As soon as she sent it she telephoned Candace. “Candace, it’s me.”
“Hi, honey, what’s up?”
“Book me into Richard Ward at once.”
8
Think, speak, and act for the Higher Good, and you will be a lucky person.
In Search of the Perfect Happiness
So the e-mails began again. Jack was coming to London for five days beginning the week of October 13, and Tuesday, October 14, would be a fine day for lunch. He’d book somewhere and let her know nearer the time.
Angelica went into a spin, torn between her desire to see him and her sense of loyalty as a wife and mother. Her moods swung from ecstasy to panic. Her head throbbed with the weight of her dilemma. As she lay awake at night unable to sleep, her nails bitten down to the quick, her heart raced with that elusive, mislaid magic.
She stopped eating cake and worked out four times a week at Ten Pilates. David began adjusting the springs to make the exercises more challenging, and soon she found that her body no longer suffered such agonizing stiffness afterwards. Her toenails shone fuchsia pink, and her figure began to change. The waist that wasn’t now was, and she belted her dresses with pride. The Calvin Klein underwear drawer was opened on a daily basis, but Olivier, so preoccupied with the FTSE 100, didn’t notice. It didn’t matter. The girls did, and even Jenna Elrich found something nice to say.
“You look great!” she commented at the school gates one afternoon as they waited in the autumn sunshine to pick up their children. Jenna was taking advantage of the cooler weather to show off her new Burberry cape and boot-cut purple trousers. Her shiny Gucci loafers were so high she towered over Angelica. Around her neck she wore a silk Hermès scarf with just the right shade of purple flowers on it to tie in with the trousers, and hiding most of her face was a large pair of brown Chanel sunglasses. “What have you been doing? You’ve lost so much weight.” That was classic Jenna, insinuating that Angelica had previously been the size of a hippo.
“Pilates.”
Jenna looked her up and down. “You’re unrecognizable.”
“Hardly.”
“No, really. I barely recognized you. You look fabulous. I’m surprised. Is it just Pilates, or is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Sex,” Angelica stated simply. “I’m just having an awful lot of sex.”
Jenna’s face crinkled with sympathy. “You poor darling. You need to go to the pharmacy and ask for some husband repellent.”
Angelica laughed at the absurdity of the woman. “Does it work for you?”
“If only such a thing existed! I give my husband a minute. I’m like, ‘Okay, darling, you’ve got sixty seconds. Go!’ and I close my eyes and think of those Manolo shoes I want or that perfect little cashmere from Ballantyne. ‘Right, minute over! Enough!’”
“Sounds like you’re ready for an affair.”
“Oh, there’s no shortage of men who admire me.” She laughed as if that idea was preposterous. “But John would divorce me, and right now, the way things are, I don’t think I’ll find anyone richer.”
“Better hang on to him, then.”
“Until he tells me to stop shopping. Really, if I was one of those wives, I would take a lover, for sure.”
Angelica managed to extract herself and found Kate huddled in a group with Scarlet, Candace, and Letizia, telling them about her latest advice from Betsy Pog. “It’s going really well. We have to tell each other three things we like about each other over breakfast and before we go to sleep at night.”
“Can you find three things first thing in the morning?” Angelica asked.
“Can you find three things, period?” added Candace.
“It’s a struggle, but I make them up if I can’t.”
“That’s naughty, darling,” said Letizia. “You have to give it a chance and do it properly.”
“What does he say about you?” Scarlet asked.
“Oh, that’s easy. The list is as long as the Mississippi.” She giggled. “I think he’s falling in love with me all over again. Then, we have to whisper a word, just a single word, into the other’s ear when we’re in public.”
“Like what?” Candace asked.
“Sexy, horny, delicious, manly . . . that sort of thing.”
“That’s hilarious!” Scarlet laughed. “What does he whisper to you?”
“I can’t say—I’m too embarrassed!” She bit her bottom lip, then relented. “It really turns me on. He’ll sidle up and whisper ‘Juicy’ then wander off again, leaving me quivering with excitement.”