"Where are you staying?" she asked.
"My parents' place, but I'm in the city all week, staying at an apartment the firm rents for us."
"So," Eliza said, taking Jeremy's hand.
"So," replied Jeremy, rubbing his thumb over her Sheer-Bliss-manicured nails.
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They stared at each other, feeling suddenly shy to be so near one other again. Eliza hadn't realized she was inching toward him, until she was standing so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek and they were hugging. She had never experienced anything like this before. She and Jeremy belonged together. Even though the year apart had been hard--she'd tried not to ask if he was dating anyone in the many e-mails she sent him, and he'd never mentioned any other girls in the e-mails he sent her--it was just like the first time they'd met, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other.
Before Eliza knew it, he was kissing her, and it was just as sweet as she remembered. "It's been too long," he murmured into her hair. "I thought about you all the time."
"Me too," she said, liking how her head fit snugly under his chin. "My parents are in Westhampton this summer. We got a house," she said, a little proudly. "Do you maybe want to have dinner with us next week?" Eliza wouldn't have invited Jeremy to meet her parents in the past, fearing they would suss out his working-class background immediately and their disapproval would come between her and Jeremy. But looking at him in his suit and hearing him talk about his internship, she couldn't imagine how her parents wouldn't approve of him.
"If I can get out of work. We have a big presentation next week. But I'll try."
Her headset buzzed. "Eliza! Ondine just walked into the VIP room! There are no tables! And she's about to spot Chauncey and Daryl!"
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"I've got to go," she said reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.
"Right. I'm beat anyway. It's been a long week."
"I'll call you," she said, fading back inside the club.
"Not if I call you first." He smiled.
Eliza ordered a table brought out from the back kitchen and set up in the far corner of the VIP room for Ondine, so that the happy newlyweds could drink their free cocktails in peace.
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jacqui catches a wave, but the boy slips through her fingers
"LEAVE HER," PHILIPPE ADVISED, AS JACQUI TRIED UN SUC CESSFULLY to rouse Mara from the bed. They had to be in Montauk for the kids' first surfing lesson by nine, and they wouldn't be able to make it if they waited for Little Miss Hangover to wake up.
Jacqui gave Mara one last shake and was rewarded with a bleary groan. "Mffpphhh," Mara said, turning to her side and burying her head under the pillows.
Mara had stumbled in near dawn, laughing hysterically when she'd climbed into the nearest bed and landed on Philippe. Jacqui and Philippe had helped her into the bottom bunk, Jacqui taking care to cover her friend with a blanket before unzipping her out of her dress. They had tucked her in like one of the kids, and the next morning they looked down at her like bemused parents.
"She's a partier, huh?" Philippe asked a few minutes later, as he and Jacqui collected the kids and all their aquatic equipment, piling the latter into the back of the Range Rover.
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"Not usually," Jacqui said, defending her friend as she strapped Cody into his car seat and grabbed Zoe's doll out of William's hands and returned it to the whimpering little girl.
Jacqui was a little annoyed with Philippe. She was bummed to have missed Eliza's opening night at the club. She still had no idea where he'd spent the rest of the evening last night. It wasn't any of her business, but she was a little irritated that he'd paid more attention to Anna than he had to her. Rules were rules, and she didn't plan on breaking hers, but Jacqui wasn't accustomed to playing second banana to anyone.
Philippe backed the SUV out of the driveway, and they were to the private road when Dr. Abraham, in a red bathrobe and flippers, came running out of the house, flagging them down. The kids grumbled as the doctor hauled himself into the car.
"Thank you," the doctor nodded, huffing and puffing and buckling his seat belt.
"Ah, the good doctor," Philippe said cheerfully. "You need to monitor the children's physical activities, yes?" he asked, discreetly motioning toward a large tote bag filled with sunscreen and books. "The beach behavior?"
"Indeed, indeed," Dr. Abraham replied.
When they arrived in Montauk, the two surfing instructors, Bree, a squat, toothy girl with blond dreadlocks, and Roy, a laid-back Hawaiian guy who kept giving them hang-ten hand signals, showed them where to change. Anna had bought all
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the kids matching black full-body wet suits and the most high-tech equipment, including battery-powered homing devices on their ankle chains that attached to their fiberglass surfboards. Bree handed Jacqui and Philippe wet suits as well, explaining that the cute little string bikini Jacqui was wearing would get totally torn off her body by the waves, eliciting looks of excitement and then disappointment from all the males present.
Once everyone had changed, they paddled out on their boards in the ocean. The smaller waves swelled close to shore, so they didn't have to go too far. Bree and Roy took the two youngest between them, advising William to follow.
"Ouch!" William said, as a wave crested and he smacked himself on the face with his board.
"Hold it out like this," Philippe said, holding his borrowed board at arm's length and grasping the rails.
A large wave lifted all of them up a few feet, drawing frightened screams from Cody, who was wearing water wings with his wet suit.
"Boards at the sides, facing the beach!" Roy directed, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Keep an eye on the waves and choose one that looks like it can hold you, like this," he said. "Then pull yourself up on the board. Paddle out, let the wave take you."
"Easier said than done," Jacqui noted, pulling herself up on the board only to fall back on the other side. "Merda!"
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"Look at me! Look at me!" Zoe said, slipping out of Bree's reach and paddling furiously as a wave brought her to shore.
"Nice one, mahalol" Roy said, giving another hang-ten signal.
"Cowabunga!" William yelled, diving straight into the sand as a wave tossed him backward. "I'm okay! I'm okay!" he said, resurfacing and spitting out ocean water.
Philippe ducked into a wave, paddling furiously, then emerged, standing straight up on his board, cruising to the sand. He ran back to the water, laughing. "I haven't done that in years." His whole face was lit up, and his eyes were gleaming.
"Wow! Surpreendente!" Jacqui said. "I didn't know you could surf."
"Only a little. It's not that hard," he said, coaching her. "There, get that one. . . . Pull up, pull up, bien! Ah, fantastic! Go, go, go!" he cheered, as Jacqui coasted gracefully down to the beach.
They watched the kids bob up and down for a while, satisfied that Roy and Bree were taking good care of their charges, then retreated back to shore, where Dr. Abraham was snoozing underneath his umbrella.
"Looks like they're paying him to take a vacation," Jacqui noted dryly.
Philippe nodded. "Good thing we're working so hard," he teased as he spread out their towels. "The only thing I hate is when it sloshes around," he said, jumping up and down.
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Jacqui nodded and unzipped her suit, peeling it from her body. She could feel Philippe staring at her, even though she wasn't looking at him.
"You are very beautiful," he stated, in the same way that someone would say, "The sun is hot" or "The earth is round," like it was simply a fact of life and nothing to get all hot and bothered about.
"Thank you," she said, meeting his gaze with her level one.
"You must get told that a lot, I'm sure. It must get extremely. . . ennuyeux . . . uh, boring," Philippe said.
"It is, actually," Jacqui said seriously.
"Then maybe I should just say you are very ugly," he teased.
Jacqui threw a snorkel at him. He was cute, but he was also quick and she liked that. She hugged her legs to her chest and reluctantly cracked open her SAT book. Her first class was tomorrow night, and as much as she just wanted to spend the day flirting with Philippe, she couldn't afford to be distracted.
Philippe's cell rang again, which it seemed to do constantly. Jacqui wondered how someone who'd never been to the Hamptons could have made so many friends so quickly.
'"Allo?" he asked, snapping open his phone. He spoke in rapid French, then excused himself, hoisting his backpack on his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" Jacqui called.
Philippe held up his finger to say, "Just a minute," but he kept walking away toward the boardwalk. Jacqui noticed several girls
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watching him from behind their oversized Gucci and Chanel frames, as well as a few guys checking him out from under their striped umbrellas. Philippe was giving everyone, male and female, the same flirtatious smile. Jacqui sighed and dropped her head to look at her book. She would never understand the French.
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that's why it's called
page six six six
LATER THAT SAME MORNING, MARA WOKE UP TO FIND
herself alone in the au pairs' room. It was almost eleven-thirty, and Philippe and Jacqui were nowhere to be found. Mara was surprised she'd slept so late and that neither of them had woken her up. Last night was a hazy blur. She remembered dancing wildly when the old rock song "Livin' on a Prayer" came on, crashing into Eliza, and trading shopping stories with Chauncey Raven, the beleaguered pop star who'd recently had her second quickie marriage in Vegas, who was sitting at the next table. She'd also spent a good part of the evening perched on Garrett's lap, since a bunch of his friends had shown up and they'd had to squeeze into the banquette, but she'd fended off his good-night kiss when he'd dropped her off at four in the morning.
Mara shuffled into the main house, which was reverberating with the sound of the Reynolds Castle's jackhammers. She shook her head--all that pounding was not what she needed right
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now--and walked into the kitchen, where antique French cabinetry covered every surface, even the Sub-Zero fridge. She realized that maybe the Reynolds Castle was just like every house in the Hamptons, just bigger and more obvious. The kitchen was empty save for Madison, who was weighing a boiled chicken breast on a kitchen scale. Mara watched as the girl carefully cut it in half, weighed it again, and then put it on a plate with several raw baby carrots.
"What are you doing?"
Madison glared. "Nothing."
Mara pulled up a stool next to her and began to assemble breakfast, slicing a banana and pouring two-percent milk over a bowl of cereal. "You know, Madison, when I was younger, I was kind of chubby. But when I turned fourteen, my metabolism kicked in when I was playing a lot of soccer, and I lost a lot of weight."
"I hate soccer," Madison sulked, slamming the door behind her.
Mara sighed. She picked up a copy of the New York Post, which had been opened to the Page Six column. HAS THE REYNOLDS HEIR FOUND LOVE? screamed the headline, above a picture of Mara perched on Garrett's lap from the night before.
She was leaning on Garrett's arm, laughing at what he was saying. Garrett was smirking into the camera, holding a fizzing bottle of champagne in one hand, with the other clasped firmly around
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Mara's waist. Aside from a few snide mentions about the hundred-thousand-square-foot "Frankenstein Castle" the Reynoldses were building in East Hampton, the accompanying article was nearly identical to one about her and Ryan from the summer before, detailing how the sexy young couple had been caught canoodling at the hottest club of the season. Canoodling? She'd only been sitting on his lap! Okay, so maybe he'd nuzzled her neck a little. . . .
A pit formed in her stomach. She wondered if Ryan had been the one to leave the paper on the table. She picked up and sniffed a half-empty cup sitting next to the paper. Green tea. Ryan was only one in the Perry household who drank green tea.
Just then, Sugar walked in, panther-skinny and sweaty from a morning yoga session. The same two-man camera crew from last night followed her.
"Oh, hi," Sugar said. "Is that Page Six?" She walked over to read over Mara's shoulder. Sugar looked up from the picture and regarded Mara thoughtfully. "You guys should hang out with me and Charlie some time."
One of the Perry twins being nice to her? Mara couldn't believe it. Last summer Sugar hadn't even been able to remember her name. She'd called her Marta or Maria or Mary.
"We're having a party on his yacht next weekend. Close friends only. Bring Gar. It'll rock."
"Yeah, maybe," Mara mumbled as Sugar shrugged and smiled into the cameras, tossing her hair back and puffing out her chest.
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"C'mon, guys," Sugar told the crew. "Meet me in the outdoor shower."
Mara stared at Page Six, wondering if there was any way Ryan would want to talk to her after seeing that picture. That was the thing about pictures--they were worth a thousand words, but sometimes they weren't the right ones.
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nothing spells love like a car full of goody bags
AT END OF THE FOLLOWING WEEK, MARA MADE HER
way to the screening room for the first weekly progress meeting. Jacqui and Philippe were supposed to join her as soon as they returned from taking the boys to some kind of boot camp for the day. The two of them were obviously getting friendly and liked to do chores together if they could.
Mara planned to complain about Dr. Abraham at the meeting. He'd lectured her when she'd given Cody a hug after he'd stubbed his toe, telling her direly, "Positive reinforcement after a painful experience is unlikely to build character," and then asked her if she knew how he could get a VIP table at Seventh Circle a few minutes later. There was something off about the guy.
After sitting in the dark for fifteen minutes, it became clear to Mara that neither Anna nor Kevin would materialize. No surprise there. The meetings were something Anna had insisted upon last summer as well, even though neither she nor Kevin ever attended. Mara shrugged and walked out of the room.
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Madison and Zoe were waiting for her to take them to yoga.
They walked out the front door to see a large delivery truck parked in the Perrys' driveway. Several uniformed workers were unloading racks of clothing as well as dozens of black shopping bags with pink tissue paper sticking out of the top. An overly tanned, clothes-hanger-skinny woman in a white tank top that read YOUR BOYFRIEND WANTS ME and low-riding blue jeans was directing the action.
"What's going on?" Mara asked Laurie, who was surveying the spectacle with a caustic eye.
"I'm not sure, but I think it's for you," Laurie said.
"Hi! Mara Waters? Mitzi Goober!" the woman in the white tank top said, saying her last name with a Frenchified lilt, so it sounded like "Giubaire" rather than the name of a popular candy. She thrust a muscular and bony arm in Mara's direction. "Wow! I would never have recognized you. You are so much prettier than your pictures!"
"Thanks, I think ..." Mara said, her forehead descending.
She'd thought things would die down after the photo of her and Garrett was published in the Post, but the following week it had popped up in Hamptons, Hamptons Life, Hamptons Living, Hamptons Country, and Hamptons Luxury magazines. She never had a chance to explain the photo to Ryan, since whenever they ran into each other--just that morning they'd bumped into each other in the pool--he basically ignored her. It was heartbreaking how aloof he was, but it did help that Garrett was being so persistent
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about a second date. He'd already sent her so many flowers, the au pairs' room looked like a funeral parlor.
A shot of Mara alone, in the lavender Zac Posen dress, had ultimately ended up on the party page of Vogue, under the heading Lilac Ladies, between a photo of Jennifer Connelly in a bow-tied lavender Chloe dress and one of Aerin Lauder in a purple Valentino shift. Mara ha
d been back in the Hamptons for two weeks, but already she was eliciting stares of barely concealed jealousy, or just plain curiosity, everywhere she went. She felt like a freak and a fraud: There she was, in the pages of a glossy magazine posing in Jacqui's designer dress, while in reality, she was schlepping the kids to the dentist, wiping Cody's bottom, and trying to coerce Madison into eating something more than clear chicken broth and nonfat string cheese.
"Anyway, dollink, as I was just explaining to your assistant here . . ." Mitzi was saying.
Doll rink? Mara was confused. Doll tint? What the hell was Mitzi saying? Dog fink? It was hard to follow her rat-a-tat delivery.
"I'm Anna Perry's assistant," Laurie cut in.
"Sure. Whatever," Mitzi said as she motioned the delivery men to grab the rest of the bags from the truck.
"Mara is an au pair," Laurie said indignantly.
"An au pair! How cute! Groovy!" Mitzi said. "Listen, Mara, I've got a hot new designer who wants to dress you--several, in fact--and these are all gifts for you to wear around town."
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"For me?" Mara said, watching the guys set down bag after bag on the grass next to the driveway.
"Sure, sure, sure! Just make sure to mention their names when people ask you what you're wearing. Shoshanna sent her whole summer collection. She loved the photos of you in her dress last year, and she thinks you might like a few pieces. Okay to just leave them here?"
"This is really nice, Mitzi, but uh, I don't know."