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schedule’s open.”
    “I’d love that, but work’s so intense
right now. I barely have time to breath,” Junie said, but Nancy could hear her dramatic little intakes
of air. “I am sneaking out of the office for an appointment with your hair stylist
tomorrow.”
    “You will adore her. She’s the Leonardo
DiCaprio of hair design.”
    “Do you mean Leonardo da Vinci?”
    Nancy sighed. Junie was as linguistically
limited as Todd. “No, DiCaprio, all windblown, I-am-the-king-of-the-worldish.”
    Nancy ran water for a bath, thinking that her
conversation with Junie had extremely well. She’d set the right tone for this
separation, making it sound friendly and professional, like a sophisticated
bi-coastal marriage without the annoying luggage searches.
    Nancy slid into the steamy water, looked at
the immaculate white tiled room and the snowy white towels aligned on the
gleaming chrome towel bars. Would she, could she ever convince Todd that
perfection was both achievable and desirable? she wondered as she sunk deeper
in the tub.
     
    Nancy ordered a writing table and chair
(cabriole legs and a simple leaf motif) and now all she needed was someone who
complemented her décor as perfectly as the Gino Sarfatti steel tube and
chromium chandelier complemented her furniture. She was pleasantly surprised
when a new laptop and phone were delivered.
    Nancy called Todd that evening to thank him,
but he didn’t answer, so she left a message. Now he could stay at the office as
late as he liked and hang out with his buddies to his heart’s content.
    Nancy contacted her closest friends, those in
her bridal party, to announce that she was back in the city and had a window of
opportunity for spa days, lunches, shows and shopping. They seemed happy to
hear from her, but explained that they were so incredibly busy. They left her
with vague promises that they would call soon.
    Well, Nancy had important things to do, too,
including orchestrating the party for her social godmother, Gigi Barton. Gigi,
heiress to the Barton’s tissue paper fortune, had hosted Nancy and Todd’s wedding. Gigi hadn’t seemed
to like Todd, but she did like parties, and now Nancy had to make sure that every detail was
flawless.
    The event was only a week away, and Nancy quickly became so
engrossed her planning that she went for 15 minutes at a time without thinking
about her marriage.
    She also went over her finances. She had
enough cash in her personal account to live comfortably for about three months,
the time she planned to stay here. By the end of that time, she’d be earning
income from Froth and wouldn’t need to withdraw money from the accounts she
shared with Todd.  
    On Monday morning, after Nancy had had her first
low-fat cappuccino of the day, she dressed in a vintage ink blue Valentino silk
suit with an ivory collar, bow closures, and a knee-length skirt. She wore them
with new, black suede pumps.
    She had positioned her own writing table
so that the indirect light from the bay window was most flattering to her
golden and rose coloring. She’d even practiced smiling in a way intended to be
friendly, but authoritative.
    The first person who came for an
interview was chewing gum and wearing such hellish hippie shoes that Nancy didn’t want her to
befoul the hand-knotted rug on her hardwood floor.
    The second person bragged that she’d
held her own wedding at a theme park. She described the event as “magical.” Nancy rushed through the
interview trying not to shudder visibly.
    She was feeling disheartened when it was
time to interview the third applicant.
    The tall, dark-haired man walked into
the room wearing a windowpane suit in charcoal with a chalk line in the
subtlest lavender, and a lavender shirt. She’d dreamed of meeting a man who
could wear a windowpane pattern with élan. When she tore her eyes from his
clothes, she noticed that he had a very interesting and attractive angular face
and deep blue eyes.
    “Good afternoon, I’m