘No,’ Miriam said, wondering what this au pair must look like if she made Ashley – size two, perfect figure, gorgeous blond hair, and Botoxed within an inch of her life – feel less than.
‘She’s our third one, and the last two were perfection: awkward, chubby, one even had bad acne. It didn’t stop her from having sex in Tyler’s room with a guy she brought home from the city, which is why we had to fire her. Ugh, I’m still trying to get that visual out of my head.’
‘She did not!’ Miriam said, not bothering to hide her delight.
‘Yes, but when you need to rematch in the middle of the year, who’s going to be left? Only the hot ones. No moms want them. The ugly girls go like hotcakes, and by August, only supermodels are left. Claire had one last year that was a legit clone of Scarlett Johansson, only prettier.’
‘My God.’
‘What are you going to do? Take care of your own children? God forbid.’ Ashley laughed, and it was obvious that she understood exactly how she sounded but didn’t care.
Claire appeared in the kitchen. ‘I certainly didn’t leave my job on Wall Street to be a stay-at-home mom without a full-time nanny!’ she said, and winked. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’
‘Hear, hear!’ Ashley raised her wineglass and, without waiting for anyone else to toast, dumped it down her throat. Miriam made a mental note to call an Uber.
‘Miriam? Sage is looking for you.’
At the mere sound of Sage’s name, Miriam blushed, picturing the lavender egg resting in her bag. ‘Me? I’m, uh, I don’t really …’
‘It’s probably your turn in the private room,’ Ashley said, refilling. ‘After the demonstration, Sage takes each woman into a separate room so you can make your purchases in private. And you’re up.’
‘Oh, I’m fine. Thanks, but I already got that one thing and—’
‘Come on!’ Ashley said, grabbing Miriam’s arm, sloshing some of her wine onto the counter. ‘Stop being such a prude. Trust me, Paul is going to thank you for this. Think of the jewelry. Men are often overcome with a desire to buy their wives diamonds when sex is reintroduced to the marriage!’
‘It’s not that we’re not having sex,’ Miriam muttered, but she stopped herself. Why had she said anything to Ashley about something as personal as her and Paul’s sex life?
‘Go on. Buy whatever looks good – he’ll like anything, I promise.’
Before Miriam could protest again, Sage swooped out of nowhere, yanked Miriam into a room, and closed the door behind her. ‘Welcome to my boudoir,’ Sage said, waving her arms expansively.
The juxtaposition between the masculine mahogany of Claire’s husband’s office and the objects that occupied every centimeter was comical. On the wall behind the desk was an old-school oil portrait of some titan of industry who appeared to be gazing out on a desk filled with sex toys of every imaginable shape and color. The velvet tufted couch was strewn with naughty black lingerie, and the windowsill served as a staging area for various types of lube.
‘Thank you for tonight,’ Miriam said, trying to keep her gaze directly on Sage. ‘It was so … informative. And thanks also for the lavender … thing. But I think that’s all I’m interested in for right now.’
‘No pressure!’ Sage sang, pulling Miriam around the room in a small circle. ‘Just look around. I know it can sometimes feel a little embarrassing, but trust me, I can’t even tell you how many marriages I’ve saved with a few well-chosen items.’
Miriam’s laugh sounded hollow and uncomfortable. ‘Oh, Paul and I are totally fine. Just young kids, you know? Nothing more serious than that.’
‘Of course not,’ Sage agreed. ‘But those – lean years, shall we call them? – can quickly become the norm if you aren’t vigilant. One minute you’re blaming it on nursing and the next minute your youngest is four and you can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex.’
Five, Miriam thought.
‘Then the next thing you know, your husband’s sexting the nanny or the tennis coach or his nurse or his secretary, and bam! End of life as you know it. Clichés exist for a reason.’
Miriam’s thoughts flashed to Paul, who was likely sitting around another multimillion-dollar home at that very moment, staring at the gorgeous, unsuspecting au pair who’d made the mistake of stopping by the kitchen for a banana or a can of Coke. Miriam glanced around at the lingerie, which looked microscopic. ‘I can’t wear any of that,’ she said, waving her hand toward a mesh catsuit that may or may not fit a ten-year-old.
Sage nodded in agreement while Miriam tried not to be offended. ‘No, that’s not what I’m thinking. Here, look at this. It’s my all-time bestseller and just a great, nonthreatening way for the bashful to jump right in.’
‘What is it?’ Miriam asked, accepting the beautiful navy box that read love is art in small script.
‘It’s a gigantic white canvas – think the size of a shower curtain – and it comes with completely safe and organic body paint. You lay it out on the bedroom or bathroom floor, apply the paint to each other, and then make love right on top of the canvas. When you’re finished, you get to shower together and soap each other up to get off all the paint. I bet you used to shower all the time together. Can you even remember the last time?’
‘No,’ Miriam murmured, staring at the box.
‘The best part is that you’ll have made a masterpiece that you send back to the company, and they frame it in a color of your choosing and you mount it over the bed. Every time you go to sleep, you’ll both remember that night. It’s literally the best date night ever.’
‘That actually does sound cool,’ Miriam said, trying to envision her and Paul covering each other in black paint and rolling around on the canvas together. It seemed fun. It didn’t require her to jam herself into anything binding or itchy, nor insert anything into her body – or his. She wouldn’t have to pretend to be a cowgirl or a schoolgirl or an any other kind of girl – just herself having some old-fashioned sexy fun with her husband. Yes, Sage was right. This was a good start.
‘You can’t even imagine how many of these I’ve sold tonight. You’re going to walk into half the master bedrooms in Greenwich and see these hanging on the wall.’
‘I’ll take it!’ Miriam said, yanking out her Amex.
‘You’ll love it,’ Sage promised, tucking the box into a discreet brown paper bag. ‘And so will your husband. Here, sign with your finger and you’re good to go.’
Miriam accepted the iPad from Sage and nearly passed out when she saw the total: $475.
‘Um, I didn’t realize … I thought … It’s quite a bit of money …’
‘Oh, that’s just because it includes the framing, sweetie! Trust me. It’s going to change your life for the better. And you can’t put a price on that.’
There was a knock on the door. ‘Just a moment!’ Sage called out. ‘We’re nearly finished here.’
So much for I won’t pressure you to buy anything, Miriam thought as she scrawled her name with her fingertip. Watching over Miriam’s shoulder, Sage pressed ‘submit’ and flashed her an enormous smile. ‘Enjoy it, okay? And come back again soon. He’s going to be hooked!’
Miriam half-staggered back out to the living room, where Ashley was sitting with three or four other women. They were all laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces.
‘What’d you get?’ Ashley called to Miriam.
‘Oh, nothing, really,’ Miriam said, trying to hide the telltale brown paper bag behind her leg.
‘I bet you got the canvas!’ called a woman Miriam recognized as co-president of the school’s PTA. The women all nodded.
‘Hey, not to pry,’ said the one who had twins the same age as Miriam’s. ‘But Ashley said you’re friends with Karolina Hartwell. Is it true she drank an entire bottle of tequila and then got in the car with all those kids?’
‘No, that’s actually not true at all,’ Miriam said. She noticed the room had quieted, but she wasn’t sure what she should say next. It was hardly the right time or place to announce that the senator had set her up. So she quickly helped herself to another sip of wine and held her breath until the group changed topics.
It took a minute for Miriam to realize that she was a little tipsy, yes, but in a good, warm way, and besides, how long had it been since she’d gotten buzzed with friends? Ashley was high-energy, but she was kind and so willing to introduce Miriam around and make her feel welcome. And most important, she had taken a first positive step to improving whatever temporary weird thing was going on between her and Paul. She took a few deep breaths, pulled her phone out of her bag, and sent her husband what counted in mommy world as a racy text: At sex-toy party and all stocked up. Hope poker night is fun. See you later. xoxo Smiling, she gathered up her things and went in search of another glass of wine.
Miriam flashed on Karolina. She was glad Karolina had hired Emily, since it was obvious that all of Greenwich believed Karolina was a drunk. There was work to do there. But other than that, even Miriam had to admit: as far as nights went, this one wasn’t a total bust, and Greenwich wasn’t shaping up to be such a bad town after all.