The Wives. Lauren Weisberger

thanks for coming. Very cool of you, but I do think Helene is overreacting a little.’

      Rizzo twisted open a bottle of SmartWater and drank the entire thirty-four ounces without taking a breath. Helene gave Emily a look like that said, Why don’t you take this one.

      ‘I’m sure you didn’t mean anything … nefarious by it, Rizzo, but especially after what happened in Charlottesville last year, the public tends to make a pretty big deal out of anti-Semitism, which is typically how wearing a Nazi costume is interpreted. So we should definitely get out in front of this.’

      He waved his hand and started on another bottle. ‘All just for laughs. People get it. My fans get it.’

      Emily took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice even. ‘Okay, maybe. But some fans might not. The Jewish ones in particular. Or anyone who was not in favor of the Holocaust, which is probably a lot of people. Certainly your sponsors – Uniqlo, Lexus, SmartWater – won’t be thrilled. And I don’t imagine Sony will be either. So I’ve come up with a plan to extricate you from all this ugliness. One hundred percent clean, a do-over. As long as you listen and play your part well, this will all go away, I promise.’

      Rizzo didn’t appear particularly impressed, but he looked at her and waited.

      ‘I’ll call all my contacts at the usuals: the Post, HuffPo, TMZ, Variety, etcetera, and explain how you thought the swastika was an ancient Buddhist symbol of peace. We’ll play the idiot card. Just a role, but important to play up: you’re young and inexperienced and horrified that you offended anyone. You read about the symbol in a Buddhist text you were studying for a meditation class and really connected with its peaceful message.’

      ‘Young and inexperienced?’

      ‘You’re not, of course,’ Emily said. ‘That’s just the part you’re going to play.’ When he didn’t say anything, she continued, ‘You will make yourself available for all respectable interviews, where you’ll be contrite and apologetic. You’ll make a massive donation to the ADL. You’ll pay a very public visit to the Holocaust Museum in D.C., where you’ll meet with Jewish clergy and issue a formal statement stressing that this was all a mistake and a misunderstanding and not at all representative of who you are. You’ll repeat it a thousand times, or however many it takes, with genuine sincerity, until the story shifts gears and you suddenly become a champion of peace and a defender of persecuted peoples everywhere. Trust me, we can get there so long as we all follow the script.’

      ‘That’s smart,’ Helene said, nodding. ‘Emily’s plan sounds like exactly what we need.’

      Rizzo snorted. ‘Really? I think it sounds asinine. I’m supposed to go out there and pretend like I’m some sort of idiot?’

      Emily could feel Helene trying just as hard as she was not to exchange any glances.

      ‘I mean, this is all such bullshit. Total overkill.’

      ‘Do you have another suggestion?’ Emily asked, her voice as neutral as she could manage. He really was as huge a fucking idiot as she’d imagined he would be.

      ‘Yeah, dude, I’ll post an explanation – that I was just having fun on New Year’s and never wanted to piss anyone off. I mean, I don’t have anything against Jews. My agent is Jewish. My accountant is Jewish. Hell, all of my lawyers are Jewish. My fans know I’m not a hater.’

      ‘Rizzo, I can’t express strongly enough that the best response is definitely not “some of my best friends are Jewish,”’ Emily said. ‘I really don’t think you can get away with Snapchatting a “my bad” and expect it all to go away. Because it won’t.’

      ‘If I post it to Linger, that’s exactly what will happen.’

      Emily had no idea what Linger was, but she wasn’t about to admit it. ‘Rizzo, this is what I do. Affleck after the nanny. Bieber after the wanker pictures. Kevin Spacey after the fourteen-year-old. DUIs. Drunken rants at cops. Political rants at Oscars. Shoplifting. More sex tapes than I could ever count. I can help you.’

      ‘Cool,’ he said. ‘I’ll think about it and get back to you.’ And before Emily could mask her shock, he strolled out of the gym and closed the door behind him.

      Emily looked to Helene, who shrugged. ‘He’s just like that,’ she said. ‘He knows you’re right.’

      ‘Really? I didn’t get that impression. And this isn’t something that can wait. I’ve already seen the pictures on Radar Online. Has he?’

      ‘I know, I totally agree with you. Let me talk to him after he cools down, and I’ll call you. You’ll be local?’

      Emily nodded, although she hadn’t given one moment’s thought as to where she was headed next. She’d come directly from JFK with her suitcase, figuring she’d be working out of Rizzo’s apartment for the rest of the day and night, at which point she’d check in to a hotel. But now? With no confirmed jobs?

      Helene walked her to the foyer, and the maid appeared with Emily’s rolling suitcase. ‘Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’ll call you within the hour, okay?’

      But Emily’s phone rang before the elevator reached the lobby. ‘That was fast.’

      ‘I’m really sorry, Emily, but I wanted to tell you right away. He wants to … go in a different direction.’

      ‘A different direction? What, is he planning to join the KKK? Because even I would have a hard time smoothing that one over.’

      Helene didn’t laugh. ‘I told him you were the absolute best, but he wants to go with Olivia Belle. Apparently she called him this morning and he liked what she had to say. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. We’ll of course cover your flight and time, just invoice me.’

      ‘Are you serious?’ Emily asked, not able to help herself.

      ‘I think he’s making a mistake, and I told him as much. But if he listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this situation.’

      ‘No, I get it,’ Emily said, even though she didn’t. She mumbled something about talking later and hung up as soon as she could. Thankfully, the lobby furniture was both welcoming and empty, because she sank into an armchair without even looking.

      Olivia Belle? If that was even her real name. Was he fucking kidding? She was a child. Granted, one with an Instagram following of more than two million people, compared to Emily’s twenty thousand. But still. Instagram didn’t fix crises. Followers didn’t manage mega-celebrities. Tweeting was not a sufficient solution to a catastrophe. Right?

      Still, this was the third big job she’d lost to that bitch. Olivia Belle was twenty-six and gorgeous and popping up at every worthwhile party and event on both coasts. She was loud. And all over every social-media platform. And moving in on Emily’s clients as if she owned the industry.

      Emily started dialing Kyle before she remembered it was New Year’s Day. She could call Miles, she supposed, but he was probably working out or hanging with friends. Instead she pushed ‘Miriam’ on her favorites list and laughed, as she always did, when a picture of her friend grinning in the dorkiest way popped up on her screen.

      ‘Hi!’ Miriam said. Kids were yelling in the background. ‘Isn’t it early for you to be awake. What, like noon?’

      ‘I’m in New York, actually. I hate that you left the city. Why didn’t you think about me for one second when you made this asinine decision to be a suburban housewife?’

      ‘Aw, sweetie. I miss you too!’

      ‘I’m serious. I’m here, what? Like twice a month? And you just left.’

      Miriam laughed. ‘I’m thirty minutes away, Em. There are trains that come here like every five seconds. How long are you staying? I’ll come meet you tomorrow as soon as the kids are back in school.’

      ‘I