The night of the launch party for Sniffers by Poppy Perry at Seventh Circle, Poppy had totaled the family's Mercedes SUV. Kevin had not been pleased and had told the girls that they could either drive the Volvo or pay for a new car themselves. Unwilling to raid their own trust funds, the twins had asked Mara if she'd mind if they joined her in that sweet little 7-series BMW convertible she was tooling around town in.
They were the last two girls on earth that Mara had ever thought she would like--but since they were invited to all the same parties and were friends with Garrett's friends, and there was no one else for Mara to hang out with anyway, it just seemed
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natural. Even though Eliza had told Mara not to worry about it, Mara and Eliza hadn't hung out since that night at Seventh Circle. Mara was upset that Eliza was harboring a grudge, but she didn't know how to resolve their quarrel.
Later that evening, Mara was sitting on Sugar's platform bed, the three of them trying on clothes and putting on makeup.
"This is gorgeous," Mara said, fingering a daringly low-cut white Versace dress in Sugar's closet.
"I know, it's like, my fave," Sugar said. "I can't wear it anymore, though. It's been in too many magazines. And I'd give it to Pop, but it won't fit her anymore because of, you know"--she laughed, pointing at her sister's chest---"the surgery."
"Shut up! They still huuuurt" Poppy whined, rubbing her breasts. "Mara, you try it on," Poppy encouraged. "I bet it'll look amazing on you. C'mon."
"I couldn't!" Mara said, although she was already stepping out of her shorts and pulling up the dress over her hips.
"What are you wearing tonight?"
"I hadn't decided." Mara said, zipping up the white Versace.
"Oh my God. Poppy, look!"
"Oh. My. God."
"What?" Mara asked, "Does it look stupid?"
Poppy turned Mara to the full-length mirror. "Doesn't she look like a ripe, juicy, perfectly sweet little plum?" she asked her sister.
"Totally," Sugar drawled. "She is such a plum."
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"Plum--that's it! Your new name! That's what we're going to call you from now on. No offense, but 'Mara'is so boring," Poppy said with her hand on her hip.
"That dress is made for you. You know what? You look so good in it, you should keep it," Sugar told her grandly.
Poppy nodded enthusiastically. "You look like that Russian model Natalia Something!"
"Really? You think so?" Mara blushed. She looked at herself in the mirror. It was the same dress Eliza had worn to P. Diddy's birthday bash last year, and Mara remembered wondering where Eliza had gotten it. Now she knew.
"Darling, it's yours. A present," Sugar said. "Anything for our Plum."
"Hey, do you guys know if Ryan is seeing anyone?" Mara asked, suddenly. She'd noticed that Allison had stopped coming over to the house lately.
Sugar shrugged, and Poppy looked blank.
"Not that we know of," Sugar assured, winking at Poppy when Mara turned around.
"C'mon, we gotta go to the club," Poppy said. "I'll drive," she declared, jangling Mara's BMW keys.
Eliza stood outside the club, manning her little four-foot-square empire, shivering in yet another skimpy outfit. She recognized the BMW that pulled up, but why was Poppy driving it? Poppy threw the keys to the valet, and Sugar slid out of the passenger
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side. The twins posed for a few shots, completely ignoring Eliza in order to squeal hellos to Kartik.
"Hey, wait up!"
Eliza turned to see Mara climb out of the back door of her car, running unevenly after the twins. Eliza grabbed Mara's arm as she walked past. "What, we don't say hello anymore?"
"Eliza! I didn't see you!" Mara squealed, in pitch-perfect imitation of Sugar's signature greeting. "Congratulations on the win today. You rocked!"
"Plum! Get your ass over here!" Poppy yelled from the entrance to the club.
"Coming!" Mara screeched, running over. "Bye-yee!"
Plum? Eliza wondered. Who the hell was Plurrii Eliza stared at Mara's retreating back. Was she just imagining things, or was Mara wearing Sugar's white Versace dress? In front of Sugar?
As Eliza watched, dark-haired Mara and newly brunette Poppy flanked platinum blond Sugar, and the three of them stepped into the club, leaving Eliza outside in the cold.
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a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down
JEREMY HAD PROMISED HE WOULD BE THERE, BUT IT WAS
way after midnight and there was no sign of him anywhere. Eliza checked her cell phone again, just to make sure she hadn't missed any of his calls. She walked through the club, checking to see how many tables she had left in the VIP room. It irritated her to see Mara ensconced in the best banquette in the house, book-ended by the Perry twins, holding court with several of the richest young swans of Manhattan society. And it irritated Eliza that she was irritated. She didn't want to be jealous of Mara, but there was something just a little off-putting about seeing her friend-- whom Eliza knew couldn't even spell Hermes last year--hanging out with the teenage heiress to the venerable French couture house. Mara was hobnobbing with the creme de la creme of the junior elite, and not only that, she looked like she totally belonged there.
The girl looked seriously chic. Mara was wearing Sugar's white Versace dress with a pair of flat-heeled Imitation of Christ gladiator
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sandals, and she was holding a slick little art deco cigarette case for a purse. Eliza was wearing her mother's decades-old Alai'a halter dress. The dress was a metallic, thigh-high mock turtleneck with a racer back. It was so tight it hugged Eliza's every curve, and she'd worn it to remind Jeremy what he'd been missing all summer. When she'd gotten dressed that evening, Eliza had felt pretty good about herself, but now she just felt average.
"Hey, cool dress," Sugar said, catching up with Eliza in the coed restroom, a shiny stainless steel room with an industrial trough for a sink.
"Thanks, it's vintage," Eliza said, feeling gratified. Although she hated to admit it, she had missed Sugar's attention. Sugar could be a real bitch when she wanted to--Eliza still remembered how nasty she had been when she'd found out Eliza was working for the Perrys--but she could also turn on the charm when she wanted to. And for some reason, she was doing it now.
"Groovy," Sugar nodded, rinsing her hands. "Congrats, by the way."
"Thanks," Eliza sighed. She was happy she'd won--she could certainly use the money, and she loved being in the spotlight-but it bothered her that it was already one in the morning and Jeremy still hadn't shown up like he'd promised.
"What's wrong, doll?" Sugar asked, powdering her nose out of a T. LeClerc compact.
"Nothing," Eliza shrugged. "I just . . . There was a guy I was supposed to meet here tonight."
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"Our old gardener?" Sugar asked, not unkindly.
"Yeah," Eliza nodded, frowning at her reflection in the mirror.
"I thought you were with Ryan," Sugar said.
"Who told you that?" Eliza asked, startled. They'd only hooked up once earlier in the summer, and neither of them was planning to do it again.
Sugar smiled mysteriously. "He is my brother, you know. And there was that whole thing with you guys down in PB."
Eliza looked crestfallen. She'd forgotten the twins knew about that. "It's nothing. We're not together."
"Why not?" Sugar asked, leaning against the sink and folding her arms across her chest. "He's not good enough for you?"
"No, it's not that. Of course not."
"Then you guys should just be together," Sugar decided, as if she'd resolved a complicated matter.
"But what about Mara?" Eliza asked anxiously.
Sugar rolled her eyes. "You think Mara doesn't know about you guys?"
"Mara knows?" Eliza asked, a little taken aback. Why hadn't she said anything to Eliza then? Because she was mad? Or because she honestly didn't care anymore?
"It's so not a big deal. She's wit
h Garrett now," Sugar declared, pecking Eliza on the cheek. "See ya."
Much later that night, after all the celebrities had departed and Sugar's entourage--including Mara--had left Seventh Circle for
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a party at Jet East, Eliza saw that she had a message from Jeremy. She went outside to listen to it. Apparently, he'd been stuck at a benefit with his boss that he'd thought he'd be able to get out of. Blah, blah, blah. Eliza heard glasses clinking and girls laughing in the background. He said he was really sorry. Sure he was. Eliza erased the message, too angry and disappointed to care anymore. She walked inside to the VIP room, where she saw Ryan Perry, who was sitting by himself at a corner table. She sat down next to him, noticing the bouquet of flowers he'd tried to give her earlier. This time, she would remember to accept them.
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they shoot models, don't they?
"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" MARA ASKED, ARRIVING LATE TO
meet Jacqui and Philippe and the kids for lunch at Jeff & Eddy's. She'd spent the morning getting pedicures with Sugar and Poppy, and she felt slightly guilty that she'd ditched work again.
"That woman over there just asked us if we were models," Jacqui explained, rolling her eyes and holding up a thick business card. Mara turned to see Mitzi Goober waving enthusiastically at their table. Mara blew kisses in her direction. "What did Mitzi want?" she asked.
"She wants us to work at this show," Philippe explained, handing Mara an invitation.
Mara read the engraved lettering. It was an invitation to a charity fashion show at the Bridgehampton Polo Club next week. She'd received one the other day in the mail, with a front-row seat designation. Sugar and Poppy had been talking about the event nonstop since then--apparently, it was going to be one of the biggest events of the summer. "You guys should do it," Mara said.
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"Modeling is so silly," Jacqui declared, cutting up Cody's string beans.
Mitzi Goober rushed over, air-kissing Mara's cheeks. "So, you guys are all set, right? Reinaldo is going to love you guys. Seriously, it would be such a huge favor, since a couple of the models couldn't get their visas renewed in time."
"So it's a favor? What will you do for me in return?" Philippe asked, smiling wickedly.
"Oooh, you're a bad boy," Mitzi cooed. "I like that. What do I have to do?"
"We'll do it," Jacqui said flatly, cutting in. Did Philippe have to flirt with everybody in sight? Philippe was supposed to be hers--even if all they'd done was sneak a few kisses here and there since the tennis tourney. If agreeing to walk in the show was all it took to get rid of this annoying girl, she was happy to do it. Plus, Eliza and Mara were both going to be there, and Jacqui wished the three of them would get their asses together and be best friends again.
"Fabu!" Mitzi said, blowing air-kisses all around. "See you later, lover. I'll get us a room," she joked, growling at Philippe.
A room, huh?
Now there was an idea.
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booty calls totally
don't count
IF ANYONE EVER ASKED, ELIZA WOULD TELL THEM SHE WAS totally not in love with Ryan Perry. Not at all. They both had their reasons for wanting to keep their relationship--if that was even a word for what they were doing--quiet.
After Jeremy flaked the night of the tennis tourney and Eliza found out Mara knew--and didn't care--about her and Ryan, it just felt natural to do it again. He'd brought her flowers, for goodness' ake. That night they'd gone back to the Perry estate and, well, the next thing she'd known, they were naked. That was the third time that year. Maybe it was a pattern?
The next morning, Eliza had sneaked out of Ryan's room, taking care not to use the side stairway that led to the back of the house that the au pairs often used. Even though Sugar said Mara knew, she was paranoid about bumping into her. Eliza couldn't totally shake the feeling that fooling around with Ryan was like playing with someone else's toys.
Now, ten days later, Eliza was getting more comfortable with
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the idea. They'd hooked up a few more times, and it had been fun and casual. The other night, after 50 Cent celebrated his album release at Seventh Circle, Ryan had popped over to the club around closing, and they'd gone back to her place, ostensibly to watch a DVD again, but somehow things had gotten kind of friendly. A couple of days later, he'd called her on her night off and asked if she wanted to come over for Godfather III. She hadn't really felt like it (Sofia Coppola might be a great director now but she was a bad actress, Eliza thought), but she'd found herself there anyway. Eliza decided that hooking up with Ryan was like eating standing up in front of the fridge. It didn't count. Zero calories.
Except her parents were being so annoying about the two of them, treating Ryan like her boyfriend, which he was so not. One night, Ryan came over and the two of them micro waved a pizza and hung out by the pool instead of going to a party at the PlayStation2House like they'd planned. Her parents had gotten home early from some charity shindig, and her mom and dad hadn't been able to stop making a big deal out of him being there. Of course, Ryan was an old family friend and all, but still. Her mom winked at the two of them, and then the next morning her dad said Ryan could come over to visit any time he liked, which was interesting, since after Jeremy had come over for dinner, her dad had said maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have people around the house since it wasn't theirs. Eliza supposed that had to do with Ryan being the right sort of person to have
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around, and Jeremy the wrong sort--according to her parents' logic, anyway.
Not that Jeremy even tried to see her anymore--she'd hardly heard from him since the night of the tournament. Of course, that didn't stop her from checking her messages obsessively.
"Who're you calling?" Ryan asked, shoving a handful of kettle corn in his mouth and spilling crumbs all over the carpet. He'd picked her up from work that night, and now they were just hanging out, watching TV.
"Just checking my messages," Eliza said.
Ryan nodded. On the screen, a popular actress was explaining away her latest disastrous relationship to Oprah during the show's 3 A.M. repeat.
The thing was, it was fun doing whatever it was she was doing with Ryan. It was fun when he picked her up from the club, since everyone knew him or knew of him, and all the waitresses and bartenders thought he was such a doll. It was fun not worrying about anything. Even the guilt over Mara was getting more distant every day. Sugar had said Mara knew and didn't care, so it wasn't like Eliza was doing anything wrong. Being with Ryan reminded her of her old life in New York, when she would kiss any boy she wanted to, just because she could.
"Hey, isn't that Sugar?" Eliza asked, looking up at the screen from her list of text messages. It was the E! reality show. They were covering the tennis match.
Ryan grunted in a disapproving manner. He was about to
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change the channel when something caught his eye. Eliza saw it too--Mara, in the corner of the screen, staring longingly at something--or someone. And when the camera panned to where she was looking, there was Ryan, sitting in the stands, intently watching the game.
Huh.
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the best things in life are (still) free
"TELL ME THOSE AREN'T REAL!" MEGAN PRACTICALLY
screamed, lunging at Mara's ears as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. "They're the size of ice cubes!"
The day of the benefit fashion show, Mara had received two visitors: her sister Megan, toting a huge battered suitcase and a fifteen-pound bag of makeup, and a brown-uniformed messenger bearing a small black bag. Inside the bag was a velvet case with a pair of ten-carat diamond earrings worth two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, on loan from one of Mitzi's new clients.
Now they were on their way to Jean-Luc East, where Mara was friendly with the owner. "Yup. Nicole Kidman wore them to the Oscars," Mara responded. "I'm supposed to wear them tonight."
After the two were seated at one of the bes
t tables in the restaurant, Mara's sister filled her in on the latest news from Sturbridge--trouble on Dad's construction site, Mom's work at the church rummage sale--but it all sounded so small-town and
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hokey to Mara's ears that she found herself spacing out without meaning to.
"And the Infusium sales rep is so cute!" Megan squealed, getting Mara's attention. Every week the salon got a delivery of beauty products, and the Infusium rep--a nice Irish guy named Bobby O'Donnell--was Megan's current crush.
Mara looked at her sister from behind her oversized Chanel frames: Megan was taller than Mara, with red, curly hair and a loopy Julia-Roberts-like grin. She was fearsomely pretty, whip-smart, and in love with a guy who delivered boxes of shampoo and conditioner for a living. What gave?
"You can do a lot better than Bobby O'Donnell," Mara said, cutting short any more discussion on the beauty product sales rep. She'd forgotten how boring life was back home. Had it always been that way?
After lunch, Mara opened her handbag and left a few bills on the table, dismissing Megan's charge card. "I got paid today," she explained, patting a fat brown envelope.
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