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"Oh, okay. Maybe we can go get coffee later this week or something?" Mara asked meekly.
"Yeah, I'll call you, 'kay?" Eliza replied quickly.
"Okay," Mara answered, but Eliza was already stabbing at the END button.
Mara hung up the phone in the kitchen, feeling blue. Eliza was still totally pissed off, she could tell. She opened the patio doors and was surprised to see Philippe sun-bathing on a raft in the middle of the pool, smoking as usual. She'd thought he'd gone away to the city. He was supposed to be one of the au pairs, but they rarely saw him since he'd been relocated to the main house.
"Your sister called earlier," he said, tapping his ashes into the water. "Laurie was looking for you."
"Which one?"
Philippe shrugged.
It had to be Megan. Maureen had three kids and was too busy to call. Mara wondered why Megan hadn't phoned her cell, but then, she didn't get a great signal in the Hamptons. Mara went back to the kitchen and dialed Megan's number at work.
"Hey, Meg? It's me," Mara said.
"Mara! Our star!" The cheerful voice of her sister vibrated down the line.
"Oh my God. You saw it? The Post?"
"Of course I saw it. Hello, it's Meg you're talking to, remember? I saw you in Us Weekly the other day, too. You look cuter on
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Page Six. A little risque, but cute," Megan said authoritatively. Mara could hear the sounds of blow-dryers and scissors clicking in the background.
"You really think I looked good? Did Mom and Dad see it?" Mara asked, looking out the window where Philippe was floating in circles. Anna Perry walked out to the terrace, wearing a white bikini and transparent high heels. She stepped gingerly into the pool, and Philippe helped her situate herself on a similar raft. They glided to the other end, where the water spilled over to a waterfall and a Jacuzzi.
"Mara, are you listening?" Megan asked.
"Oh, no, sorry," Mara said. "What did you say?"
"I told you that I hid the paper from them--if they'd seen it, you'd be back home in like, ten seconds. You know what Dad's like."
"Thank God. I owe you."
"No kidding. That's why I'm coming down to visit you in two weeks. I want to see where my famous little sister hangs out!"
"That would be awesome!" Mara replied.
"I know. That's why I didn't wait for an invitation," Megan said.
"What do you mean? You know you're always welcome!" Mara protested.
"That's why I'm coming to visit. Anyway, I gotta go. I was supposed to rinse Mrs. Norman ten minutes and now her hair is going to be lavender. See you soon!"
Mara hung up the phone, feeling better. Her favorite sister,
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Megan, was coming down to visit! It would be so great to have Megan around--they could do some normal stuff, like get burgers at O'Malley's in East Hampton and maybe have a lobster boil on the beach. Mara could use a little break, and there was nothing like family to bring you back down to earth when you've had too much champagne.
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garrett reels in a catch
THE RICH WERE DIFFERENT. MARA HAD UNDERSTOOD THAT
ever since last summer, when she met the Perry twins, who didn't think anything of spending eight hundred dollars on a designer dress but drew the line at paying for their own cocktails, and Ryan Perry, who drove a custom-made British sports car but filled the tank with unleaded to save a few bucks. Only a family like the Reynoldses would build a saltwater pool--a giant fish tank you could swim in--a mere thirty feet from the ocean. Garrett invited Mara over to check it out, since it had just been stocked with fish. The water was warm and soothing as Mara stepped inside.
"Another one?" Garrett asked, wading in with a pitcher of mango margaritas.
"I've already had two," Mara said, waving it away. "Maybe I should cool it a little," she said. "My sister's coming to visit soon, I don't want her to think--"
"Think what?" he asked, drinking straight from the pitcher and smacking his lips.
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It was a beautiful warm night, and the crickets were chirping.
"I don't know, like I'm some kind of party girl or something. I do have a job, you know," she reminded him. "What if the kids saw me in Page Six?" she agonized.
"You know what? You shouldn't worry so much. It's just a photo in a newspaper. You know what people do with the newspaper?" Garrett asked, waving the pitcher around, accidentally sloshing its contents into the pool.
Mara shook her head, wondering if the alcohol would hurt the fish.
"They throw it away at the end of the day. In London, they wrap french fries in it to soak up the oil!" He laughed and set the pitcher by the side of the pool. He swam up, splashing her with water. "I like you, Mara. You're fun. Be fun!"
Mara glowed. He liked her. He'd said it out loud. With his hair all wet, he looked so cute, like a sleek, dark seal. He smiled at her, and she touched his face, liking how nonjudgmental he was. Ryan Perry probably thought she was the biggest hoochie in the Hamptons, but Garrett Reynolds thought she was fun.
A school of orange-and-white clown fish darted around the nearby coral, and Mara refilled her glass. It was delicious, and besides, hadn't Megan wanted to come to the Hamptons to experience all the glamour? Who wanted to go get lobster rolls in Montauk when you could hang out in the VIP room at Seventh Circle with movie stars?
Garrett threw her a pair of goggles and a snorkel and
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switched on the underwater lights. She dipped her head underneath and looked around. The water was a bright, cerulean blue, as clear as daylight, and populated by colorful sea creatures of every size and shape. There were sea turtles and moray eels, brilliantly stark zebra fish, angelfish, rainbow fish, and blue-finned emperor fish.
"This is amazing," she told him, stopping to take the snorkel out of her mouth.
"Why go to St. Barths when you can bring St. Barths to you?" Garrett asked, adjusting his goggles. "That's the problem with the Hamptons: there's no good scuba."
A school of black stingrays floated by their knees. Mara watched them glide toward the reef, marveling at their smooth and graceful pace.
Garrett held her hand as they floated across the pool, pointing out transparent jellyfish and pulsating starfish. He swam toward an imitation grotto, a man-made cavern in the middle of the pool, and gestured to Mara to follow.
Mara held her cocktail above the waves, ducking into the cave. She'd thought the Perrys lived well, but this was a whole other level entirely. The Reynolds house was like Versailles and, well, Sea World all rolled into one.
"This is my favorite spot," Garrett said, pulling her closer to him. "Have you ever been to Capri?"
Mara shook her head. Apart from the Hamptons, she'd never really been anywhere.
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He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. "Some day I'll take you there," he whispered in her ear.
"Mmmm," Mara smiled, liking the idea of that.
She wondered what Ryan was doing right then, but shook the thought out of her mind.
The dark cavern made Garrett's dark hair gleam with blue-black highlights, and his eyes glittered with mischief. "Bet you can't hold your breath underwater longer than I can," he challenged.
"Oh, ho! Bet I can!" Mara disagreed.
Mara inhaled and bent down, puffing her cheeks with oxygen, determined to prove him wrong. Garrett reached out to hold her hand as they sank underneath the water. Then he was kissing her, breathing into her mouth, salty and slick, hot and wet, and Mara surrendered to the novel sensation of being electrified by his touch, because for the longest time, she hadn't thought anyone but Ryan could make her feel that way again.
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do two kind-of
boyfriends equal one
whole one?
EVERY SUMMER SINCE ELIZA COULD REMEMBER, THE Meadow Club in Southampton held an amateur tennis tournament for its members. Over the years, the
two-day event had grown from a private, low-key country club match to one of the most important stops on the tennis circuit, complete with an official corporate sponsor, and had since been dubbed the Rolex Invitational. The tourney was able to attract tennis stars like Andy Roddick and Lindsay Davenport, as well as former luminaries like Pete Sampras and Ivan Lendl, to compete for the grand prize, a silver plate and a ten-thousand-dollar check. However, this year, none of the players were famous or internationally ranked, much to the chagrin of the club, which counted on the publicity the stars garnered.
At the end of the week, everyone turned out to watch the men's and women's championships. A well-heeled crowd in Lacoste polos and cheerful madras prints watched as
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Philippe double faulted against his opponent, a hulking Swede.
Jacqui sat in the back with the kids, whom she'd bribed with ice cream bars. She knew how badly Philippe wanted to win the championship, but this was not going well. In the front box, Jacqui noticed Anna Perry watching the game with interest as well. Even though Jacqui knew she had to stay away from Philippe, there was something about watching Anna watch him that made her want him more. She still remembered the way he'd kissed her on the pool table. As much as she tried, Jacqui couldn't shake the memory.
On the adjoining court, Eliza was matching a two-time NCAA champ from Stanford serve for serve. She'd won the semifinal in a nail-biting sudden-death round, and it was a total thrill to be in the finals. She'd never expected this. Eliza looked up at the stands, enjoying being the center of attention for the first time all summer. She caught Ryan's eye and smiled at him in the front row, and then looked up again and saw Jeremy. She botched her serve, lobbing it into the net weakly.
Mara was sitting in the front box next to Garrett, directly opposite from Ryan, but she and Ryan weren't looking at each other. Sugar and Poppy were there as well, close to Mara. Eliza noticed that the three girls were wearing identical pastel Cynthia Rowley dresses. Totally weird--they'd hardly known Mara existed last summer.
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Eliza shook the distractions from her head. This was it: last set. The Stanford champ sent a liner down the middle. Eliza sent it back with a powerful crash. Game. Set. Match. And just like that, Eliza won.
The NCAA champ was giving interviews in the locker room, trying to explain away her loss to a high school student, so Eliza ducked in, took a quick shower, and changed into a tiny Sabbia Rosa camisole and white Chloe jeans. She ran out to the hallway, hoping to avoid her surly opponent.
"Hey, good game!"
Eliza looked around. Ryan was standing underneath the archway with a bouquet of flowers.
"Ryan! Thanks!" She smiled, flushed and happy to see him. "Are those for me?"
Ryan handed the flowers over and they hugged warmly. Ryan was leaning down to kiss Eliza on the cheek when another hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to find Jeremy, smiling a little warily at her.
"Hey!" Eliza enthused, throwing her arms around Jeremy's neck.
"You were great on that court," Jeremy whispered.
Eliza smiled into Jeremy's polo shirt, almost forgetting that he'd completely blown her off ever since dinner with her parents. Ryan coughed, and Eliza remembered her manners.
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"Jeremy, you know Ryan Perry, right? He's an old friend of mine," Eliza explained, a little nervously.
"Sure. I used to work for you guys," Jeremy said, taking Ryan's hand.
"How are you, man?" Ryan asked. The two of them clenched hands, smiling tightly at each other. Ryan affected a relaxed pose that Eliza could tell was just an act.
"Oh, Eliza, this is Carolyn," Jeremy said, turning to introduce a tall, auburn-haired girl behind him. "Eliza Thompson, Carolyn Flynn."
Eliza handed Ryan the bouquet so she could shake hands with Jeremy's friend.
"You should turn pro," Carolyn said. "That was amazing."
"Thanks--you're sweet. You know, you look familiar," Eliza said, narrowing her eyes. "You went to Spence, didn't you?
"I think I was a year older," Carolyn agreed.
"And you two know each other?" Eliza asked, gesturing from Carolyn to Jeremy.
"We're both interning at Morgan," Jeremy explained.
Eliza felt her jaw muscles tighten from having to smile so much. It was so great to see Jeremy--finally. And she was so touched he'd actually remembered the tennis tournament, but it sort of seemed like he was here . . . with a date.
"I'm sorry I haven't been by the club," Jeremy was saying. "Work has been killer."
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"That's okay," Eliza said. "Make it up to me tonight at Seventh Circle?"
He nodded. "I'll be there."
"Me too," said Ryan, still holding the bouquet of flowers, but Eliza was already gone.
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forbidden love is the greatest aphrodisiac
JACQUI RAPPED ON THE DOOR. SHE KNEW PHILIPPE was sulking inside. Having lost the game in the most humiliating manner--6-0, 6-0, 6-3--he had stormed off the court. But watching Anna watch him at the game, Jacqui decided that she might just want to help him feel ... better. She opened the door and walked in, just as Anna Perry was walking out.
"Oh! Excuse me!" Jacqui said. "I was just--"
"The children's wing is that way, Jacqui," Anna said in a cold voice.
"Yes, I ... I was just looking for Cody's blanket," Jacqui said, hurrying away. She ran down the hallway, and when Anna's footsteps receded, she tiptoed quickly back to Philippe's door.
"Hurry, open up, it's me," she whispered.
"It's open," he whispered back.
She walked in to find Philippe lying on his bed, smoking a cigarette and looking a little more relaxed than he had earlier when he'd thrown his racket against the concrete and pushed away the TV cameras.
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"What was that about?" she asked.
"What?" Philippe replied.
"Anna." Jacqui motioned over her shoulder.
"Who?"
"Our boss. Was she just with you?"
Philippe shrugged.
Jacqui pressed her lips tightly together. Looking at Philippe now, completely sweaty from the match, his honey blond hair damp and stuck to his handsome face, she could hardly resist him. Knowing she wasn't supposed to be with him made her want him even more. But if he really was having an affair with Anna Perry, then that was another story.
"Don't worry about Anna Perry," Philippe said, practically reading her mind. "It's not your concern. Can I help it if she is attracted to me? But me, I am not attracted to her, so there is nothing between us."
"That's not what I was thinking," Jacqui lied.
Philippe took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke whirl around them. "Really." He smiled.
Jacqui smiled back. God, he was hot. "Well, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" she asked gently.
"It's just a game," he said, stubbing out his cigarette and readjusting his head against a pillow.
"Well, I'm sorry." Jacqui looked at the door, nervous that Anna would come back at any minute.
"I'm sorry too," Philippe said. "But as Americans say, you win
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some, you lose some, n'est-ce pas?" He smiled impishly. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked. "I have to lose a tennis match to get your attention?"
"Well, you've been kind of busy with someone else," Jacqui said, sitting down on the side of the bed.
"Anna Perry again! What do I have to do to make you believe there is nothing between me and that woman?" Philippe asked, throwing up his arms.
"Prove it," Jacqui taunted, her full lips parting into a sexy smile.
Philippe pulled her toward him. "Is this what you want?" he asked, between kisses.
Jacqui responded by kissing him ardently back. He slid his hand up the back of her shirt, but she pushed him away. "No-- not now ..." she said, looking at the door again.
"When?" Philippe asked.
"We'll figure something out," Jacqui sa
id, smoothing her hair and kissing him one last time.
She stuck her head out the door. The coast was clear. She ran out the door, just as Dr. Abraham was walking purposefully toward his room. As she shuffled down the hallway toward the kids' wing, Jacqui heard them talking and wondered what that was all about. Philippe was one popular boy.
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mara acquires a perry
sister nickname
NEVER JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER. THAT WAS WHAT MARA
had always been taught, growing up in a small town like Sturbridge. Her parents were heavily into cliched sayings, such as Still waters run deep and The Lord helps those who help themselves, which her mother had embroidered and framed in their kitchen. For the most part, Mara abided by the first one--she was always willing to give people a second chance.
Look at Garrett Reynolds. She'd assumed he was some rich playboy who only had one thing on his mind, but he'd turned out to be genuinely interested in her. So, she'd been wrong about Garrett. Could it be possible she'd been wrong about Poppy and Sugar as well?
It had started innocently enough, when she and Garrett had attended Charlie Borshok's birthday party, at Sugar's invitation. They'd had a decent time, and the twins hadn't mentioned one thing about her being an au pair. In fact, unlike last summer, they were treating her like one of them. Poppy, who'd recently
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come back from a "spa" in Arizona with a pumped-up chest and her hair dyed dark chocolate brown, was especially friendly after the Nipplegate incident. "It's good to be a little controversial--it keeps people interested," she'd told Mara.
Poppy knew all about controversy. Since she had been overlooked by the reality show, Poppy had tried to recapture the spotlight through alternative means. First up: a line of scented candles inspired by her oh-so-glamorous life. Fragrances included New York City Musk, which unfortunately smelled exactly like its name; Last Call, which smelled like the backroom of a bar; and Fame, made from poisonous elderberries and cloyingly sweet gardenias. It didn't seem to bother their parents that neither of the twins was planning on going back to high school in the fall. As Sugar put it, they could always get their GEDs just like everybody else in Hollywood.
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