“Why would anyone give us trouble?” Paul said. “As a matter of fact, I just saw Mindy Gooch. In the lobby. She told me we weren’t allowed to put through-the-wall air conditioners in the apartment.”
“That’s just crap,” Annalisa said. “Was she at least nice about it?”
“What do you mean by ‘nice’?”
Annalisa picked up the paper plates. “Don’t fight with her, is all. Enid said Mindy can be tricky. Apparently, the way to get to her is through her son, Sam. He’s a computer whiz—works on everyone’s computers in the building. I could e-mail him.”
“No,” Paul said. “I can’t have some kid messing with my computer. Do you know what’s on my hard drive? Billions of dollars’ worth of financial information. I could destroy a small country if I felt like it.”
Annalisa turned and bent over to kiss Paul on the forehead. “I know how you boys love to play spy,” she said. “But I wasn’t thinking about your computer. I was thinking about mine.”
As she turned to go into the kitchen, Paul called after her, “Can’t we do this the old-fashioned way? Isn’t there someone in the building we can bribe?”
“No, Paul,” Annalisa said. “We’re not going to do that. Just because we have money doesn’t mean we’re going to get special treatment. Let me try it Enid’s way. We’re in a new place, and we have to respect the culture.”
Down below, in the kitchen of the Gooches’ stifling apartment, Mindy Gooch was cutting up vegetables. “Paul Rice basically told me to shove it,” she said to James.
“Did he use those exact words, ‘Shove it’?” James asked.
“No. But you should have seen the expression on his face when I said no to the through-the-wall air conditioners. His expression said, ‘Shove it.’”
“You’re being paranoid,” James said.
“I’m not,” Mindy said. Her new puppy, Skippy, jumped up on her leg. Mindy fed him a bit of carrot.
“You shouldn’t feed the dog people food,” James said.
“It’s health food. No one ever got sick from eating a carrot.” She picked up the dog and cuddled it in her arms.
“You were the one who insisted on letting them into the building,” James said. “They’re your responsibility.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mindy said. She carried the little dog to the door and put him out onto the cement slab that was their patio. Skippy sniffed around the edges of the slab, then squatted down and urinated.
“What a good dog!” Mindy exclaimed. “Did you see that, James? He peed outside. We’ve only had him for three days, and already he’s house-trained. What a smart doggie!” she said to Skippy.
“And that’s another thing. Skippy. He’s your responsibility, too,” James said. “You can’t expect me to walk him. Not with my book coming out.” James wasn’t sure how he felt about Skippy. He’d never had a dog growing up, or any pet, for that matter, as his parents didn’t believe in having animals in the house. “Peasants have animals in the house,” his mother always said.
“Can’t I have one thing, James?” Mindy asked. “One thing of my own? Without you criticizing it?”
“Sure,” James said.
The puppy ran through the kitchen and into the living room. James chased after him. “Skippy!” he commanded. “Come!” Skippy ignored him and skittled into Sam’s room, where he jumped on Sam’s bed.
“Skippy wants to visit you,” James said.
“Skipster. Dude,” Sam said. He was seated at his little desk in front of his computer. “Check this out,” he said to his father.
“What?” James said.
“I just got an e-mail from Annalisa Rice. Paul Rice’s wife. Isn’t that the guy Mom was arguing with?”
“It wasn’t an argument,” James said. “It was a discussion.” He went into his own little office and closed the door. There was a small high window, and in the window was an old air conditioner that snuffled like a child’s runny nose. James pulled his chair around and sat beneath the warmish air, trying to get cool.
Tink, tink, tink went the noise. It was eight in the morning, and Enid Merle looked over the side of her terrace and frowned. Outside the building, the scaffolding was going up, thanks to the Rices, who were about to start renovating their apartment. The scaffolding would be up by the end of the day, but it was only the beginning. Once the actual construction began, there would be weeks of a cacophony of drilling, sanding, and hammering. Nothing could be done about the noise: The Rices had the right to improve their apartment. So far, they had done everything to the letter, including sending out notices to the other residents of the building, informing them of the construction and the length of time estimated to do the work. The apartment would be rewired and replumbed for a washer and dryer and restaurant-quality appliances and, according to Roberto, “high-powered computer equipment.” Mindy had won the first round on the air conditioners, but the Rices were still pushing. Sam told Enid that Annalisa had employed him to construct a website for the King David Foundation, which provided music and art classes for underprivileged teens. Enid was familiar with the charity, which had been started by Sandy and Connie Brewer. At last year’s gala, they were rumored to have raised twenty million dollars at a live auction in which hedge-funders were falling all over themselves to outbid each other on prizes like a live concert by Eric Clapton. So Annalisa was making her way in the new society, Enid thought. It was going to be a very busy and noisy fall.
In the apartment next door, Philip and Lola were awakened by the noise.
“What is that?” Lola complained, putting her hands over her ears. “If it doesn’t stop, I’m going to jump out of my skin.”