Strictly speaking, Casey hadn’t been singled out for the play–date. By happy accident, Carlotta’s sixth birthday was in May and, in an effort to get her fully integrated with her new classmates, her mother had decided to throw a party at her house. Even so, Paula felt a sense of triumph when the stiff, pale pink invitation bearing Carlotta’s family crest arrived by courier at the house. She had immediately gone down to FAO Schwarz, the toy store where Carlotta’s birthday list was held, to ensure that Casey could be assigned one of the best gifts on the list. Paula had then spent hours in Bonpoint on Madison Avenue selecting a new outfit for her daughter. But if Paula had put careful consideration into her daughter’s appearance, it was nothing compared to the agony of deciding what to wear herself. Standing in her walk–in closet in just her Hanro underwear, her hair already cut and blow–dried by Paul Podlucky that morning, Paula silently bemoaned the fact that she had not one piece of couture to wear.
