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“Yeah, I’ve seen natural swimming pools like this before.”
“Why do I get the sense that you’re not impressed?”
“It’s very impressive, Lucie. I’ve never seen a trilevel infinity pool of such scale, two stories underground.”
“Cecil’s very proud of it. He spent a year obsessing over every detail of the pool—it was his idea to make it glass-bottomed so you could see right into the wine cellar.”
“It’s very clever. He can stare at all his pinot noirs while he’s swimming the butterfly.”
“Or maybe we can invite Viv over and you can stare at her tattoos while she does the backstroke.”
“Viv was on the Swedish national swim team. I’m sure she’d love to use this pool.”
“It wasn’t a real invitation, George. I was just responding to your snide remark. I know you don’t care for this house.”
>
“How have I given you that impression?”
“I see the way you’re staring at everything in disapproval.”
“Lucie, you’re being absurd. I’m staring because I’ve never seen anything like this before. There’s a Venetian canal in the living room!”
“So you like the house?”
“Lucie, you’re the one who has to live here. Do you like the house?”
“I like it, I like it a lot. So…how long have you and Viv been dating?”
“We’re not dating. She’s just a surf buddy.”
“Uh-huh.”
* * *
…
Overheard in the warming room…
“This is my favorite room, Cecil. I love the scent of oud and the fire pit and all these velvet chaise longues placed in a sunburst. What exactly do you use this space for—séances?”
“It’s where you relax and warm up before going into the infrared sauna or the cold plunge pool or one of the spa treatment rooms, Mother.”
“How lovely! I want to warm myself up here sometime. This party is such a success, darling. Everyone is wowed by the house, as they should be. Do you know what Mordecai von Ephrussí told me? He was so impressed by your vision that he’s going to nominate you for the Rome Prize.”
“Mon dieu!”
“And Lucie’s been brilliant tonight. Absolutely brilliant! You know, to be honest, I was a little doubtful when you said she would rise to the occasion. She’s soooo WASPy in some ways, it was hard for me to picture her without her collection of old canvas tote bags or that little black scrunchie she uses for her ponytail. But seeing her tonight in the Valentino and the Carnet earrings I lent her, I thought, That girl cleans up gooooood! She’s absolutely precious, and she’s beginning to remind me of myself.”
“I told you, Mother, she’s more like you than you think. Did you hear the raves she got for curating my new art collection? Jeffrey Deitch tried to hire her on the spot, and the Spraggs want her to redo all the art at their family foundation.”
“Yes, yes, Lucie’s a true gem. She’s like the Koh-i-Noor, a diamond that only gets discovered once a millennium. Natural and unspoiled in so many ways, but with the most polished pedigree.”
“She’s got the blood of Ming emperors flowing through her veins, mingling with the blood of Old New York and British aristocracy,” Cecil declared. “Can you imagine what our children will look like? Quarter Asians are the most beautiful species in the world—just look at Prince Nikolai of Denmark, who’s modeling for all the top fashion houses now, or that blond kid on Saved by the Bell, or Phoebe Cates, who still looks like she’s twenty-five! Our children will never age!”*1
“Oh, Cecil, should we move up the wedding? I can’t wait to have my quarter-Asian grandchildren who will never age!”
* * *
