Eliza nodded. That was so like a celebrity. She could have forty million in the bank, but she really needed that Kiehl's lip balm and Swarovski-crystal-encrusted Sidekick.
"We need to follow up on a couple of items today, too--we lent several girls a few dresses to wear, and we need to get them
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back. Just send the usual messengers. We do have a special case, however. Sugar Perry has a Chanel, and we need to get it back for Karl's show in Paris tomorrow. It's really important, since it's the only sample we have right now. Eliza, you know Sugar, right? Can you handle that personally?"
"Sure," Eliza said, trying not to roll her eyes.
Pulling into the Perrys' driveway, she was glad to see that Ryan's car wasn't there. Last night, Ryan had called her cell phone six times, but she hadn't picked up, and she'd deleted his messages without listening to them.
After throwing her drink at Ryan last night, she'd run out of the club in tears, and right into Jeremy and Carolyn. He'd tried to grab her arm, but she'd kept walking. It was funny how things worked out: All she'd wanted was to be with Jeremy this summer, and now here he was with someone else, and here she was, crying over a guy who wasn't even him. Except that on the ride home, the woods dark on either side of the car as she sped through night, she'd stopped crying about Ryan and started crying about Jeremy.
Eliza rang the doorbell and asked the butler for Sugar. She braced herself for a fight. Sugar Perry wasn't the kind of girl who would give up a one-of-a-kind couture dress that easily.
Sure enough, when Eliza walked into Sugar's all-white bedroom, the first thing Sugar said was, "Who let you in?" She was wearing a sheer T-shirt and boy-shorts, and the reality-TV cameramen were taping her every move.
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Eliza shrugged. "Mitzi wants the dress back."
"What dress?" Sugar asked innocently, doing back-bends. Sugar had been up since dawn, doing sun salutations. She always got up early, regardless of a hangover.
"The Chanel. It's the only one, and we need it for Karl's show."
"Oh, that one," Sugar said. "I don't know where it is."
"You lost it?" Eliza asked, incredulous. "I mean, you wore it home, didn't you?"
"I suppose." Sugar giggled. "I don't remember."
"Listen, Sugar, I really don't care. I'm just doing my job. Could we get the dress back? It's not yours, you know."
"Fine," Sugar said. She opened the door to her dressing room and rooted in the pile of clothes on the floor. She tossed a shredded silk rag at Eliza.
"Oh my God," Eliza said. "It's ruined."
"Charlie stepped on the train, and I think Poppy burned a hole in it with her cigarette. Sorry!" Sugar smiled fakely.
Eliza held up the pale pink Chanel dress to the camera. She couldn't believe anyone could be so reckless, even someone as spoiled as Sugar Perry. "You know Daria Werbowy is supposed to wear it on the runway tomorrow! Mitzi told you to be careful!" Eliza spat at her.
"I was careful. It wasn't my fault, okay?" Sugar said impatiently. "Besides, can't he just, like, make another dress? I mean, that's what designers do, right?"
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Eliza stuffed the dress into a brown paper bag, pushing past the cameramen. Eliza knew Mitzi would be furious, and that she, rather than Sugar, would bear the brunt of her fury. Celebrity trumped all else. That much Eliza had learned this summer.
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the best things in life are . . . covered by insurance? (let's hope!)
WHEN MARA ARRIVED BACK FROM HER DAY OF BABYSITTING, she was still seething that Jacqui hadn't told her about Eliza and Ryan. She'd hardly seen Eliza all summer, but she'd slept in the same room as Jacqui almost every night.
"Ivan Jewelers called for you," Laurie said, as Mara shooed the kids into their playroom.
"Oh?"
"They sent a messenger this afternoon to pick up some . . . earrings? But you hadn't left a package or anything, so I sent them away."
The earrings. The two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar earrings. Right. Mitzi had told her they would send someone to pick them up the day after the party. She'd completely forgotten.
Mara ran out to the au pairs' cottage. The message light next to the answering machine was blinking.
"Mara, hiii! It's Mitzi. You were gorgeous last night, dollink! Anyway, hon, I gotta get those earrings back to Ivan. Put them in
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the case and just leave them with your assistant so the messenger can pick them up. Thanks! Bye-yeee."
"Mara, hiiii! It's Mitzi again. Listen, hon, the messenger says there wasn't a package for him at the house. You must have forgotten. Call me and let me know--Ivan really needs them because J.Lo is going to wear them to the MTV Music Video Awards. Thanks, sweetie. Bye-yeee."
Mara ransacked her dresser. She swore she'd taken them off when she got back to the cottage that morning and put them in the little velvet case next to Jacqui's watch, but when she opened the case, they weren't there. They weren't in her other jewelry box, either, or on the sink, where she sometimes put the Mikimoto pearls. Could she have left them at Garrett's the night before?
She called Garrett and explained the situation. "Nope, nothing here. The only thing missing from this room is you, doll face," Garrett drawled.
She hung up on him, frantic.
Could Megan have taken them? No way, Megan had left before Mara arrived home--and please, her sister? She was so honest she'd actually called Target to tell them they hadn't charged her for something she'd ordered. Could she have lost them at the fashion show? Earrings didn't just fall out, did they?
She was certain she had taken them off right when she arrived that morning--right after seeing Ryan--but why weren't they there?
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The phone rang. Mara picked it up. "Hello?"
"Mara! Dollink! So glad I caught you. Listen, can you leave those earrings in a package for pickup tomorrow? Thanks, doll!"
"Sure," Mara said weakly, her stomach churning. She'd signed for them so blithely, agreeing to legal and financial responsibility for the value of the earrings in case of loss or theft. But this must happen all the time, right? Mara remembered reading something about Paris Hilton losing a diamond bracelet at some club.
But then, Paris was famous, and as Mara had come to see at the fashion show, she ... wasn't.
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with friends like these, who needs the perry twins?
JACQUI RETURNED FROM MONTAUK MUCH LATER IN THE
afternoon, since Philippe had taken the car last night without any thought as to how Jacqui was going to get home herself. She'd had to take the bus, which took a winding route and stopped roughly every five seconds. The many hours she spent in transit gave Jacqui ample time to feel incredibly stupid about risking everything just to be with Philippe, especially when he had been Anna's boy toy all along. She was angry at herself for not sticking to her resolution and disappointed that she'd believed Philippe when he'd said there was nothing going on between him and Anna. But they hadn't been caught--not really, anyway--and even if Anna had Philippe, at least everything else was still going to work out, especially the job in New York.
When she got back, she found the au pairs' room in chaos and Mara in the middle of the mess, looking frantic, her hair awry; the sheets, pillows, and blankets piled haphazardly on the perimeter; and all of Jacqui's clothes, shoes, scarves, bikinis, underwear, tissues, and magazines laid out on the bed.
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"Merda! What on earth? Mara, what are you doing!?"
"You!" Mara accused, looking up from her search. She forgot the earrings for a moment. There was something more important she wanted to confront Jacqui about. "You knew all along, didn't you?"
"Me? What? What are you talking about?" Jacqui said, confused.
"Ryan and Eliza. You were there in Palm Beach. You knew they'd hooked up. And you never told me?"
"Hang on. Hang on," Jacqui said, stepping slowly into the room as if Mara were a cornered and dangerous animal.
"You knew, didn't you?" Mara demanded, her eyes flashing with anger.
"About Ryan and Eliza? Yes, I did. Mara, I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you ... I just didn't think it was my business--"
Mara recoiled. "I would have told you if it was your boyfriend!"
Jacqui blinked. "Mara, he wasn't your boyfriend. You broke up with him, remember?"
Mara didn't have an answer to that. Instead, she made a throaty noise and resumed her search.
"But what is going on here?" Jacqui asked, taking another careful step into the room, holding up her hands like Mara might attack at any second. "Why is the place all torn up?"
"I am looking--for--my--earrings!" Mara said in an agonized voice.
"O . . . kay . . ." Jacqui said, still holding up her hands. "What earrings?"
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"The ones Ivan the Jeweler lent me. The ones I wore last night. Nicole Kidman wore them at the Oscars. They're worth two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And they need them back, like, tomorrow."
"The ones you were wearing last night?" Jacqui asked slowly.
"Yes." Mara nodded impatiently. Was Jacqui hard of hearing?
"They cost that much?"
"Yes."
"Shit," Jacqui said, beginning to sort through the pile on the bed and help Mara look for them.
"They're not lost. I had them on this morning. I took them off--and put them--there," Mara said, motioning to the dresser. "And now they're gone. Did you see them?"
"No. I mean ..." Jacqui stammered, rooting through a pile of underwear. How could Mara be so careless? "I don't know. . . . I wasn't looking. ... I just got here."
"Strange, you always seem to know where everything else is," Mara snipped, looking pointedly at the Pucci scarf Jacqui was wearing in her hair.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that it's incredibly strange, isn't it? They were here when I left--but they're not here when I got back. And you seem to feel fine helping yourself to the rest of my things, so--"
"Are you suggesting that I took them?" Jacqui asked, not quite sure if she'd understood Mara's English correctly.
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"I'm just saying they're not here. And you're the only one who has the key to this room aside from me."
Jacqui had never been so insulted in her life. She stared at Mara, who suddenly seemed like a stranger to her.
"Maybe you took them," Jacqui said coldly, wanting to say the meanest thing she could think of to Mara.
"Why would I?" Mara asked, alarmed.
Jacqui shrugged. She put down the stack of clothes she was sorting through. She wasn't about to help Mara do anything.
Just then, the door opened, and Eliza entered, not realizing she was walking into a landmine.
"Oh, look! Another lying slut," Mara said. She'd had enough time to get really worked up about Eliza and Ryan while she'd been desperately searching. "You probably took the earrings just to spite me or something."
"What are you talking about?" Eliza asked, confused.
Jacqui quickly explained about the earrings.
"Listen, Eliza, I know you've been jealous of me this whole summer. I know you just want what I have, but I really didn't think . . . I didn't think you would do something so underhanded."
"What are you talking about?" Eliza demanded, leaning forward as if that would help her understand why Mara was being such a total bitch.
Mara snapped. "I know all about Palm Beach."
Eliza looked startled. "But I thought you already knew about Palm Beach. I thought you didn't care."
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s k i n n y - d i p p i n g
"Who told you that?" Mara scoffed.
"Sugar," Eliza said.
"It doesn't even matter if I knew or not," Mara spat. "I can't believe you would do something like that to me."
"You guys had broken up! And I did mean to tell you . . . but then Sugar and Poppy said you already knew and didn't care . . . and ..." Eliza said, her voice trailing off when she realized what a mistake she had made. Of course Sugar had lied to her. That was what Sugar did--she lied.
"So you think it's okay to date my boyfriend behind my back?"
"Your ^c-boyfriend. You have a new boyfriend now, Mara. Or did you forget? And we weren't going behind anyone's back. We just didn't want anyone getting hurt," Eliza said.
We. We. We. That hurt Mara more than anything Eliza had said. She and Ryan were a We. The two of them, Ryan and Eliza, were a couple.
"But you knew how I felt about Ryan," Mara said. She could have lived with knowing they'd had a one-night stand in Palm Beach, maybe, but a whole summer of the two of them? Together? Behind her back? What was Eliza thinking? "You knew I still liked him," Mara said.
"How would I know that? We barely hung out this summer," Eliza argued.
"Yeah, you ignored me the whole time," Mara replied.
It was true. Eliza had avoided Mara out of guilt at first, but as
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the summer wore on, and her job wore her down, and Jeremy ignored her, she had found comfort in Ryan. She'd been using Ryan as a Band-Aid to forget about Jeremy. But the Jeremy wound had never healed. She was still in love with Jeremy, and she'd wasted the whole summer with Ryan. And lost a best friend. Mara, Eliza, and Jacqui stared at each other, hating one another for more reasons than they could possibly say.
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it takes e-v-i-l to spell handsome devil
MARA HAD TURNED THE ENTIRE COTTAGE INSIDE OUT, searched the footpaths and the bushes next to the pool, the country club grounds where she'd brought the kids that day-- although the possibility of both earrings falling off her ears was highly unlikely. As the days passed, it was looking more and more like someone had deliberately stolen them.
Mitzi Goober had taken to tele-stalking Mara--her cell phone, the phone in the room, and the main house phone rang incessantly, and it was always Mitzi or one of Mitzi's assistants asking if Mara could please call back and let them know when Ivan could expect his earrings returned. Mitzi had even come by herself, since the MTV Awards show was in two days, but thankfully Mara had been out with the kids at the beach. Finally, Ivan himself had called, screaming and threatening legal action.
It was a Thursday evening, and Garrett was supposed to pick her up at seven so they could go to a dinner his parents were throwing at Alison by The Beach to celebrate the sale of his
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movie-- Casablanca in Space --to a studio. But seven came and went, and the Maybach failed to appear in the driveway. Seven-fifteen, seven-thirty. Eight o'clock. The dinner was supposed to start right now.
Mara looked at her watch. She dialed Garrett's number again, but there was no answer. She felt sort of ridiculous just standing around in her Roland Mouret kimono dress and peep-toe Prada heels, waiting for him to arrive. Finally, she drove herself in the BMW to the party. Maybe she was supposed to meet him there?
The restaurant was airy and light, with a copper bar and all-white bunting hanging from the ceiling. The Reynoldses had rented out the whole restaurant, and Mara noticed several people staring at her strangely as she looked around the room for Garrett.
"Hey, do you know where Garrett is?" Mara asked a girl who was dating one of Garrett's friends.
"He's over there," the girl said. "But, um . . ."
Mara ignored her and walked over to the main table in the middle of the room, where Garrett was sitting with his chair tipped back, laughing uproariously. She walked up to him and rubbed her hand down his arm.
"Er, hi. Sorry I'm late," she whispered, looking for an empty seat at the table. There wasn't one.
Garrett turned around, obviously surprised to see her. "Mara, what are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for you. I thought you were going to pick me up," Mara said, wondering why he was looking at her like that.
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He'd told her about the dinner last week and had made her promise she'd be there.
"Excuse us one
second," Garrett said, leading Mara away from the table. She noticed a tall, exotic-looking girl glaring at them.
"Wait a minute--are you here with someone else?" Mara asked.
"You didn't get my message?" he whispered urgently, leading her farther away from the crowd.
"What message?" Mara asked, stepping aside so a waiter could deliver a tray of champagne glasses to a nearby table.
He sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his bangs. "I uh . . . I'm really sorry, Mara. You're a great girl and all, but you know, no hard feelings."
"Excuse me?" she asked, noticing that everyone at the party was settling into their seats and several people were shooting Garrett concerned looks.
"Listen," he said, looking like a guy whose patience was being tested, "I can't be seen with someone like you right now. My dad is getting all this bad press about our house, and if he finds out the girl I'm dating ..." He trailed off.
"What?" Mara asked.
"Oh, Mara. Everyone knows you took the earrings." Garrett smiled. "I think it's awesome, actually. Great job sticking it to Mitzi. You know her firm doesn't have liability insurance, right? Her career is over." He chuckled.
"But I didn't take the earrings. / didn't? Mara said. "And I can't believe you would think that of me."
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"Listen, babe. It doesn't matter what I think. I told you, I don't care if you did take them, but I can't have any bad publicity right now. My dad is going to go ballistic if my name is attached to yours any more this summer. It was bad enough when people chatted about your . . . you know . . . background. But this is worse."
Mara shook her head. She didn't understand what Garrett was saying. What background? What press? What bad publicity? How did he even know about the earrings? Then Mara remembered: This was the Hamptons. Everyone knew everything.