Page 2 of Crazy Hot


  “Nice to meet you, Violet,” Eliza called out. She couldn’t help but mentally compare Suzy’s passel of wunderkids to the Perry kids and their many developmental problems.

  “Are you the au pair?” Violet looked at Eliza quizzically.

  “No.” Eliza shook her head. “No, I’m not.” And then she smiled. Even if the Finnemores did seem like perfect children, she knew all too well that looks can be awfully deceiving.

  jacqui discovers that

  even the best-laid plans

  often go awry

  JACQUI VELASCO WOKE UP TO THE BRIGHT JUNE SUN shining through the window of her Upper East Side studio. She took one glance at the purple NYU sticker on the glass and smiled. It was going to be a great day. Every day was a great day ever since she’d gotten accepted into NYU. Finally. Her fifth year at St. Grace had been absolute torture—she’d had to take precalculus to finish the math requirements and qualify for admission—but it had all been worth it when she received the fat envelope she’d been waiting for since last April. Jacqui threw her arms above her head with a big yawn, gave the sticker a little kiss, and started to get ready.

  She was officially in, officially accepted, and ready to begin her freshman year in September. Tuition was expensive, and as a foreign student Jacqui hadn’t gotten much financial aid, but thankfully one more summer with the Perrys would take care of her contribution for her first year. She pulled on one of her usual kid-friendly-but-still-New-York-savvy outfits—comfortable but skintight J Brand skinny jeans with a long cotton tunic (machine washable for spit-up stains), and a pair of French Sole ballet flats—and tied her long, ebony locks back into a practical ponytail.

  Jacqui headed out the door and toward the Perrys’ town house, just a short walk away. The family was leaving for the Hamptons the next day, and Jacqui had to make sure all the kids were packed and ready to go. There were only three of them this time—the girls, thirteen-year-old Madison and nine-year-old Zoë, were spending the summer at an Australian tennis camp, which left only William, Cody, and new baby Eloise.

  “Hey, everybody! I’m here!” she called as she closed the Perrys’ town house door behind her. But when she made her way into the living room, she was met with not the usual “everybody” but instead a very odd assortment of people.

  Ten fat, matronly women, to be exact. All of them with ruddy, chubby cheeks and sweet cherubic smiles. Add flat hats, carpetbags, and black umbrellas, and you would have ten Mary Poppinses.

  Jacqui’s skin prickled in warning. What was going on here?

  “Uh, hi,” she addressed the group, closing the door behind her and shoving the front door key back into her purse.

  “Hello, dear, are you here about the position?” one of the women asked in a cheerful British accent. She looked Jacqui up and down. “What part of London are you from? You don’t look like a local.”

  “London?” Jacqui echoed, a foreboding feeling rising in her chest. “No, I—where’s Anna?” She didn’t wait for an answer and instead strode purposefully through the room and toward the heart of the house. William, twelve and already almost as tall as she was, rolled down the marble hallway on his skateboard. He looked more like his big brother, Ryan, every day. “Hey, Bill—where’s Anna?”

  William gestured toward the kitchen as he kept rolling by.

  Jacqui quickened her steps, practically running into Madison as she turned the corner. Madison looked trim in her tennis whites, swinging a Dunlop racket. Her face lit up when she saw Jacqui. “Hey! I’m leaving for Sydney tonight, but I hope you come visit!”

  “To Sydney?” Jacqui winked. “How about I see you when you get back.”

  “When I get back?” Madison’s brow furrowed. She strummed a finger along the taut strings of her tennis racket. “Anna hasn’t told you?”

  “Told me what?” The anxious feeling in Jacqui’s chest began to expand.

  “That’s just like her and Dad. Ugh!” Madison leaned in and gave Jacqui a quick, close hug. “But anyway, don’t forget—e-mail me!” With that she trotted off, swinging her racket lightly as she went.

  Jacqui shook her shoulders and continued to the kitchen, where she found Anna looking flustered, holding her phone close to her ear and scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. Baby Eloise sat in her high chair, cheerfully throwing rice cereal everywhere, but Anna didn’t seem to notice.

  Anna held up a manicured fingernail when she saw Jacqui, mouthing, “One second.” Jacqui immediately went to work, wiping Eloise’s mouth and tray and scooping the baby up as she began to cry. She was bouncing her on her hip when Anna finally snapped her phone shut.

  “Jacqui, you’re here. Thank God. It’s been such a horrid morning. Of course everything has to happen at the last minute.” Anna rubbed her temples and took a gulp of coffee from the mug in front of her.

  “What’s going on? Who are all those people in the foyer?” Jacqui was both dying to know and totally afraid to hear the answer.

  “Oh, right—they’re candidates. Of course I have to find a baby nurse and a nanny in less than twenty-four hours!” Anna sighed in her usual melodramatic fashion.

  “Excuse me?” Jacqui started. A nanny? Wasn’t that pretty much her job?

  “Didn’t we tell you—oh, of course not. You weren’t here last week,” Anna said a bit peevishly.

  Last week Jacqui had gone to Brazil to visit her family, a belated graduation gift from the Perrys. She’d spent the week bonding with her grandmother in São Paulo and her family in Campinas, getting reacquainted with her younger brothers—whom, she thought sadly, she knew less about than Cody and William. It was great of the Perrys to pay for her ticket, but why was it that every time they did something nice for her, there was a catch?

  Anna took out her bottle of Vicodin and popped two pills. She’d scheduled a C-section to deliver Eloise and then had liposuction and a tummy tuck (apparently standard procedure with Upper East Side deliveries), but that had been nine months ago and she was still hoovering painkillers. “The fact is, we’re moving to London,” Anna said crisply, taking a sip of water. “Kevin’s opening up a branch of the law firm there, and we’ve got to move immediately. Some big trial or something to do with the royal family and Diana’s butler.” Anna closed the Vicodin container and rolled her eyes, although Jacqui knew there was nothing her employer liked better than to drop (clang!) such big names. “And we’ve been invited to Highgrove for some big dinner—you know, with the Prince of Wales.” This time there was giggling to accompany the name-dropping. “It’s tomorrow night. I wonder if Camilla is as much of a bow-wow as she is in pictures?”

  “Oh.” Jacqui was startled. “London? Tomorrow?”

  “I know, it’s a shock to me too, but Kevin’s already found us the most darling little pad near Hyde Park.” Anna finally noticed the rice cereal Eloise had been throwing and moved the bowl out of her reach. “It’s next to Madonna and Guy!” (Clang! Clang!) She turned to face Jacqui again. “Be a dear and help me with the interviews—you know the kids so well, you can pick a good replacement, can’t you?”

  For a moment, Jacqui was too stunned to say anything. She froze, trying to process everything Anna had just said.

  “I really am sorry, but it looks like we won’t be needing you this summer after all, especially since we need someone who can stick out the whole year, and with you off to college and all …” Anna’s shoulders rose in an exaggerated shrug, and she knit her eyebrows in concern. “But I hope this will cover it….” She fished out an envelope from her red patent leather Jimmy Choo Ramona handbag and extended it toward Jacqui. “It’s not for the whole three months—more like a severance.”

  Jacqui automatically stuck out her hand and took the envelope, mumbling, “Thank you.” She stood there numbly, her arm still extended, unable to move.

  Anna waved a hand. “And of course we’ll need the keys back to the studio. But take your time. Kevin’s decided to sublet it for the summer, but you can take two weeks to find a new
place.” She squeezed Jacqui’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a great reference, and you shouldn’t have a problem finding another family in the city to work for.”

  Anna’s cell phone rang, and she smiled at Jacqui and nodded definitively, as if to say, “We’re done here.” She picked up her cell phone and resumed her busy travel arrangements.

  Jacqui nodded, her throat dry. Just like that, in one fell swoop, she was unemployed and homeless. What now?

  mara finds it’s a lonesome

  planet indeed

  MARA WATERS HUSTLED THROUGH JFK WITH A BRISK, confident step. She’d just finished her first year at Columbia, acing all her finals and scoring an almost perfect GPA. She smiled just thinking about it. Mara had quickly discovered she was one of those girls who were made for college. In high school she’d been “just Mara”—pretty smart, pretty nice, pretty average all around. But with the polish and poise she’d gained from summers in the Hamptons—not to mention discovering the wonders of butterscotch highlights and professional eyebrow tweezing—she had turned into “that Mara.”

  As in, that Mara who had thrown the biggest bash the dorm had ever seen (what better training than those numerous Hamptons soirees?). That Mara who had the best clothes of any freshman—hello, her best friend was Eliza Thompson, up-and-coming designer. And that Mara who’d snagged the best internship in the city freshman year. Her old boss from Hamptons magazine had been true to her word and had put her on staff at Metropolitan Circus.

  “You got everything?” David’s voice broke into her thoughts. She adjusted the handle on her bag, hoping that it wouldn’t burst open to reveal all of her underwear to the entire airport. “With a bag that overstuffed, I certainly hope so,” he teased, and kept on walking.

  That Mara was also dating “the David.” As in, the David who was editor in chief of the Spectator, the college newspaper, as well as the David who lived off campus in his own sweet bachelor pad in Trump Place, with a view of the Hudson River from his bedroom window. The David who was president of St. Anthony’s Hall—better known as St. A.’s—the snobbiest and most elite fraternity on campus, with its sprawling mansion on Riverside Drive.

  And that Mara and the David made the perfect couple, particularly because they had all of the same interests. David was an aspiring writer as well, and Mara thought that if they ended up together, they could have one of those Joan Didion-John Dunne relationships—editing and critiquing each other’s work while vacationing at the Four Seasons in Maui.

  “Wait up! It’s no fair—you’ve got longer legs!” She giggled as she quickened her pace and tried to catch up with him, her rolling suitcase jostling around behind her as she went.

  They were off to Brussels, the first stop on their Lonesome Planet agenda. The two of them had been picked to write the latest European edition of the student-friendly travel guidebook, and Mara was looking forward to spending the whole summer in the most romantic places on earth with David—discovering the hidden treasures of Florence, Venice, Paris, London, Prague, and a host of other fabulous cities. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face when she thought of it: the two of them comparing notes, writing pieces, and sharing everything from croissants to gondola rides. Okay, so maybe the gondolas were a bit of a fantasy—the Lonesome Planet guides were specifically about the cheapest and most out-of-the-way locations, which meant they wouldn’t exactly be splurging on tourist attractions or staying in five-star hotels. But still …

  “Mar, we have to hurry!” David called back to her as they raced up to the check-in counter. Mara bounded up beside him and he placed their bags on the scale.

  “We’re on the ten thirty to Brussels,” Mara said breathlessly. “We have e-tickets.”

  The airline employee gave them a brisk nod. “May I see your passports, please?”

  David slid his forward while Mara fished in her purse, finally pulling hers out and placing it on the counter with a loud thwack. While the agent looked over their passports David leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, stroking her sleeve.

  “This one is fine,” the agent said, handing David’s passport back to him along with a boarding pass. “But this one is expired.” She pointed to Mara’s beaten-up passport, which she’d gotten ages ago but had barely used until the past few years. “Do you have your new one?”

  “Oh no!” Mara exclaimed.

  “You didn’t!” David’s face fell. “I told you.”

  He had. He had left sticky notes all over her dorm room reminding her to make sure her passport was current—with exclamation points and the occasional smiley face. She had used it last during her trip to Cabo with the girls and she’d been sure it was still good and had meant to check, but with finals, and finals parties, and, well …

  The people in line behind them shuffled their bags forward, antsy to get their boarding passes. “Hey, what’s the holdup?” an angry-looking woman with a mop of frizzy dark hair asked crabbily.

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Mara felt herself flush red as she grabbed her bag again and they stepped away from the counter.

  “We’re going to miss our flight.” David’s forehead wrinkled in concern.

  “Hey.” Mara cupped his face in her hands. “I know it sucks, but it’ll be fine. I’ll get a new one tomorrow, and we’ll only be delayed a day.”

  David smiled and seemed to relax. “You’re right,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call the Lonesome Planet office and let them know what happened.” He dialed and placed the phone to his ear. “It’s ringing,” he whispered, cupping a hand over the speaker. “Hi, can I have the assignment office, please? It’s David Preston. Listen, there’s been a little problem ….”

  He walked away as he talked to their editor, pacing back and forth. Mara thought she heard him raising his voice, but she bit her lip and focused on the departures board, patiently waiting until he came back.

  She watched as David snapped the phone shut and walked back to her, his brow wrinkled again. “What did they say?”

  “Well, it’s sort of complicated.” David looked down and started to play with the tag on Mara’s luggage. “It’s Saturday, and the post office is closed. So the earliest you can get it renewed is Monday, which means the earliest we can leave is Tuesday. We’re supposed to have covered Brussels and be in Madrid by then.”

  “So … what does that mean exactly?” Mara wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “The three days throw off their schedule completely. Everything’s already pre-booked. And they’ve got someone who can cover for you. She’s already in Brussels.” David put a hand on her arm. “Mara, I’m sorry, but … they fired you.”

  Mara felt the tears start to bubble up in her eyes. He brought her in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

  “How could they?” she whispered, nuzzling David’s shoulder. She stepped back and shook her shoulders, trying to regroup. They could still have a great summer. They were together, and that was all that mattered. “Well, it’s not the end of the world…. We can still travel Europe together … and now we don’t have to stay in all those dumpy hostels!” She looked up at David, hoping to find him smiling.

  Instead, he looked worried. He glanced down at his watch.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said flatly, realizing there was only one reason he’d be checking the time.

  “Mar—”

  “I mean, you’re still thinking of going? After they fired me for a tiny little mistake?” She felt herself go pale with shock.

  “I mean … it’s sort of a big mistake, Mar. And I did remind you to get your passport renewed,” he pointed out. “About a hundred times.”

  “You know how busy I was!” Mara heard herself start to whine. “I had that story due for the magazine and my dinosaurs final!” Like many English majors, Mara was fulfilling Columbia’s two-semester science requirement by taking a class on prehistoric reptiles. So far she’d only used the course information to compa
re her college acquaintances to the various species of dinosaurs. Her professor was a total stegosaurus—hunchbacked and scaly.

  “Mar, I’m really sorry. But you know this is a huge opportunity for me…. If I want to get a job at the Times after graduation, they’re really going to look at what I did with my summers. I’d be writing a whole book!”

  “It’s a guidebook,” Mara corrected, feeling herself start to pout.

  “It’s a start.” He checked his watch again. “Look, if I don’t go now, I’ll miss my flight.”

  “It was our flight just a few seconds ago,” Mara said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  “I know this totally blows, but I swear, if you were in the same position, I would understand. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on this chance.” He grabbed her hand, his eyes pleading. “Please, Mara. It’s something I really feel I need to do.”

  “If it were me, you’d just let me go?” Mara asked skeptically.

  David shrugged. “I would never get in the way of your dreams.” He looked down at the floor again. “You know, maybe part of you just didn’t want this that much. I mean, if you had, you would have remembered to renew your passport, right?” He looked up and into her eyes, and she watched him transform from loving boyfriend to ambitious young writer. “This is a job, Mara, not a vacation. Maybe you’re just … not cut out to be a journalist.”

  Mara was speechless. Didn’t want this that much? She was the one who had found the listing on the college job board! The one who had hounded the two of them to apply! She was the one who’d never been to Europe before!

  David rocked back and forth on his New Balance sneakers, waiting for her to say something.

  She sighed. “Go,” she said finally.

  “Yeah?” He tilted his head and looked into her eyes. “You’re okay, right?”

  “Just go, David.” She nodded, a defeated half smile curving her lips. He was right. She didn’t want to stand in the way of his dreams, and it was her fault for not being more responsible. It was totally unfair that one little mistake would cost her an entire summer, but Mara had lived long enough to realize that sometimes, the Rolling Stones were right on the money—you can’t always get what you want.