Lell was seated behind her immaculate glass desk, which held the most exquisite arrangement of calla lilies in a clear crystal vase. Everything was arranged perfectly, from her pencils to her silver accessories to her monogrammed notepads to Lell herself. Clad in a charcoal gray suit, a fitted blue-and-white striped oxford, a knotted Hermès scarf, and little tortoise-shell glasses perched on her nose, Lell was a posterboard for how a sophisticated modern woman should look. Julia immediately felt like a slob, even though she had ironed her blouse three times and had even shined her boots to a mirrorlike shine. She sighed and wondered if Lell’s glasses were just for show.
“Hey, sit down,” said Lell, motioning to a chair.
“What’s up?” asked Julia.
“I was just wondering why I didn’t see you at the Burberry party last night,” asked Lell, taking off her glasses and putting them on the table.
“Oh my gosh, was I supposed to go?” asked Julia, worried.
“Well, you were invited, and it was a store opening.”
“Oh, I didn’t know, I just thought it was a store opening so—”
“Well, store openings are important. Paparazzi cover those things. We’re trying to get our face out there, we want Pelham’s representatives everywhere. The Tiffany people were there, the Swarovskis.”
“Okay, I’ll definitely go next time. I’m sorry, Lell. I just, well, since I’m going to the Hamptons—”
“Southampton.”
“Southampton. Sorry. Since I’m going there this weekend, I knew I would miss time volunteering at Girls, Inc., so I thought I’d make it up by doing an after-school class yesterday.”
“Yes,” said Lell, staring at Julia carefully. “This Girls, Inc., seems to take up a lot of your time.”
“I don’t ever let it get in the way of work, though. I promise.”
“Oh I know, but I just think, hmm . . .” said Lell, picking up her silver letter opener and fondling the edge. “Maybe you should rethink it for now. You’re doing a lot of meaningful charity work by going to these benefits. I don’t want you to be overcommitted. There are going to be projects that will require help and more benefits to go to. Sometimes I need a fourth for bridge and poker, and I just want you to be available. Why don’t you push back the Girls, Inc., for now?”
Julia gulped. This wasn’t a request; this was a command. She had no choice. “Um, okay—”
“Great,” said Lell, smiling. “Now, I want you to help me with something fun. Vogue just sent over a fax. They want me to answer questions for their June summer vacation issue. Here it is.”
Lell handed Julia a sheet of paper and a pen.
“Oh, so I’ll ask you and then write it down?”
“Yes,” said Lell, giving her a quizzical look.
So she can’t even write down her own answers? thought Julia. Whatever.
“Okay, number one, what is your favorite travel destination?”
Lell leaned back in her chair and folded her hands. “I love going to our family’s house in Jamaica, which we have owned since the seventies, before Jamaica became a popular travel destination. I have so many wonderful memories of the island. It’s the only place where I can truly relax.”
Julia scribbled as quickly as she could. Lell turned to her. “Oh, and you can just type it up when you’re done, and you know, correct all the mistakes and put in any good vocabulary words that you think of. You’re a good writer.”
“Okay. So question two—”
“You can just ask them, you don’t have to number them.”
“Right. So, what do you bring on the plane with you?”
“I always bring my Hermès Birkin bag as a carry-on. Inside, I have my iPod with my favorite songs downloaded, my DVD player with the latest films—I get screener copies from my friends at the Academy. I have three giant bottles of Yucca water, which is from the Himalayas and is really the only water to drink, it’s so chock full of vitamins. I bring my Evian spritzer, to spray my face because the plane is so dry, and also my Kiehl’s lip balm and Crème de Mer, for the same reason. I apply the Crème de Mer religiously throughout the flight. I have cashmere slippers to keep my feet cozy and my shahtoosh to prevent chills. I always have the latest books and magazines, especially Vogue, because I never get a chance to read unless I am on vacation. I am simply too busy.”
“Wow, that seems like a lot of stuff in one bag. How can you carry it?”
Lell gave Julia a look. “I don’t.”
“Oh, right. And uh, don’t you have to go to the bathroom like a million times with all that water?”
“It’s really important to keep hydrated, Julia. Water is soooo good for you. And I have no problem peeing out all those toxins.”
“Well, airplane bathrooms are so gross, I try to avoid them.”
“Julia, I don’t fly commercially.”
“Right. Good point.”
“Next question?” said Lell, arching her eyebrow.
“Um, well, you sort of answered that one, what are you going to read on vacation?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, I thought, the magazines and latest books—”
“No. Call the director of publicity at Knopf, tell them to send over whatever will be the big summer books and tell them it’s for me. Then put in the titles.”
“Okay,” said Julia. “What do you bring to hotels to make the room your own?”
“Well, I always travel with Diptyque candles. Red Currant is my favorite scent. I bring lots of scarves, which I put on all the lamps in order to make the lighting my own. I also bring some coffee table books to put around the room, as well as pictures of my husband and family—in Pelham’s silver frames, which I put next to my bed.”
Wow, thought Julia. She must travel with trunks.
“Who is your favorite travel companion?”
“My friend Maria de Barca,” said Lell quickly. “We met at camp, and when we were in college we took a Eurail through Europe—wait,” said Lell, stopping herself.
“What?” asked Julia, looking up.
“How silly. I mean, obviously Will is my favorite travel companion. Scratch the Maria thing.”
“Do you want to put both?”
“No, where was my head? I mean, the best vacations of my life were with my husband. We went to the fashion shows together in Paris and Milan, to visit the Greeces in London, Felipe’s wedding in Madrid.”
Julia squinted her eyes at Lell. “Any trips just the two of you?”
“Just the two of us? You mean, where we didn’t see anyone we knew?”
“Yes.”
“Well, our honeymoon. Is that a question?” asked Lell, defensively.
“Sorry, no. I was just wondering.”
“I mean, we’re alone together every night after we get home,” said Lell, her voice trailing off. She was quiet for a second. “What’s the next question?”
As Julia continued on, posing questions and furiously scribbling Lell’s answers, she couldn’t help but wonder about Lell and Will’s marriage. He seemed like such an afterthought to Lell. Maybe it wasn’t as rosy as she wanted everyone to think. Definitely interesting.
chapter 19
The slushy ice crunched under the wheels of the dark blue Mercedes as it turned the corner onto Dune Road. Although the heat was blasting in the car, the frigid winter air managed to penetrate inside and nestle deep down into the bones of the passengers. There had been a heat wave the whole week—until now, naturally. Julia leaned her head against the steamy window and glanced out at the perfectly manicured hedges and trees. Even stripped of their foliage, they managed to look stately and proud. As the car sped by all of the mansions, Julia half expected to hear Robin Leach over the sound system, giving an informative tour of one of the richest zip codes in the United States.
Julia had been to East Hampton for a party for one of Douglas’s friend’s and had even spent a very long August night at a summer share in Quogue once, but the houses in those hamlets
were nothing compared to the grand, Gatsbyesque estates that lined the ocean in Southampton. One was bigger and fancier than the next, and Julia couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was doing there. She glanced at Lell, seated next to her, who had her eyes closed, and asked herself for the millionth time why Lell had taken such an interest in her. She had sensed some sort of rivalry between Polly and Lell. She had a feeling that she was some sort of chip on their board. But as Lell included her in more and more facets of her social and business lives, Julia found it harder than ever to believe that this was just a product of a seventh-grade classmates’ competition gone too far. Of course, Julia was thrilled with the new job—she felt she worked really well with celeb clients and her ideas for some promotional events had been very well received. But despite the fact that she was basically a constant presence at Lell’s side, she realized that she knew very little about what made her tick. Was she so insecure that she needed Julia there as a professional best friend? Did she just hate to be alone? If that was the case, why did Lell barely talk to her when they were alone? She was so hard to read. Sometimes Julia felt Lell must be extremely smart, and that she had some clearly defined master plan that Julia couldn’t even fathom. But there were other times, like when Lell was asked a pointed question by some top client and she would have little to offer, that Julia felt maybe Lell wasn’t so sharp after all. Or maybe she was just playing a game. The jury was still out. But the fact was that for all the time they spent together, they were not any closer than they had been the first day they met. There was still an air of formality between them that Julia felt would never dissipate.
Lell’s husband was another story. Where Lell was distant and distracted, Will came on strong with all the magnetism turned up to eleven. Julia had been trying not to think of him since she last saw him, but knowing that she was about to spend the entire weekend with him at Polly and Henny’s house made her excited. And she felt terrible about it. Being attracted to a married man was against everything she stood for. But she couldn’t help it.
“On the left, Ivan,” said Lell, opening her eyes and pointing to an enormous three-story shingled mansion. Her driver turned the car into the gravel driveway, past the giant flagpole that exhibited both the American flag and another that Julia assumed was the Mecox family crest.
Julia looked closely at the sign in front of the house, which read “Dune Cottage.”
“Dune Cottage? Is that meant to be ironic?” Julia asked with a laugh. This was no cottage.
“It’s one of the oldest houses out here that hasn’t been totally eaten by the hurricanes. It started as a cottage, but then Henny’s family just kept adding on to it.”
“It’s beautiful.”
They walked into the celadon-colored front hall and a maid rushed forward to help them with their coats. Julia took in the place. The house was truly enormous. There were views of the Atlantic from every window. Julia had never been in anything like it in her life. This was like some Shangri–la she’d only read about in the glossy pages of House & Garden. But although the scale of the house was impressive, the decor was decidedly subdued. Julia found it disappointing. She expected something more grand. It seemed very lived in, and there was the faint smell of old dog and mildew. Before Julia could get her bearings, Polly came rushing down the sweeping staircase, tailed by her two King Charles spaniels.
“Hooray! I’m so glad you guys got here early,” said Polly.
“Thank you so much for having me,” said Julia, as she tried to fend off the yapping dogs that were nipping at her heels.
“Please! It’s going to be fun. Guess who’s coming?” said Polly, stopping and staring directly at Lell.
“Who?”
“Alastair Keach.”
For someone who never betrayed her emotions, Julia finally saw Lell’s face light up. She quickly recovered. “Really?” she said in a feigned disinterested voice. “How’d that come about?”
“Ran into him at Nello’s last night. Don’t tell me you’re not psyched?”
“Why would I care?”
“You may be married, but you’re not dead,” said Polly, wagging her finger at Lell. She turned to Julia. “Alastair and Lell had a thing but then she met Will.”
“Please, Polly, that was years and years ago. He’s a total playboy who has a ‘thing’ with just about every woman in the world. Now which room am I in this weekend?” asked Lell, intent on switching the subject.
As Polly guided them upstairs, past citrus-colored room after room of sun-blanched chintz curtains, fading toile wallpaper, and rickety wicker furniture, Julia got more of an idea about how well-to-do Wasps spent their weekends. She followed Polly into a small corner room, which looked out on the stormy ocean slapping waves on the sand, and plopped down on the Laura Ashley comforter as soon as she was left alone. So Lell has a secret heartthrob. Things were getting interesting.
Julia didn’t realize she had napped for so long until she sat up in bed and saw that it was now dark out. She threw on her sample sale–purchased Stella McCartney pants and a cashmere fitted sweater and made her way through the maze downstairs via a rickety servants’ staircase.
She walked through the kitchen, where a maid and cook stood chopping vegetables and animatedly chatting in Spanish until they noticed her and froze. They exchanged nervous glances, then directed her to her right. Julia was mortified. She wanted to say, “Hey, I’m one of you! I’m hired help also!” but she feared that they wouldn’t understand her and it would all be misconstrued. Instead, she turned into a darkened pantry and heard voices coming from a room down the hall, but before she could open the swinging door, which promised light on the other side, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and was face-to-face with Will, who, before she even registered recognition, had pulled her into an embrace and giant liplock. Stunned, Julia reciprocated for a second before pulling away.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
Will smiled. “Oh, sorry, Julia, I thought you were my wife.”
Julia stared at him, unsure of what to do. Holy shit, she’d just inadvertently kissed her boss’s husband. Was he serious? Had he really mistaken her for Lell? It was dark in there. Whatever, this was bad, bad, bad. She was no home wrecker. But hell, he was a good kisser. With so many conflicting thoughts racing through her mind, she felt it best to take him at his word, or just pretend to. Even though they both knew he was lying.
“Okay, um, where is everybody?”
“In the library. I’m just getting more gin,” said Will, leaning down and looking through the pantry cupboards.
Julia was paralyzed. Should she say something else? Before she could speak, she heard Polly’s voice calling from the other room. “Will, where’s the booze?”
“Let’s go,” said Will, holding a bottle in one hand and gently placing his other hand on the small of her back. He pushed open the door with his shoulder and led her through the breakfast room to the dining room, past the living room, into the library where all eyes settled on Julia and Will at once, the most daunting pair belonging to Lell.
Polly was seated under a tartan throw on the dimpled leather couch in front of the roaring fire. “Good, you finally made it down. Will, give Henny the booze pronto, I am dying for a drink. Julia, sit down. Do you know everyone? Probably not. You know Hope and Charlie, and this is Alastair.”
Alastair, who had a thin pretty-boy face, and a smattering of blond hair that wouldn’t see him to forty, was dressed in perfectly ironed chino pants and a Thomas Pink button-down. He rose and stuck out his hand.
“So nice to meet you, Julia,” he said in a clipped British accent. So this is Lell’s type, thought Julia. An Oxbridge fop.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, and that’s Oscar,” said Polly, motioning to the attractive dark-haired man sitting awkwardly on a bar stool. Julia walked over to shake his hand and realized that they had already met.
“I know you. You came into Pelham’s to ge
t your mother a birthday present.”
In spite of himself, Oscar flushed. “Right, right. Nice to see you again.”
“Well, did she like it?” asked Julia.
“Yes, thanks, yep.” Oscar was once again flustered by Julia’s beauty; he was instantly tongue-tied.
Julia realized that she wouldn’t make more headway with Oscar, so she turned to her host. Henny stood behind the bar, mixing martinis.
“Shaken or stirred, darling?” Henny asked, feigning a British accent.
“Oh,” groaned Polly. “Will you please stop that, Henny? Is that like your only joke?”
Henny laughed and continued mixing drinks. He always took on the role of bartender, no matter if it was his home or someone else’s.
“When you’re done, Henny, go tell Rosario that we need more cheese and crackers,” ordered Polly.
After she got her drink, Julia went and sat down on in a plush checkered armchair. She looked around at the group. Polly was holding court with Lell and Alastair, waxing eloquent on the merits of Percy Sinclair, the child-care expert, whose work Polly had never read, but whose virtues she extolled nonetheless. She at least wanted to put on a front that she was somehow involved in little Quint’s life, even though he had been tucked away in the nursery all day and had not even so much as laid eyes on his parents. Lell and Alastair were pretending to listen, but Julia could see the sparkle in their eyes as they glanced at each other. Whatever attraction had once been between them seemed easily rekindled now. Julia nervously glanced over at Will, who was sitting on a bench, his hands clasped and his body leaning forward as he chatted obliviously with Hope and Charlie. He had a way of talking to people that made them feel as if they were the only ones in the room. She watched him laugh his confident laugh, and saw how his audience responded to his jokes, and felt almost proud—and a little territorial. Stop it, Julia! He’s not yours. He was Lell’s, but there was something so exciting about being coveted by someone whom everyone liked and admired. Despite herself, Julia had always gone for those guys who were center-of-attention types. They were so magnetic and alluring, and also often the eye of the storm. Just as Will finished up his conversation and gave a small smile to Julia, an indication that he was on his way over, Julia felt someone next to her.
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