Free One Fifth Avenue by Candace Bushnell

dollars in stocks. A long time ago, James had wanted to invest in the stock market, and Mindy had said, “Do I look like someone who wants to throw away her money? The stock market is nothing more than legalized gambling, and you know how I feel about gambling. And the lotto, for that matter.”
    Adding up all their cash, they had barely seven hundred thousand 50
    Candace Bushnell
    dollars. Mindy knew this sum was more than what most Americans had, but in their world, it wasn’t much. It cost thirty-five thousand a year to send Sam to private school, and it would take at least a hundred and fifty thousand dollars to send him to college. On the plus side, their apartment—which they had bought slowly in pieces and put together during the real estate downturn in the mid-nineties—was worth at least a million dollars. And they’d paid only two hundred and fifty thousand. Altogether, their assets were close-ish to two million dollars. If they wanted to buy just one floor of the penthouse, they were still one and a half million short.
    Maybe they should sell everything and move to the Caribbean, Mindy thought.
    How much could a house in the Caribbean cost? A hundred, two hundred thousand dollars? She could swim and make salads and read.
    James could write pathetic novels about the local goings-on. They’d be giving up, but so what? The only glitch was Sam. He’d love it, but would it be good for him? He was a genius and such a nice boy. Not the least bit arrogant about his intelligence, unlike some of his friends. But if they left New York, it could throw Sam’s whole educational career off track, meaning he might not get into an Ivy League school. No, Mindy thought, shaking her head. We will not give up. We will persevere. We will stay in New York with our fingernails digging into the cement, if only for Sam’s sake.
    The buzzer rang, and she jumped up, wondering who it might be.
    Probably James, who was out buying overpriced food at Citarella and who’d probably forgotten his keys.
    Instead, it was Enid Merle.
    “Is Sam home?” Enid asked. “I need to install some new software, and I was wondering if he could help.” Sam was the building’s resident computer expert; whenever anyone had a problem, they called on Sam, who was a computer genius and had built up a cottage industry in the building.
    “Sam isn’t here,” Mindy said. “He’s away for a few days.”
    “How nice for him. Where?”
    Mindy stood in her doorway, blocking Enid’s entry. She didn’t want O N E F I F T H AV E N U E
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    Enid to see her apartment. She was private about her space, but also embarrassed. Plus, her hostility toward Philip often extended to Enid, as she was his aunt. “He’s gone upstate with friends. I’ll tell him to ring your buzzer when he gets back.”
    Enid didn’t move away. “What do you think?” she asked.
    “About what?” Mindy said.
    “It might not be a bad idea to break up the apartment.”
    “I don’t know why you’re interested,” Mindy said.
    “I’ve lived in the building for over sixty years. Naturally, I’m interested in everything that goes on here.”
    “I appreciate that, Enid. But you’re no longer on the board.”
    “Not technically,” Enid said. “But I have a lot of friends.”
    “We all do,” Mindy said, although in her case, she wasn’t sure this was entirely true.
    “If we split up the apartment, we could probably sell to people who already live in the building. It could save you a lot of headaches,” Enid pointed out.
    Ah, Mindy thought. Enid wanted the bottom floor for Philip. It made sense. Philip could break through from his own apartment. And he probably had the money. Not enough for the whole apartment but enough for one floor.
    “I’ll think about it,” Mindy said. She closed the door firmly and went back to her accounts. No matter how she added them up, they were still short. That was that, then. There was no way she would allow Philip Oakland to get the bottom