One Fifth Avenue - Candace Bushnell [68]
Although she had yet to forgive Mindy, Enid’s ire at the Rices themselves had fizzled with the hot August weather. Mostly because Enid found Annalisa Rice, with her auburn hair and curious wide mouth, intriguing. Several times a day, Enid caught glimpses of Annalisa Rice on her terrace, dressed in a smudged T-shirt and shorts, taking a break from unpacking boxes. Annalisa would lean over the railing to try to catch a breeze, shaking her long hair out of its ponytail for a second before twisting it back up on top of her head. On Thursday, the hottest afternoon of the year so far, Enid left Roberto a note to pass on to “Mrs. Rice.”
Ever helpful, Roberto delivered the envelope to Mrs. Rice’s door himself. As he handed her the missive, he attempted, not very subtly, to peek around her, hoping to get a glimpse of the apartment. Without the furniture or rugs, it appeared vast and echoey, although Roberto was able to see only into the second foyer and the dining room beyond. Annalisa thanked Roberto, firmly closed the door, and opened the envelope. Inside was a light blue card, across the top of which was embossed ENID MERLE, in no-nonsense gold lettering. Underneath was written: “PLEASE COME BY FOR TEA. AT HOME TODAY FROM THREE TO FIVE.”
Annalisa immediately set to work at making herself presentable. She clipped and filed her fingernails and scrubbed her body with a loofah. She put on a pair of khakis and a white shirt, tying the tails around her waist. The effect was casual but neat.
Enid’s apartment wasn’t what Annalisa was expecting. She’d assumed the apartment would be filled with chintz and heavy drapes, like Louise Houghton’s, but instead, it was a museum of seventies chic, with white shag carpeting in the living room and a Warhol above the fireplace. “Your apartment is beautiful,” Annalisa said after she’d shaken hands with Enid and been invited inside.
“Thank you, dear. Is Earl Grey tea okay?”
“Anything’s fine.”
Enid went into the kitchen, and Annalisa sat down on the white leather couch. In a few minutes, Enid returned, carrying a papier mâché tray, which she set on the coffee table. “I’m so happy to meet you properly,” she said. “Usually, I meet all our newcomers first, but unfortunately, that wasn’t possible in your case.”
Annalisa stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea. “It all happened so quickly,” she said.
Enid waved this fact away. “It’s not your fault. Mindy Gooch rushed your application through. I’m sure it will work out for the best. No one wants a lot of potential buyers trooping through the building—it’s extra work for the doormen and irritating to the other residents. But we like to take our time approving applicants. We kept one gentleman waiting a year.”
Annalisa smiled tensely, not sure of what to make of Enid Merle. She knew who Enid was, but given Enid’s comments about their entry into the building, Annalisa had yet to discern whether she was friend or foe.
“He was a so-called fertility specialist,” Enid continued, “and we were right to wait. It turned out he was impregnating his patients with his own sperm. I kept telling Mindy Gooch there was something unsavory about the man, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Mindy couldn’t see it at all, but it wasn’t her fault, poor dear. She was trying to get pregnant herself then, and she wasn’t thinking clearly. And when the scandal broke, she had to admit I’d been right all along.”
“Mindy Gooch seems very nice,” Annalisa said cautiously. She’d been looking for an opening to talk more about Mindy. Paul mentioned the parking spot in the Mews nearly every other day, and Annalisa wanted to find a way to secure it for him, guessing that Mindy Gooch was the key.
“She can be nice,” Enid said, taking a sip of her tea. “But she can also be difficult. Bullheaded. She’s very determined. Unfortunately, it’s the kind of determination that doesn’t always lead to success.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Mindy lacks people skills.”
“I think I see what you mean,” Annalisa replied.