He couldn’t do it. It was the equivalent of giving up.

And here was gorgeous Lola Fabrikant, in his bathroom, contrite and pliable. He sighed. “Okay, Lola,” he said. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” she said, jumping up. “I promise. Oh, Philip, I love you so much.” And she went back to bed.

Philip smiled. Where did she pick up her crazy ideas about love?

he wondered. “Hey, Lola,” he called. “Why don’t you make us some breakfast?”

She laughed. “You know I don’t cook.”

“Maybe you should learn.”

“Why?” she asked. Philip finished shaving, examining his skin in the mirror. He’d had young girlfriends before, but none had been quite like Lola, he thought. Usually, the young women were much more accom-modating. He took a step back and patted his face, shaking his head. Who was he kidding? Schiffer Diamond had been much wilder than Lola. But he’d been in love with Schiffer, so her antics had driven him crazy — once she’d even suggested they have sex with another man. She might have been joking, but he never knew for sure. On the other hand, he wasn’t in love with Lola, so, he told himself, he was safe — her actions couldn’t really affect him.

He went into the bedroom. Lola was lying on her stomach, naked under the covers, as if she were waiting for him. “Oh, hello,” she said, turning her head to greet him. Pulling back the covers, he forgot all about Schiffer Diamond as he surveyed Lola’s body. She opened her legs invitingly. He dropped his towel and, kneeling behind her, lifted her hips and slipped his cock in from behind.

He came quickly and felt the sleepy calm that followed the satiation of pleasure. He closed his eyes. Lola rolled over and began playing with his hair. “Philip?” she asked sweetly. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Do you want to come to Atlanta with me?”

“Maybe,” he said before he fell asleep.

11

The drilling had begun again in the Rices’ apartment. Enid Merle got up from her desk in annoyance and went outside. On the terrace above was a pile of copper pipes. So the Rices still hadn’t finished the renovations on their bathrooms. Or maybe the pipes were for the aquarium Paul Rice was rumored to be installing in Mrs. Houghton’s ballroom. Enid hoped the renovation wouldn’t drive her into becoming one of those particular types of old people who, with little in their lives on which to focus, become obsessed with their neighbors. She turned on the History Channel to distract herself. The programs were a reminder of the true nature of human beings — while there were always a few who strived for greatness, most of humankind was engaged in the crude art of staying alive, reproduction, and indulgence in the baser instincts, including murder, paranoia, and war.

Her bell rang. Expecting Philip, she opened the door and found Mindy Gooch standing in the hallway. Mindy’s arms were crossed, and she wore her usual grim expression. “I need to talk to you about something,” she said.

“Come in.” Enid held open the door so Mindy could pass. Mindy’s visit was curious, Enid thought, as they hadn’t spoken since Mrs. Houghton’s funeral.

“I think we have a problem,” Mindy said.

Enid smiled. “I’ve lived in this building my entire life, dear,” she said, thinking that Mindy was referring to their lack of communication. “I was here before you moved in. And I expect to be here after you move out.

If we don’t speak for the next five years, it won’t be an issue for me.”

“I’m not talking about you,” Mindy said. “I mean the Rices. Something has to be done about them.”

“Is that so,” Enid said coldly.

“Paul Rice came by my office last week.”

“Trying to be friendly, I suppose.”

“Trying to bribe me to approve his in-the-wall air conditioners.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him no.”

“Well, then,” Enid said. “What’s the problem?”

“This,” Mindy said. She opened her hand and held up a tiny green plastic toy soldier thrusting a bayonet.

“I don’t understand,” Enid said.

“This morning, when I opened my door to get the newspaper, I found a whole troop of them arranged on the mat.”

“And you think Paul Rice did it,” Enid said skeptically.

“I don’t think he did it. I know he did it,” Mindy said. “He told me if I didn’t approve his air conditioners, it was war. If this isn’t a sign,” she continued, shaking the little green army man in Enid’s face, “I don’t know what is.”

“You must confront him,” Enid said.

“I can’t do it alone,” Mindy said. “I need your help.”

“I don’t see how I can help you,” Enid said calmly. “Dealing with unpleasant residents is your job. After all, you are the president of the board.”

“You were the president of the board for fifteen years,” Mindy said.

“There must be something we can do. Some way to get them out.”

Enid smiled. “They’ve only just moved in.”

“Look, Enid,” Mindy said, beginning to lose patience. “We were friendly once.”

“Yes, we were.” Enid nodded. “We were friendly for a long time.We were even friendly after you conspired to have me removed as president.”

“I thought you didn’t want the job anymore,” Mindy protested.

“I didn’t, and that’s why I forgave you. I thought, If she wants the job that much, why not let her have it?”

Mindy looked away. “What if the approval was a mistake?” she asked tentatively.

Enid sighed. “There’s nothing we can do. The only way we can force them out is if they don’t pay their maintenance. And given the circumstances, I’d say that’s highly unlikely.”

“I’m not sure I can live in the same building with this man,” Mindy said.

“Then perhaps you’ll have to move,” Enid said. She held open her door.

“So sorry I can’t help you, dear. Have a good day.”

Lola put down the novel Atonement and, opening the door to the terrace, stepped out onto the icy surface in her high-heeled Chloé boots.

She peered over the edge and, still seeing no sign of Philip, went back inside. She closed the book and glared at the cover. It was a gift from Philip, although “gift” probably wasn’t the right word. “Suggestion” was more like it. He had given her the book after they’d had a disastrous dinner with one of his old friends. “This is a great book,” he’d said. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” she’d said gratefully, although she knew exactly what he was up to. He was trying to educate her, and while she thought it was sweet of him, she couldn’t understand why he found it necessary. As far as she was concerned, it was Philip who needed educating. Every time she mentioned a hot new actor or some YouTube video everyone was talking about, or even when she played music for him off her iPod, he claimed never to have heard of any of it. This was frustrating, but she always refrained from criticizing him. She at least had the decency not to hurt his feelings and make him feel old.

In adopting this attitude, she’d found she could pretty much get Philip to do whatever she wanted. Today, for instance, they were going to visit the set of Schiffer Diamond’s new TV show. Everyone was talking about the show, and knowing Philip was, as he put it, “old friends” with Schiffer, Lola had wondered why he hadn’t gone to see her. Philip seemed to wonder, too, and, with her urging, went down to her apartment and left her a note. One evening, Schiffer called, and Philip went into his office and talked to her on the phone for an hour with his door closed while Lola waited impatiently outside. When he came out, he said he was going to see Schiffer on the set, but Lola shouldn’t bother coming with him, as it would be dull and she would be bored. This after it was her idea to go in the first place! Then she’d given him a foot massage and, while she was rubbing his feet, pointed out that a set visit would be good for her education. As his researcher and girlfriend, naturally, she wanted to understand everything about his work. “You know what I do,” he’d protested, but only mildly. “I sit at a computer all day.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “You’re going to Los Angeles for two weeks in January. And I’ll probably come out for a week. I’ll have to go to the set with you then — you can’t expect me to sit in a hotel room all day.”

“I thought we discussed L.A.,” he said, tensing his foot. “It’s going to be a nightmare. The first two weeks of production always are. I’ll be working sixteen-hour days. It won’t be fun for you at all.”

“You mean I won’t see you for two weeks?” she’d exclaimed. He must have felt guilty, because almost immediately, he agreed to take her with him to the set of Lady Superior after all. She was so pleased, she didn’t even mind about him not going to her parents’ house for Thanksgiving; she told herself it was too soon in their relationship to be spending holidays with each other’s families. She wouldn’t have wanted to spend Thanksgiving with Enid, which was what Philip had done, taking his aunt to a boring lunch at the Century Club. Philip had dragged Lola there once, and she’d vowed never to return. Everyone was over eighty. So Lola happily went back to Windsor Pines and met up with her girlfriends and stayed up until two A.M. on Friday night and showed off pictures of her and Philip and Philip’s apartment. One of her friends was engaged and planning a wedding; the others were trying to get their boyfriends to marry them. They looked at the photographs of Philip and his apartment and sighed in envy.

That was three weeks ago, and now it was nearly Christmas, and Philip had finally come up with a day for the set visit. Lola spent two days get ting ready. She’d had a massage and a spray tan, her dark hair was highlighted with strands of gold, and she’d bought a dress at Marc Jacobs. After the purchase, her mother called, wondering if she had indeed just spent twenty-three hundred dollars. Lola accused her mother of using her credit card to spy on her. They had had a rare fight, and Lola hung up, felt terrible, then called her mother back. Beetelle was nearly in tears. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” Lola demanded. When her mother didn’t respond, Lola asked in a panic, “Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?” “Your father and I are fine.” “So what’s the problem?” “Oh, Lola,” her mother said, sighing.