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out, in New Jersey, but it’s ten minutes away!’ The excitement dances in her face. ‘So close!’ She refocuses. ‘And for work? You really are a personal assistant? What kind of work have you been doing?’
    Beth smiles, her face lighting up, imposing a mask of beauty onto features that seemed so plain.
    ‘I’ve done a bit of everything,’ she says. ‘Jack of all trades . . . I started nannying for a family in Brooklyn a few years ago, and I guess they just ended up giving me more and more to do, and it really became a household manager/assistant job. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but the kids didn’t need me so much, and I really loved the organizing of the house. I worked in Connecticut for a while, doing much the same thing.’
    Grace tries to quickly process this in her head as she looks in the young woman’s eyes. Nanny Loves children. Trustworthy Household manager. Good with responsibility. Personal assistant dealing with sometimes egomaniacal famous author? Unclear.
    ‘What kinds of things did you do as a household manager?’
    ‘Anything and everything that needed to be done,’ Beth says. ‘For the Brooklyn family I booked all the travel for the husband. He runs a big hedge fund, so even though he had an assistant at work, he had an office at home, and I just ended up taking on a lot of his work.’
    ‘You must be good.’
    Beth shrugged, unwilling to divulge her obvious talents. ‘I kept on top of the household, which I did for the family in Connecticut too. I had a schedule of who was supposed to come when. I’d make sure the windows were cleaned when they were supposed to be, the pool was opened, the floors were waxed. They had rental properties too, so I was the point of contact with the tenants, fixing anything that needed to be fixed, making sure everything ran smoothly.
    ‘I was in charge of making sure nothing ran out, that there were always household supplies. I’m kind of a control freak, so that wasn’t difficult. I’d walk their dogs and take them to the vet, arrange all the children’s activities, drive them to airports. I’d go food shopping, and I got into the habit of cooking for them.’
    ‘You cook?’ Grace’s interested delight is apparent.
    Beth looks bashful. ‘Not very well, but I love it, and the wife didn’t cook at all, so my chicken with pasta and rosemary seemed like a gourmet extravaganza. I’ve read a few articles about you and your cooking,’ she says. ‘I even have a few of your recipes I cut out from a magazine. I love how passionate you are about cooking, and how accessible you make it.’
    Grace cannot hide her delight. ‘Flattery, as I’m sure you know, will get you everywhere!’ They both laugh. ‘Is there anything you don’t do?’
    Beth thinks for a minute. ‘I don’t sew,’ she says finally, which makes Grace laugh.
    Shrugging her shoulders apologetically, Beth continues. ‘What really makes me feel good is making people’s lives easier. If I’ve got nothing to do, I’ll go in and organize a pantry, or a cupboard. Something. Anything. I kind of think that when you’re working in someone’s home, you have to be willing to do whatever needs to be done. I’m happiest when I’m busy.’
    This girl might be perfect, she thinks, studying her. She is hard to read – plain in appearance, there is a confidence to her voice that is in contrast to her looks; it is confusing and unexpected, yet confidence is undoubtedly a good thing.
    All of which is irrelevant if Ted doesn’t like her. Given her skills, Grace would like to offer her the job anyway. If Ted doesn’t like her, she could come and work for Grace.
    ‘Darling?’ Ted is bearing down on them, barely noticing Beth. ‘Are you ready?’ He often does this, speaks at large events, is able to be gregarious and charming and warm, but as soon as the window of opportunity to escape opens, he is out of there. His limit for socializing is finite. He can do it, and at times enjoys