A house is supposed to be a sanctuary—safe, calm, restorative—in theory. Circumstances, alas, disrupt that, more often than not. In my case, dramatically. My husband, Michael Wolff, makes his living by his proximity to some truly horrible, even evil people—who often come into our house. Quite the opposite of Feng Shui. He has written about the monsters of our time. And both in spirit and in fact, they become a constant presence. Donald Trump’s voice on the speaker phone, Jeffrey Epstein’s Bentley idling at the curb, Steve Bannon and Roger Ailes meeting at our house for dinner. Both Bannon and Ailes made terrible fun of Donald Trump. (I baked Baba au Rhum.)