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bar.
    “Amanda, should you be drinking?” Stephanie shot me a quizzical look. She had one hand on Andre’s arm and was guiding him to the bar.
    “One drink every now and then is fine,” I said, giving Stephanie a wide smile. If Stephanie didn’t let go of Andre’s arm I might strangle her.
    “In France most pregnant women drink wine at dinner,” Andre said supportively. But he didn’t remove his arm from Stephanie’s grasp.
    “I’ll tell Glenn to open one of our best French wines.” Stephanie disappeared into the kitchen.
    Andre stood close to me and put his hand on my back. “Relax, Amanda,” he whispered into my ear.
    “I forgot what a vulture she is.”
    “She is an attractive woman,” Andre said. “But no one is as beautiful as you.”
    I was trying to figure out how to respond when a man wearing khakis came down the stairs. He must have been at least six foot three, skinny as a stick. He was almost bald and wore round brown glasses.
    “Hi, I’m Glenn. You must be Amanda and Andre. I’m so glad you came.” He shook our hands.
    “Andre, help yourself.” Stephanie held the tray in front of Andre. “I tried some French recipes in your honor. Tell me what you think of my escargot.” She picked up a small round snail and popped it in Andre’s mouth.
    I took a swig of champagne. I hadn’t eaten anything but a handful of saltines since lunch. The champagne floated straight down to my shoes.
    “How did you and Stephanie meet?” I asked Glenn.
    “I spent my junior year at the Sorbonne and Glenn was working at Lehman Brothers in Paris. We ran into each other at a café near to his office.” Stephanie was beaming.
    I took a piece of toast with liver pâté from the tray. It looked and smelled awful, but I had to put something in my stomach that didn’t have bubbles.
    “We had a lovely time exploring Paris,” Glenn agreed.
    I knew what Glenn saw in Stephanie: five feet seven inches of perfect bronze flesh. But why had she picked him? Glenn looked like a very thin version of Gumby. I glanced nervously at Andre and wished he’d button up his shirt.
    “He just swept me off my feet. Proposed to me at the top of the Eiffel Tower. With this”—she stuck her engagement ring under my nose. It was an emerald-cut diamond, at least five carats. She had a matching diamond wedding band. I noticed the large diamond studs in her ears and the floating diamond hanging on a gold chain around her neck. I was beginning to understand what Stephanie saw in Glenn.
    My legs felt wobbly. I sat down on the sofa. I saw Stephanie staring at Andre. Her pink mouth was open in a small o and she ran her tongue over her teeth.
    “Who else is coming?” I asked.
    “Oh, just a couple of guys Glenn knows from Lehman’s and their wives. Boring. I thought it would be such fun to have you two here. Maybe Andre can improve my French cooking.” Stephanie continued to beam.
    Andre was either oblivious to her advances or didn’t want to offend her. He smiled at Stephanie and made no move to sit next to me.
    “Actually, would you mind if I stole your husband for a moment? I want to show him my entrées.” She pulled Andre into the kitchen.
    I was left alone with Glenn. He sat down on the sofa and offered me a bowl of pretzels.
    “No, thanks.” I shook my head, thinking if I put anything in my mouth I would choke.
    “So you and Stephanie went to prep school together?” Glenn asked pleasantly.
    “Yes. It was a small school so all the kids knew one another pretty well.” I smiled weakly. I wanted to tell him that I knew Stephanie too well: She was a cheating hussy after his money and he should get out now, before they had kids.
    “Stephanie has very fond memories of school. When I took the position in San Francisco she convinced me to look at houses in Ross. We fell in love with this one.”
    “It’s a beautiful home. But didn’t Stephanie want to stay in the city?” I asked.
    “She thinks Ross is a perfect place to raise