“And they’re how old?” Grace asked.
“Young. Early thirties.”
“I always hoped Julia Roberts would buy the apartment. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have Julia Roberts here?”
“Even Julia Roberts probably doesn’t have twenty million dollars cash to buy an apartment,” Mark said.
“It’s a shame, isn’t it?”
“Actresses are not good tenants,” Mindy said. “Look at Schiffer Diamond. She left her apartment empty for years. It caused a huge mouse problem. No,” she went on, shaking her head. “We need a nice, stable couple who will live in the building for twenty years. We don’t want any more actors or socialites or someone who will attract attention. It was bad enough when Mrs. Houghton died. The last thing we need are paparazzi camped outside the building.”
The Rices arrived at seven-thirty. Mindy brought them into the living room, where Mark and Grace were sitting stiffly on the couch. Mindy had brought out two wooden chairs and motioned for the Rices to sit. Paul was more attractive than Mindy had imagined he’d be. He was sexy, with the kind of dark curly hair that reminded Mindy of a young Cat Stevens. Mindy distributed small bottles of water and perched between Mark and Grace. “Shall we begin?” she said formally.
Annalisa took Paul’s hand. She and Paul had made several visits to the apartment with the real estate agent, Brenda Lish, and Paul was as enamored of the apartment as she was. Their future lay in the hands of these three odd people staring at them with blank, slightly hostile faces, but Annalisa was not afraid. She’d survived rigorous job interviews, had appeared in debates on TV, and had even met the president.
“What’s your typical day like?” Mindy asked.
Annalisa glanced at Paul and smiled. “Paul gets up early and goes to work. We’re trying to start a family. So I’m hoping to be busy with a baby soon.”
“What if the baby cries all night?” Grace asked. She was childless herself, and while she adored children, the reality of them made her nervous.
“I hope he—or she—won’t,” Annalisa said, trying to make a joke. “But we’d have a nanny. And a baby nurse at first.”
“There’s certainly enough room in that apartment for a baby nurse,” Grace said, nodding agreeably.
“Yes,” Annalisa said. “And Paul needs his sleep as well.”
“What do you do in the evenings?” Mindy said.
“We’re very quiet. Paul
gets home at about nine, and we either go out to dinner or we eat something at home and go to bed. Paul has to be up at six in the morning.”
“Do you have a lot of friends?” Mark asked.
“No,” Paul said. He was about to say “We don’t like a lot of people,” but Annalisa squeezed his hand. “We don’t do a lot of socializing. Except on the weekends. Sometimes we go away.”
“One has to get out of the city,” Mark agreed.
“Do you have any hobbies we should know about?” Grace asked. “Play any musical instruments? You should know that there’s a rule in the building—no playing of musical instruments after eleven P. M.”
Annalisa smiled. “That rule must be left over from the jazz era. And One Fifth was built a little before that fun was over—Was it in 1927? The architect was…” She paused as if thinking, although she knew the answer by rote. “Harvey Wiley Corbett,” she continued. “His firm also designed much of Rockefeller Center. He was considered a visionary, although his plans for elevated sidewalks in midtown didn’t work out.”
“I’m impressed,” Grace said. “I thought I was the only one who knew the building’s history.”
“Paul and I love this building,” Annalisa said. “We want to do everything we can to maintain the historical integrity of the apartment.”
“Well,” Mindy said, looking from Grace to Mark, “I think we’re all in agreement.” Mark and Grace nodded. Mindy stood up and held out her hand. “Welcome to One Fifth,” she said.
“That was easy. It was so easy, wasn’t it?” Annalisa said to Paul in the Town Car, riding back to the hotel.
“How could they reject us?” Paul said. “Did you see them? They’re freaks.”
“They seemed perfectly nice to me.”
“What about that Mindy Gooch?” Paul asked. “She’s one of those bitter career women.”
“How do you know?”