“Jacqui—,” he began, his voice soothing. But she wasn’t going to be placated.
“It was great bumping into you again. Have a nice life.” And with that, Jacqui returned to the party, certain for the second time that summer that she would never see Pete Rockwood again.
kiss a prince,
find a frog?
JACQUI WAS STILL ANNOYED WHEN SHE FOUND MARCUS, who was saving a spot for her on one of the modern white couches and keeping her champagne glass filled. She smiled when she saw him. Everything was going to work out splendidly—she was moving to the most romantic city in the world with her boyfriend, and she was going to be an international supermodel. The more people told her otherwise, the more she was sure of it.
Marcus smiled back as she sat down beside him on the couch. “Great news, love—we can get a ride to Paris on my friend’s private jet tonight. We’ll get there early, and I can show you the city before we have to get to work.”
“That’s fantastic,” she purred, snuggling next to him on the oversize white couch. The sooner the better. She couldn’t wait to get out of here.
“You’ll love Paris,” Marcus murmured, playing with her hair. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Paris, and they were leaving tonight. She was more than ready for her fantasy life to begin.
“The other girls are going to love you,” Marcus continued, nuzzling her neck.
Jacqui opened her eyes with a start. “What other girls?”
“Your roommates,” Marcus said casually, running a finger up her leg and tracing all the way up to her thigh.
She pulled away from his touch. Other girls? Roommates? Her Parisian dream was starting to look very crowded. “I thought we were going to be together in Paris, just you and me.”
“You and me, and Natalie and Francesca and Zenobia,” Marcus said casually, setting his glass down on the table. “Although I’ll be gone for a little while after next month. Midas and I are doing a film.”
“Excuse me?” Jacqui stared at him, her jaw agape. “Repeat that again. I know my English isn’t very good sometimes.”
“My flat’s one of the Chrysler Model apartments. I rent it out because I’m not there a lot,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’ll like the other girls, I promise. You won’t be lonely. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” His tone indicated that he thought he was being very generous.
“But I thought …” Her voice trailed off, and she began to feel the tears well up in her eyes.
“Oh, Jacqui, love.” Marcus sighed, turning to her and taking both her hands in his. “You had to know that this was only for the summer?” He tried to look shocked, but somehow Jacqui got the feeling he’d had this conversation before, with a lot of other girls.
Jacqui’s heart clenched in her chest. Another sucker punch. “But you said—to move with you to Paris,” she said dumbly, drawing her hands out of his.
“I said for you to move to Paris and be a model and that you could stay with me,” he corrected, carefully enunciating each word.
Jacqui shook her head, more disappointed in herself than in Marcus. She’d thought that he loved her and had let herself be swept right off her feet. But when she stopped to think about it, his words had always been so vaguely stated that there were no promises of the future, just empty remarks. Hungry for romance, she had filled in the rest.
“Darling. You know how much I adore you. And the two of us, it was great for business. Great for the shoot,” he drawled, stroking her cheek. “And look at you, you’re a star.” He gestured to the enormous photographs on the walls.
She looked at all the photographs, the intimate shots he’d captured—of her in his bed, wiping the sleep from her eyes, sitting wistfully by the window and looking out at the stars. Her eyes closed, waiting for his kiss. Marcus had made it look personal, like he knew her. But in reality he had only presented to the world a perfectly packaged image, sold as the real thing.
“Reality fashion” indeed. It was all scripted, all staged, as fake as her relationship had been. Women look more beautiful when they’re in love, he’d told her. But for him it was just the way the industry worked. A way to get a better picture. He had used her, and worst of all, she had let him.
“C’mon. If we leave now, we can wake up tomorrow on the Champs-Elysées.” Marcus stood, holding out his hand. He didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong.
“Marcus, are you ready?” Rupert Thorne appeared at his side. His eyes lit up immediately when he saw Jacqui. “Is this your friend?”
Jacqui felt like she might throw up. What an idiot she had been. She stood up from the couch, grabbed her drink, and threw it in Marcus’s face. The surrounding partygoers gasped. Who was making a scene at such a civilized event?
Marcus shrugged as he wiped his face with a jet-black napkin. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
She turned on her heel and left the party, catching a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. Her hair was put up in a complicated pouf, and she was wearing so much makeup it felt like her face was going to crack. Her dress was too short, and her heels hurt. She looked like a beautiful doll. Exactly what she’d never wanted to be.
This wasn’t her. The real Jacqui lived in jeans and flats because it was easier to run around after the kids in those clothes. The real Jacqui was hardworking and determined and never took the easy way out. Mara and Eliza were right. Pete Rockwood was right. She shook her head, unable to believe that a stranger had known her better than she had known herself.
best friends always
know best
MARA TIPTOED THROUGH THE DARKENED FOYER OF THE Finnemore mansion, making a beeline for the kitchen. She’d arrived at the Vogue party just as it was winding down and, after a disappointing lap of the party, realizing she’d missed Eliza and Jacqui, she’d come straight home. She’d missed dinner and was starving from the four-hour Jitney ride—which, she thought sadly, had all been for nothing. The house was dark and silent, so she was surprised to see a light on in the kitchen.
She found Eliza sitting by herself at the counter, wearing a bright red gown with puffed sleeves, a chicken sandwich in hand.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” she asked. Only Eliza would be casually eating a sandwich wearing a gown that looked like it had come straight off the runway.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Eliza said simply, wiping mayonnaise from her lips with a napkin. Chunks of chicken salad fell onto the floor around her, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. “How was your dinner party?” she asked dryly.
“I didn’t go. I went to the Vogue party instead, tried to find you.” Mara took a seat across from her friend.
“You did?” Eliza asked, her face lighting up.
“Why aren’t you over there?” Mara asked. She reached for the bag of potato chips next to Eliza’s plate, and Eliza moved it closer. Without even having to say anything, they both knew the fight between them was over.
“I have so much to tell you.” Eliza sighed.
“Me too.” Mara nodded. She raised an eyebrow. “Got any more of that chicken salad?”
“Left drawer.” Eliza smiled.
“Where’s Jacqui?” Mara got up and moved over to the Sub-Zero
“Right here.” Jacqui appeared in the doorway. She’d changed into a pair of sweats and an old NYU T-shirt. Of course, she looked as gorgeous as ever.
“What happened to you?” Eliza asked as Jacqui sat down at the counter and helped herself to Eliza’s potato chips. “You left the party early. Everyone was looking for you for the photo op. They had to settle for pictures of me and Midas.” Eliza had been a little upset when no one could find Jacqui but had shaken it off and enjoyed being the center of attention for a change. All the editors at Vogue were falling over themselves to compliment her on the clothes. She mentally reminded herself to send a flood of bouquets to their office tomorrow to thank them for the party.
“I broke up with Marcus.” Jacqui told them about what he’d said and her painful revelation. She sighed, pulling back her freshly washed black hair into a ponytail. “I should have listened to you guys.”
“Me too,” Mara admitted. She recounted the argument she’d had with David and how she’d left him high and dry. “We’re done. It’s over.”
“You were right about him,” both Mara and Jacqui said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.
“I’m such an idiot,” Jacqui said. For the whole cab ride home, she’d felt like her world was falling apart. But after a long, hot shower, she realized she was being overly dramatic. After all, what had she lost? As far as NYU knew, she would still be at orientation. And she’d had a really fun summer. She’d wanted a boyfriend, and she’d imagined one for herself. But as a summer fling, Marcus really had shown her a good time. As for her heart—it was bruised, but it wasn’t broken. She was okay with being single if that was what was in the cards for her right now. She knew now, though, that she didn’t want to settle for anything less than the perfect guy next time.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jac,” Mara consoled. “I should have known too—I can’t believe what an awful snob David turned out to be,” she confessed. She told them what he’d said about her writing and her chances for publication, and both girls immediately became incensed.
“He’s an idiot,” Eliza declared, polishing off her sandwich and eating the chunks that had fallen on her plate. “You’ll publish that book without his dragon-lady mom. I know a great agent who can help you. Don’t worry. We’ll show him yet.”
“I think he’s intimidated by you,” Jacqui said, opening another large bag of chips. “You’re the one with all the clips from real magazines. He’s just the editor of a student paper.”
“Ryan was right….” Mara sighed. “He told me David was a jerk, but I didn’t listen … to any of you.” She took a huge bite out of her sandwich. Love trauma always made her hungry.
Jacqui and Eliza just sat there, looking at her.
“Ryan?” Eliza said simply, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh. Yeah.” Mara blushed a little. “I didn’t tell you guys. We sort of got into an argument the other day. He said he didn’t think David was right for me.”
“Chica.” Jacqui shook her head. “Do you really think Ryan’s impartial?”
Mara couldn’t help but smile at Jacqui’s sagelike pronouncement. But could it be true? Could it be that Ryan had said those things about David because he was jealous?
“He was your first love.” Eliza sighed. “You just don’t get over those,” she added softly, staring off into the distance.
Mara looked at her critically. “You miss Jeremy,” she said. Of course Eliza did.
Before Eliza could say anything, the kitchen door swung open and Suzy entered. She was wearing a red silk bathrobe that was the same color as her hair, and her usual frizz was even wilder than usual, sticking up all over the place.
“Don’t mind me,” she said cheerfully. “Just getting a glass of water.” She pulled a Fiji bottle out of the fridge and turned to the girls. “Mara, Jacqui, I just want to say thank you so much for all your work this summer. The kids just adore you guys. I really can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome,” Mara said. “They’re great kids.”
“I know.” Suzy sighed. “They really are.” She sat down at the counter next to the girls, and Eliza shuffled over a little to make room for her. It was starting to get a bit crowded. Suzy absentmindedly reached for one of the potato chips and started munching on it noisily. “I realized how much of their childhoods I’m missing, so I’m going to cut back on my work hours a bit. The market needs me, but the kids need their mother more.”
“That’s wonderful, Suzy.” Jacqui smiled. She’d known it was only a matter of time before Suzy realized her mother-as-manager theory was not the way to raise children.
“It’s about time. I really shouldn’t outsource everything.” Suzy shrugged, putting the chips down and getting up from the counter, her moment of soul-searching apparently over.
“What else have you been outsourcing?” Eliza asked, suspicious.
“God, the house.” Suzy rubbed her eyes. “I mean, I just wanted a nice little beach house. We hired this really pushy decorating team. And I turn around and I get this … this …”
“Mega-mansion.”
“Castle.”
“Fortress.”
“Right.” Suzy nodded. She raised an eyebrow. “Do you guys really think I would commission a copy of the Pietà for my front lawn?” The girls laughed. Suzy smiled. “Good night, girls,” she called as she headed back upstairs, her red robe billowing out behind her.
“She’s really not so bad,” Jacqui declared.
“I guess not,” Eliza said grudgingly. She had still hoped that her parents would get back together, but as a stepmother, Suzy really wasn’t too bad.
“I love you guys,” Mara said suddenly. “I’m sorry about how I was acting this summer. I wish I’d gone to some of those parties. They sounded fun.”
“Me too,” Jacqui added, tears springing to her eyes. “I mean, I love you guys too. And the parties were fun,” she added, a playful gleam in her eyes.
“Well, I never think friends need to apologize,” Eliza said slyly. “It’s just understood.”
They hugged each other tightly, not wanting to let go for a long time. With good friends and potato chips, who needed boys?
jeremy is mr. right,
just not right now
IT WAS ALMOST THREE IN THE MORNING WHEN ELIZA drove up to the Greyson estate after her late-night snack with the girls, but there was a light shining in the kitchen. Apparently someone else couldn’t sleep.
She knocked on the door and after a minute Jeremy appeared, wearing old jeans with holes in the knees and a worn-out white Hanes tee. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he looked exhausted. He leaned his head against the door frame so that their faces were only five inches apart but separated by the screen. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the silence of the night.
“Can I come in?” Eliza asked in a low whisper.
Jeremy stepped wordlessly aside, and she followed him into the living room. There were several couches in the room, still covered in plastic. He’d picked out the Mies van der Rohe collection—black leather modern couches that she had once admired in a catalog. He took a seat in an Eames lounge chair and she sat on the plastic of the couch across from him, almost sliding off the slippery covering.
“Why haven’t you unpacked?” she asked, unable to think of anything to say but the obvious. “How do you live like this?”
“I’m renting it out,” he said. “You’re right—it’s too big for a bachelor pad.”
“Jer—”
“Eliza, I don’t want to hear it,” he said abruptly. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”
Eliza nodded, understanding why he was still upset. She ran her fingers through her hair, and took a deep breath. “It was wrong of me to accept that ring,” she said. “I just didn’t let the implications sink in at the time. Because I was afraid of what it meant. And I was afraid that if I didn’t, I would lose you.”
He sat there, stony-faced, for a long time. The crickets sang outside, and moonlight poured in through the window. He sighed. “Part of it is my fault too. I guess I got caught up in it. That ring was the first thing I bought with the money from the Greyson estate. I just thought—here it is. Here’s my chance to make Eliza happy.” He pulled at the plastic covering the arm of his chair. “And I knew it was too soon—which is why I didn’t say anything, I just put it on your finger. Because if you went along with it, I thought maybe …”
“Oh, Jer …”
“I know.” He smiled ruefully.
“And here I thought I was the one with all the doubts.”
“Nah. It’s not like I’ve got it all figured ou
t.”
“Thank God.” She sighed heavily, smiling as she got up to sit on his lap. He cradled her in his arms and she tucked her head underneath his chin. He smelled warm and woodsy. She relaxed in his arms. Who needed to meet or date any other boys when you’d found your one true love already? So what if they met so young? It only meant they could grow up together. Everyone should be so lucky.
He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, as if trying to catch up on everything he’d been missing.
She pulled her head out of the crook of his neck so she could look at him. “I wanted you to know, I’m going to Princeton in the fall. There’s so much I want to learn and do….” His warm brown eyes were locked on hers. He looked surprised but not unhappy. “And I hope we can do it together. But the question is, can you wait?” she asked quietly. She suddenly felt like a little girl, curled up on his lap, waiting helplessly for his answer. “Will you wait for me?”
“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” Jeremy promised, grabbing her hand and kissing it right where her ring would have sat. His answer was everything she’d wanted all along—a promise of forever, not a diamond ring. Jeremy cupped her face in his hands and they leaned in for a long, intense kiss. Eliza felt every part of her relax. This was right. This was home.
When they finally pulled apart, she smiled up at him wickedly. “So, um, whatever happened to that ring?”
the more things change,
the more they
stay the same
THERE WAS A MOVING TRUCK PARKED IN FRONT OF THE Perry manor when Mara drove up to it the next morning. Movers were loading cardboard boxes and crates into the truck. Several oversize objects stuck out on the driveway—Ryan’s surfboards, Anna’s Marie Antoinette vanity.
Mara parked the Lexus and walked up to the front door, where she found Ryan directing the men on how to move the art installations.