asks.
“ ‘Lisette,’ ” I read, “ ‘I can’t make any guarantees. The Belfer is notorious for board turndowns. That said …’ That’s all I’ve got. So now we need to find out what the Belfer is.”
“I’m on it,” Shanelle says, clicking madly on her cell phone.
I can’t help but smile. Shanelle and Trixie may think I needn’t bother sleuthing, but they’re game to play along.
“Okay,” Shanelle says, “the Belfer is a famous apartment building on Central Park West. It’s a co-op building.”
I’ve heard of co-ops, not that we have many in Cleveland, at least to my knowledge. “So it sounds like the board of the Belfer was going to decide today whether to approve Lisette as an owner. Or as a renter, I guess.”
“Not as a renter,” Shanelle says. “This article says the Belfer doesn’t allow owners to rent out their apartments. It’s very strict about renovations, too, and only last year did it start allowing pets.”
“May I join you?” Tonya asks. She sits down beside me and leans over. “Want to hear the latest?”
“We always want to hear the latest,” Trixie breathes.
“Not only are we resuming previews Sunday,” Tonya whispers, “but Oliver may move opening night up to Wednesday .”
Tonya appears astounded by that prospect, as am I. “Wednesday next week?” I say. “As in five days from today?”
“You got it. And I heard that Lisette’s father is making Oliver put Lisette’s photo on the playbill’s cover. I’m not thrilled about that, if it’s true.”
It must be rare for the book writer’s photo to land on the playbill’s cover. But I suppose that what Warren Longley wants, Warren Longley gets.
We gossip about Dream Angel for a while before we return to the co-op topic. “You can probably answer this question, Tonya,” Trixie says. “What’s the famous co-op building here in Manhattan where John Lennon lived?”
“Oh, that’s the Dakota.”
“I was just reading an article about the Dakota,” Shanelle says. “They describe it as the most famous co-op in the world. Get this. The least expensive apartment available right now is a two-bedroom duplex priced at five point nine five million dollars.”
“Wow,” Trixie and I say in unison.
“Yoko Ono still lives in that building,” Shanelle says. “And I bet not in the least expensive apartment, either.”
It’s hard to fathom sums of money that large. No wonder the lawyers thought my quarter-million-dollar titleholder prize was laughably small.
“The Belfer’s not as expensive as that, is it?” Trixie asks.
“Oh my God, the Belfer .” Tonya clutches my arm. “I would kill to live in the Belfer.”
CHAPTER TEN
“What’s so great about the Belfer?” Shanelle wants to know.
“Where do I begin?” Tonya cries, then has to hush when people twist around to give her a dirty look. “First of all, it’s pre-war.”
“Pre which war?” I ask.
“World War Two. Those buildings are so fabulous, so gracious and elegant. They’re made of limestone and all the apartments have high ceilings, like nine or ten feet high, really thick walls so you never hear your neighbors, handcrafted moldings, massive layouts—”
“I get the picture,” Shanelle says. “They’re not cookie-cutter boxes with no character.”
Like my house in the Cleveland suburbs, but I keep that factoid private.
“They have tons of character,” Tonya goes on. “They’re like the grandes dames of New York. They were built when construction was an art. And it’s so prestigious to be able to say that you live in the Dakota or the Belfer. Of course you have to be loaded.”
“They must be in the best neighborhoods,” Trixie says.
“The very best neighborhoods. Oh, they just have everything. Dramatic archways that frame a room, marble fireplaces, a huge number of windows, maybe a tin ceiling or herringbone wood floors—”
“But you have to be approved to buy one?” I interrupt to ask. Hearing this
“ ‘Lisette,’ ” I read, “ ‘I can’t make any guarantees. The Belfer is notorious for board turndowns. That said …’ That’s all I’ve got. So now we need to find out what the Belfer is.”
“I’m on it,” Shanelle says, clicking madly on her cell phone.
I can’t help but smile. Shanelle and Trixie may think I needn’t bother sleuthing, but they’re game to play along.
“Okay,” Shanelle says, “the Belfer is a famous apartment building on Central Park West. It’s a co-op building.”
I’ve heard of co-ops, not that we have many in Cleveland, at least to my knowledge. “So it sounds like the board of the Belfer was going to decide today whether to approve Lisette as an owner. Or as a renter, I guess.”
“Not as a renter,” Shanelle says. “This article says the Belfer doesn’t allow owners to rent out their apartments. It’s very strict about renovations, too, and only last year did it start allowing pets.”
“May I join you?” Tonya asks. She sits down beside me and leans over. “Want to hear the latest?”
“We always want to hear the latest,” Trixie breathes.
“Not only are we resuming previews Sunday,” Tonya whispers, “but Oliver may move opening night up to Wednesday .”
Tonya appears astounded by that prospect, as am I. “Wednesday next week?” I say. “As in five days from today?”
“You got it. And I heard that Lisette’s father is making Oliver put Lisette’s photo on the playbill’s cover. I’m not thrilled about that, if it’s true.”
It must be rare for the book writer’s photo to land on the playbill’s cover. But I suppose that what Warren Longley wants, Warren Longley gets.
We gossip about Dream Angel for a while before we return to the co-op topic. “You can probably answer this question, Tonya,” Trixie says. “What’s the famous co-op building here in Manhattan where John Lennon lived?”
“Oh, that’s the Dakota.”
“I was just reading an article about the Dakota,” Shanelle says. “They describe it as the most famous co-op in the world. Get this. The least expensive apartment available right now is a two-bedroom duplex priced at five point nine five million dollars.”
“Wow,” Trixie and I say in unison.
“Yoko Ono still lives in that building,” Shanelle says. “And I bet not in the least expensive apartment, either.”
It’s hard to fathom sums of money that large. No wonder the lawyers thought my quarter-million-dollar titleholder prize was laughably small.
“The Belfer’s not as expensive as that, is it?” Trixie asks.
“Oh my God, the Belfer .” Tonya clutches my arm. “I would kill to live in the Belfer.”
CHAPTER TEN
“What’s so great about the Belfer?” Shanelle wants to know.
“Where do I begin?” Tonya cries, then has to hush when people twist around to give her a dirty look. “First of all, it’s pre-war.”
“Pre which war?” I ask.
“World War Two. Those buildings are so fabulous, so gracious and elegant. They’re made of limestone and all the apartments have high ceilings, like nine or ten feet high, really thick walls so you never hear your neighbors, handcrafted moldings, massive layouts—”
“I get the picture,” Shanelle says. “They’re not cookie-cutter boxes with no character.”
Like my house in the Cleveland suburbs, but I keep that factoid private.
“They have tons of character,” Tonya goes on. “They’re like the grandes dames of New York. They were built when construction was an art. And it’s so prestigious to be able to say that you live in the Dakota or the Belfer. Of course you have to be loaded.”
“They must be in the best neighborhoods,” Trixie says.
“The very best neighborhoods. Oh, they just have everything. Dramatic archways that frame a room, marble fireplaces, a huge number of windows, maybe a tin ceiling or herringbone wood floors—”
“But you have to be approved to buy one?” I interrupt to ask. Hearing this
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