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Chapter 7
7 On a good day, it takes about ninety minutes to get from our townhouse to the new flagship Danforth Studio in Manhattan. And when it comes to New Jersey traffic, it’s rarely a good day. So it was three hours past the gala’s start time when I finally skidded into the studio, my dress shoes sliding against the smooth wood floors as I made for the event space in the open loft above the main studio room. I’d tried calling Poppy on my way home, and then again several times on the way there, and there’d been no answer. No answer to my texts either, and that was how I knew. She was furious with me. But there was a baby! My mind protested, as if she were already arguing with me. You can’t be mad at a baby! Once she would let me explain everything, it would be fine. I was sure of it. I just
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