At ten after seven, Eddie’s cell phone rang, and he figured it would be Grace, asking when he would be home for dinner. As lovely as grilled steaks and corn and a good bottle of red wine and the company of his wife and daughters sounded, he couldn’t go that far. He would not be placated by fingerling potatoes when he’d caught his wife sleeping with the gardener! He couldn’t just play through as though nothing had happened, as though nothing had changed.

He needed to talk to someone. He needed a friend. He pulled out his phone and dialed the Chief’s supersecret cell phone number.

“Hey, Eddie,” the Chief said. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” Eddie said, a little too enthusiastically. The Chief had said Eddie could call if he needed a hand. And Eddie needed one now. He didn’t necessarily want to share what had happened; he just wanted another man to talk to. “Are you free tonight? I’d love to meet you somewhere for a drink. How about the Brant Point Grill in twenty minutes?”

“I have plans tonight, Eddie,” the Chief said. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Eddie said. “It’s really last minute. I’ve just had a day. Could you meet me later? Say, around ten?”

If the Chief could meet him at ten, Eddie could grab a burger from Lola and linger until nine fifteen, when he would slip out to 10 Low Beach Road to collect the cash—and then make it to the Brant Point Grill by ten.

“Ten?” the Chief said. “That would put me out past my bedtime. Sorry, Eddie.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie said. “Nothing I can say to persuade you?” It was embarrassing, supplicating like this, but Eddie was near desperate to connect with someone who had nothing to do with his family or work or his diabolical side business.

“Maybe another time,” the Chief said. His tone of voice was verging on irritated, and Eddie didn’t want to be an itch, so he said, “Okay, Chief, no problem.” And hung up.

Eddie sat in the office until the sun went down and the room grew dark. Out on the street, Eddie watched people headed out for their delicious summer evenings. Groups of teenagers loped toward the Juice Bar for ice cream sundaes; parents pushed strollers to the playground at Children’s Beach. Couples held hands on their way to dinner at Oran Mor or the Club Car. How Eddie would have loved to be picking up Grace and taking her to dinner at the Club Car. They could have ordered the caviar, which was served with an icy shot of vodka. Afterward, they could have sung at the piano bar. He would even have sprung for the twenty bucks it would have taken to get Ryan to sing “Tiny Dancer.” He would have done it for Grace. She loved Elton John.

He was so… lonely. But he didn’t have to be. He could go home for dinner. He could go next door to Lola, get himself a martini and a burger and maybe hand out some business cards.

In the dark, the office was downright gloomy. His depleted empire.

Eddie finally turned on a light. He forced himself to go through the pile of unpaid bills on his desk. There, on top, was a bill for twenty-four hundred dollars from Hester Phan. Her success bonus.

That did it. Eddie felt as if he were falling into a fiery pit of anger and indignation. Success bonus, his ass! He picked up the phone and made the call he’d been wanting to make all day.

After Benton left the office, Eddie drove out to Low Beach Road. He was still shaking. Grace Grace Grace. He’d come so close to losing her. Eddie tried not to regret what he’d just done, but a part of him wished he had just gone home. He thought about Grace coating the rib-eye steaks with her magic marinade. He pictured her drizzling the fingerling potatoes with olive oil, sprinkling them with sea salt and coarsely ground pepper, and shucking some Bartlett’s Farm corn. Both Hope and Allegra would still be in bathing suits, lying in chaises side by side at the pool, reading. When Grace called them to set the table, they would dutifully rise to go help. They would even pick up their towels and deposit them in the outdoor hamper, where they belonged. Then Hope would go to the silverware drawer, and Allegra would pull out four plates. Together, they would head out to the deck.

Eddie would pull a great vintage of Ponzi pinot noir from his cellar. Grace would be so happy with his choice that she would raise her face to him for a kiss.

When he got home tonight, Eddie decided, he and Grace would have a talk. They would start fresh. No more Benton Coe. And, for his part, Eddie would give up 10 Low Beach Road. He couldn’t ask Grace to end her affair until he cleaned up his own dirty mess. This week was it. The end. He would meet with his accountant, Frank, and they would decide which of Eddie’s two commercial properties to put on the market. Even with the mortgages, he could probably still clear a decent profit.

Money couldn’t buy happiness—except when it could.

He would figure it out. He just had to take care of this one last thing.

At ten minutes to ten, Eddie was sitting in his Cayenne outside 10 Low Beach Road. The air-conditioning in the car was on, but not the radio. Eddie had a cold bottle of water and a container of cherry Tums in the console. His hands were shaking.

A car pulled up behind his—Nadia’s Jeep—and Nadia and the other girls climbed out. Their hair was piled into high confections, with curled tendrils framing their faces. Their makeup was thick and bright; it reminded Eddie of icing on a cake. They wore short skirts and teetered in stilettos. They were giggling and teasing one another in Russian. They seemed… happy, bordering on joyful, and Eddie tried to let the sound of their voices soothe his hot, aching conscience. These young women were here to prostitute themselves, but at least they seemed to be enjoying it. Or maybe what Eddie was witnessing was bravado or giddy anticipation of what they might consider “easy money.” After all, it was better than cleaning toilets, right? Less demeaning? Eddie had no idea how the girls viewed it. In his heart, he knew this whole business was repugnant. Eddie’s parents would be so ashamed that it pained Eddie to think of it. He wished Barbie had offered to come with him tonight. But she never offered. She just sat at her desk with her pens and notepads from the exotic hotels where she met Glenn Daley, and she waited for Eddie to hand over her portion of the cash.