something’s about to blow
THE NEXT MORNING, JACQUI AND MARA WOKE UP TO the sound of an explosive crack.
“Merda!” Jacqui said, throwing off the covers and looking out the window.
“What’s going on?” Mara asked.
It had been raining for several days now, but nothing like this. The wind howled and raged against the windowpanes, and the two of them had gotten dressed in silence, since Jacqui still wasn’t talking to Mara. They ran into the main house, where Laurie had already turned on the television to the news channel. Hurricane Tiffany was coming in from North Carolina, but instead of moving over land and weakening, as had been predicted, it was moving over water and picking up speed.
“It’s going to hit tonight,” Laurie said grimly. “We’re going to have to get the house ready. Where are the kids?”
Philippe helped Laurie find the storm windows in the basement and started hammering them on the sills.
A quick reconnaissance of the pantry revealed a lack of fresh water and other supplies, so Laurie called Ryan on his cell phone and told him to go to the nearest Home Depot and stock up on bottled water, flashlights, batteries, candles, towels, canned goods, and other sundries.
Zoë ran up to Mara. “I’m scared,” she said.
“It’s going to be all right, sweetie,” Mara said, hugging the little girl. “Just let me go a minute.”
Even as the rest of Long Island was battening down for a major hurricane, the relentless business of publicity marched on. Now that Mara had been knocked off her pedestal and was rumored to have been dumped by Garrett Reynolds, all the designers wanted their clothes back. Pronto. Which meant Mara spent half the day tracking down flashlights and towels and the other half running back to her room and handing back all the shopping bags to the messengers. It was all so humbling and shameful, especially when one of Mitzi’s assistants had arrived to tally up the total, just to make sure everything was there and accounted for.
“This Chloé blouse hasn’t been cleaned,” the assistant said rudely, checking it off of a list. “Okay, so we’re just missing the Sally Hershberger jeans, the rhinestone Blahniks, and the Pucci scarf.” She sighed.
“I don’t, um, have them,” Mara stammered, hating the way it sounded coming out of her mouth, especially after the earring scandal. The brown-uniformed man from the delivery company gave her a sympathetic look.
“Fine, I’ll just tell Mitzi you stole those, too,” the assistant said snidely as she opened her umbrella and stepped outside.
Jacqui couldn’t help but notice the parade out of the cottage. She held an armful of four-by-fours to help reinforce the front door and nodded to Mara as Mara led the assistant to the garage to pick up the BMW.
Poppy drove up in the car, and when she and Sugar heard that Mitzi had asked for it back, their matching faces contorted into a grimace. “What do you mean she wants it baaaaack?” Sugar whined at the publicist before giving back the keys. “We’re the ones using it now!”
“You really are an idiot, Plum,” Poppy complained, as they stood in the open garage, watching the BMW disappear down the driveway.
You have no idea, Mara thought.
eliza is an over-it girl
AT NOON THE SKY WAS PITCH BLACK, AND THE STREETS were deserted. Everyone had battened down the hatches to prepare for the worst storm of the year. Eliza stood on the deck of her rented house, in a yellow parka with the Spence crest on its front pocket, watching for Ryan in the Cayenne. Her family had asked her to get supplies, and Ryan had offered to pick her up.
Ryan threw open the passenger door. He too was wearing a yellow windbreaker with his school crest, jeans, and his usual flip-flops. He told her it was a mess back at the house—none of the flashlights were working, and they were short several storm windows. Plus the water had begun to trickle in the front door, and they were already out of towels.
“I know, you’d think the people who own our rental would have stuff, but they just have all this dinky crap,” Eliza said.
“Anna is having a nervous breakdown. She can’t live without her hair-dryer if the power goes out.”
Eliza giggled at that and, catching Ryan’s eye, they both chuckled again.
They drove slowly through the rain, and it seemed that every car on the highway was going their same direction. When they arrived, the parking lot at Home Depot was completely filled. Ryan managed to snag a spot just as a Bentley pulled out, a generator strapped to its roof.
The rain was coming down in huge droplets against the windowpane. The trees were bent backward by the wind. The storm howled and raged, shaking the SUV.
“God, look at that,” Ryan said, as the wind carried a beach umbrella through the parking lot.
“I know. It’s crazy.” Eliza nodded. “And you know what else is crazy?” she asked quietly.
“What?” he asked, clearly having no idea what she was about to say.
“You and me.”
Ryan’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”
Eliza looked at Ryan. His hair was pasted to his forehead, but he looked as gorgeous as ever. But in the end, they were just too comfortable around each other. Too similar. Eliza craved mystery, spontaneity, the kind of guy who would get a job as a valet at a party just to be close to her. As wonderful as Ryan was, he wasn’t that guy.
“You’re not in love with me,” Eliza said.
Ryan began to protest.
“And I’m not in love with you, either,” she interrupted.
“Ouch,” he joked, clutching his heart in faux pain.
“This summer—this summer was like, kind of weird, you know? I thought it was going to be the best time ever.” Eliza sank a little deeper into her seat. “I had this cool job—but it turned out to be totally worthless. I’d rather babysit kids than babysit celebrities. Believe me, even William is easier. Ever tried taking champagne away from a celebrity?” Eliza laughed.
“Eliza?”
“Yeah?” She turned to look at him.
“You’re the coolest girl I know.” Ryan leaned over and cupped her chin in his hands, then lowered her face so that his lips touched her forehead. “Friends?”
“Of course.” Eliza laughed. “Stop it, that tickles.”
They loved each other—as friends—and Eliza suddenly wanted to see her friend happy. She looked at Ryan again. He was tall, gorgeous, smart, rich, and her childhood friend—the kind of guy her parents always wanted her to end up with—but she knew they weren’t meant to be together.
Ryan hugged her, and as she pressed her cheek against his, she whispered, “I know you love me, but I also know you’re in love with someone else.”
He released her slowly and sighed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He picked at a cuticle.
“The girl we both love, the girl you’re in love with—she’s still there,” Eliza insisted. “Believe me, I’ve been pissed at her too, but she’s still in there.”
He shrugged. “Mara’s different now. She’s let the Hamptons get into her head. She’s changed.”
“Look, nobody who goes through the It Girl treatment comes out alive on the other side, you know? Believe me, I know. There’s not a girl in the world who wouldn’t get carried away. But I still believe in her. I haven’t told her that, because we’re kind of mad at each other right now. But I think the reason she broke up with you is because she didn’t think . . . well, she thinks she doesn’t deserve you.” It all came out in a rush, and Eliza didn’t dare look Ryan in the eye. She glanced at him now, but his face was still stony.
“She’s with Garrett now,” Ryan said flatly. In that one sentence, Eliza knew that what she’d said was true. Ryan was definitely still in love with Mara.
Eliza looked at Ryan. She was closer to him now than she’d ever been. Maybe the term friends with benefits had a deeper meaning than either of them had realized.
“Well, we better go in before it gets any worse,” Ryan said.
“And by the w
ay, Mara and Garrett broke up,” Eliza said. “I’m surprised your sisters didn’t say anything. Aren’t they totally hot for him?”
“Eliza, I don’t even know how we’re from the same family,” Ryan joked.
They ran into the Home Depot—but all the steel braces, wood reinforcements, tarps, hurricane lamps, candles, batteries, space heaters, generators, rope, nails, and sandbags were gone.
“What’s going on?” Eliza demanded of a nearby foreman wearing an orange vest.
The foreman shrugged. “We got a big order,” he said, waving toward a guy leaning against the counter and signing a huge credit card receipt. Garrett Reynolds looked up and waved at Ryan and Eliza.
oscar wilde said, “true friends stab you in the front”
POPPY WAS STILL SEETHING ABOUT THE LOSS OF “HER” car as she and Mara ran into the house to escape the battering winds.
“That is just so rude, I have never been treated so rudely. Do they know who I am?” Poppy whined as she struggled with her umbrella.
Mara was squeezing the water out of her wet hair when something bright and sparkly caught her eye. Something Poppy was wearing on her ears: Huge, fat rocks. Diamonds so big they pulled down on Poppy’s earlobes and so clear and perfect they glittered in dull of the entryway.
“Poppy,” Mara said, reaching out toward the earrings. “Where did you get those?”
Poppy’s hands immediately fluttered to her ears. “Oh, these? Uh . . . I . . . borrowed them from your dresser. I lent you my handbag and I figured, you know, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.” She giggled shrilly. “Why?” She was totally acting like she and Sugar hadn’t completely blown Mara off for the last couple of days, never mind that they had actually talked to Page Six about Mara and the earrings.
“Those aren’t mine,” Mara said, dumbfounded.
“They’re not?” Poppy fluttered her wet eyelashes innocently.
“They belong to Ivan. They’re worth a quarter of a million dollars. Haven’t you read Page Six? You were quoted in it. People think I stole them.”
Poppy feigned innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. C’mon, let’s go dry off. I’m freezing.”
“Wait a second. I need them back,” Mara said flatly, holding her hand out.
“Okay! Don’t be such a wench about it. Jeez,” Poppy said, pulling them out of her ears and brusquely laying them in Mara’s hand.
Mara just stared at her. She had never met anyone so relentlessly self-centered, so aggressively selfish, in her entire life. And this was the kind of person she’d spent the whole summer trying to impress. It was sickening how much time she’d wasted.
“Now, Plum, don’t be mad. I was just borrowing them!” Poppy said defensively.
“Don’t call me that!” Mara hissed, elbowing her aside and heading for the phone.
* * *
When the messenger picked up the earrings, Mara felt so relieved and deliriously happy, she had no idea what to do with herself. She felt liberated and free, and as she waved away the brown truck, she bumped into Jacqui, who was getting ready to run a few errands before the hurricane really hit.
“Jac! Oh God, Jac!” Mara said, rushing toward her and picking Jacqui’s arms up and twirling her around.
“What? What happened?” They hadn’t talked in more than a week, and she hadn’t seen Mara smile in that entire time.
“Jacqui! I’m so stupid. I’m so awful. I’m so sorry. Poppy—it was Poppy who took the earrings. I don’t know if they knew, I don’t know if it was deliberate. I think it was, but I’m so sorry I thought . . . you had . . . I must be insane. . . .”
Jacqui raised an eyebrow. The Perry twins. Of course. The twins’ bedrooms were the first place they should have looked for the earrings. “It’s okay,” she told Mara.
“I just want you to know that I’m really, really, really, really sorry,” Mara said. “Really, really, really—”
“Mara, look, I forgive you, all right?” Jacqui interrupted, taking her hand.
“It’s just, I feel so embarrassed. I wish it had never happened.”
“Listen, things happen for a reason. Don’t worry about it,” Jacqui said as she hugged Mara tightly. “But your apologies aren’t over, chica.”
Jacqui was right. They were just beginning.
there’s nothing sexier than a guy with a hammer
JUST AS RYAN AND ELIZA WERE ABOUT TO LEAVE THE Home Depot empty-handed and disillusioned, a friendly voice called over. “You guys looking to get some supplies?” Jeremy asked. He’d also been stymied by the Reynoldses’ great buyout. He walked over wearing a slick vinyl poncho and a crushed fisherman’s hat.
“They’re all out,” Eliza said.
“Yeah, but I know where we can get some,” he said. “There’s a Target in Riverhead, and they sell storm windows and everything there. Not many people in the Hamptons know about it, since it’s in the North Fork. You guys want to follow me? Take the highway north to the Riverhead exit and it’s right there.” He wiped his hands on his jeans, which were tucked into big rubber fishing boots.
Eliza nodded her thanks, and she and Ryan followed Jeremy as he drove down the flooded highway. There weren’t as many cars going in that direction, and they made good time.
Inside the Target, it was as if the hurricane wasn’t even happening. It was bright and cheerful, and all the shelves were stocked high with everything they needed. There were several other people shopping, but there was plenty to go around, and they all just smiled conspiratorially at one another.
“Who’s going to put up your windows?” Jeremy asked Eliza as they both took some lanterns and heating oil.
“My dad,” Eliza said, even though her dad was like, seventy years old.
“I’ll do it,” Jeremy said quietly. “Look, man, I’ll just drive Eliza home,” Jeremy said, turning to Ryan. “Her house is on the way to mine, anyway.”
“Okay with you, E?” Ryan asked.
“That’s fine, actually,” Eliza said, her heart beating fast.
Ryan gave Eliza a quick hug. “Good luck. Stay dry!” he said to both of them.
Eliza climbed into Jeremy’s pickup truck. The seats were battered leather, and it was nothing like the Porsche Cayenne’s sleek leather upholstery or heads-up dashboard display—but it smelled like the earth, piney and loamy, like Jeremy. She loved that smell.
They drove in silence back to Eliza’s Westhampton rental, where her parents were frantic with worry. Without a staff to command, the Thompsons had no idea what to do. The television had already gone out and the lights were off, but Jeremy soon found the circuit breaker in the basement and flipped the right switch.
“Oh thank God,” Eliza’s mother said, tugging at the pearls around her neck anxiously.
“I don’t know how long we’ll have the juice, but we might as well use it while we have it,” Jeremy said. “Power’ll probably go out soon.”
Eliza watched as Jeremy expertly put up all the windows, hammering and pushing and figuring out the complicated instructions. She hoped her parents could see what she saw in him.
He was working on the attic bedroom windows when she brought him a bottle of water. “It’s not cold, I’m sorry.”
“No, this is good, thanks,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. He leaned against the bracing and put his body into it. The joint snapped right into the window, and he smiled in satisfaction. “There, that should do it. You guys have enough towels, right? And a radio?”
“We have a little battery-powered Sony Watchman—my dad found it in the basement. So I think we’ll be okay,” Eliza said.
Jeremy nodded. “That’s good.” He sat down on the floor and gulped down the water.
“What happened to you this summer?” Eliza asked, sitting next to him on the carpet.
“What happened to me? What happened to you?” Jeremy said, peeling the label of the water off.
“I don’t know—you like, pushed me away. I didn’t thi
nk you wanted me anymore,” she said. “You never called. You didn’t even want to see me.”
“Eliza, the only reason I took that internship at Morgan Stanley was so I could be someone you could respect. Someone from your . . . world,” Jeremy said, making quotation marks with his fingers when he said “world.”
“You did that for me?”
“I did, but it turned out I still wasn’t good enough. Your parents made that pretty clear at dinner. I figured, I’d never change their minds about me, so why should I even bother?” He shrugged.
“Why bother?” Eliza said, incredulous. “Because I don’t think like my parents do, that’s why. And that’s pretty shitty to judge someone based on their family,” she said. “People can’t help where they come from.”
Jeremy looked embarrassed, but then he said, “Yeah, but then I heard about you and Ryan, so . . .” He trailed off.
It was Eliza’s turn to looked embarrassed.
“I missed you,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I missed you too,” he agreed. “I saw you on TV last night,” he offered, unexpectedly lightly.
“You did? Where?” Eliza asked, surprised.
“On Sugar’s show. You were asking for a dress back and she wouldn’t give it to you.” He chuckled. “And at the end some old French designer guy in big black glasses was saying that he would never dress Sugar Perry again. It was pretty funny.”
“Karl Lagerfeld?” Eliza asked, but Jeremy just shrugged. Maybe Sugar would get her comeuppance after all. Eliza looked at Jeremy. Even talking about some stupid TV show, he was still ten times more soulful than anyone else she’d ever met. She’d missed him so much.
“It’s just . . . you were always so busy,” she said, tentatively pulling at the bottom of his pant leg.
“Yeah, no kidding. I hated that job. Anyway, I quit. You can’t believe the amount of bullshit you need to put up with. I’m working at the Perrys’ again next summer.”