Beach Lane Collection

by Melissa de la Cruz

  “Sugar? Is that you? I’m awful tired out right now,” Jeremy joked. “Or is it Poppy, hoping for some action?”

  “That’s so not funny,” she said, walking off, a little hurt. She didn’t think anything to do with the twins was in any way entertaining.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, running to catch up with her. “I’m just goofing around.”

  He nudged her in the midsection and Eliza smiled. She couldn’t really stay mad at him for long.

  “C’mon,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the au pairs’ cottage. They snuck inside the attic room, which was still mercifully empty. (Hell, wasn’t too often no one was there, after all.)

  “Nice digs,” Jeremy said, checking out the small, eight-by-ten room.

  “It’s not the Four Seasons, that’s for sure.” Eliza sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked at him expectantly. Now that she had ditched work to hang out with him, she wasn’t sure what they were going to do.

  She tried her hardest to look endearingly innocent, sitting there in her pink sundress and canvas espadrilles, waiting for him to make the first move.

  Jeremy took a seat next to her. “So.”

  “So.”

  They turned to each other, and the next thing Eliza knew, he was kissing her. Softly at first, on the lips, light little trembly things. She closed her eyes. He smelled like the dark, warm earth with a hint of sweat and the sun. One of his hands was tangled in her hair, the other caressed the small of her back.

  She returned his kisses eagerly, exploring the taste of his mouth. He tasted like mint and Dr. Pepper. He thought she smelled like coconuts and vanilla.

  He pulled her on his lap, and she buried her face in his chest.

  “That’s nice,” she said.

  “Mmm?”

  “Last night, did I tell you I live in Buffalo now?” she asked.

  “No, you just said you grew up on Park Avenue.”

  “I did.” She sighed, resting her face in the crook of his neck and liking the way his stubble felt on her skin.

  “My dad used to be a big deal on Wall Street. You might have heard of him. He was kind of famous. There was some scandal with the accounting stuff, and he lost his job and we had to leave our apartment. My parents had to sell everything—their art collection, the house here . . . and we moved to Buffalo.”

  “Buffalo’s not so bad.”

  “No, it’s worse.” Eliza moaned. “It’s awful. All the kids think I’m a total snob and no one talks to me. And the thing is, I don’t even do anything. I don’t have anything to be snobby about. My dad’s on unemployment, and my mom got a job at Kinko’s to make ends meet.”

  Jeremy was silent and stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, holding her close.

  It felt good to talk about all this. Eliza had never really told anyone what happened to her—what her life was really like. She was so comfortable around him, knowing that he wouldn’t judge her, somehow knowing she could tell him anything, anything at all about herself, and he would still like her.

  “I never realized I was so spoiled before. I used to charge my lunch at this fancy restaurant in the city every day—like, thirty-dollar hamburgers and stuff—and I never gave it a second thought. And I would go into Barneys and Bergdorfs and buy whatever I wanted. Sometimes I’d even harass the salespeople to find things at other stores if they didn’t have it in my size.”

  She paused, remembering those heady, halcyon days, when she had her own Town Car at her beck and call and her AmEx didn’t have a preset limit.

  “I know this sounds really shallow, but I really miss it. I miss it more than I ever thought I would. Before, I could walk into any room, and everyone thought I was so special just from looking at me. Sugar and Poppy used to be in my clique in high school. They were part of my group. My clothes were always the coolest, the newest, the most expensive. My hair was always the blondest. I had it highlighted every thirteen days. I was thinner than everybody. Even the building we lived in—it was the hardest one to get into in the city. I just had IT, you know? But now I can’t afford to have IT anymore. I just look like everyone else.”

  She looked at him, afraid she would find him laughing at her. Eliza knew they were stupid, silly, material things. But it practically broke her heart when the strap of her Mombassa handbag broke. She knew she would never be able to afford another one.

  “I know it’s kind of funny. I mean, please, I know people are starving somewhere. But I’m really kind of . . . sad,” she said.

  “You have every right to be,” Jeremy soothed. “It’s only natural. But Eliza—you have nothing to worry about. The first time I saw you, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And it had nothing to do with whatever “IT” is or whether you have the latest Dolce and Gambino or whatever; you just have this glow about you.”

  He took her face in his hands again, cupping her chin. “You’re absolutely beautiful. And I know we’re just getting to know each other, but I think you’re beautiful inside and out.”

  It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.

  She kissed him long and hard. One day she was going to show him just how much he meant to her.

  the only good thing anna perry has ever said

  ON MONDAY MORNING ANNA CALLED AN EARLY MEETING in her office. Mara and Eliza walked to the third floor, the only level they hadn’t yet explored. They found their boss inside a magnificent, book-lined room, sitting in front of dainty writing desk, dictating a memo to Laurie, who had her pen poised in readiness.

  “Thus I feel it is in everyone’s best interest that I chair the fund-raiser this year,” Anna said crisply. “I expect my choice of lead designer to bring in thousands in guaranteed contributions.”

  Anna looked up and raised a finger so Mara and Eliza wouldn’t interrupt. “All best, Mrs. Anna Farnsworth Perry. The number is on the fax machine.”

  She waved the girls to sit down. They sank into the velvet-upholstered armchairs. Mara looked around at all the beautiful hard-covered books on the walls. She wondered if Anna even bothered to read them. Eliza had a shy smile on her face. She was still thinking about Jeremy.

  “We have to take the kids back to the city this week to meet with their independent private school admissions counselor,” Anna said. “So we’ll have to skip this week’s progress report. You don’t mind, do you, girls?” She smiled.

  Mara and Eliza shook their heads. Not at all. They didn’t mind one bit. Especially since they had yet to have a weekly progress meeting anyway, and they were already more than halfway through the summer.

  “By the way, I haven’t seen that—Jacqui—around very much. Is she ill?” Anna asked, concerned.

  “No, she’s, uh—giving Cody his bath,” Mara improvised.

  “Yeah, she’s been working on his water treatment,” Eliza agreed. “Some kind of South American theory.”

  “Good. Good idea.” Anna nodded crisply. “Can you please excuse me for a moment, girls?” Anna teetered in her Manolos toward the hallway.

  “I’m so sick of covering up for her all the time!” Mara complained when Anna left the room to check on the fax she’d asked Laurie to send. She and Eliza had noticed some really strange clothes coming in and out of their cottage, but they hadn’t seen their third roommate in the flesh since . . . well, since the polo match, come to think of it.

  “Where do you think she is?” Mara asked.

  “Beats me. Maybe she has a new boyfriend. She’s certainly not sleeping here.”

  “I’m worried about her,” Mara said.

  “She’s fine. Jacqui’s a big girl. She can take care of herself,” Eliza said.

  “I hope so.” Mara frowned.

  “Don’t stress yourself over it; she’s not worth it. I mean, she obviously doesn’t even care to tell us where she is, so why should we bother?” Eliza had nothing against Jacqui except to begrudge her getting out of a fair share of the work. Another pair of hands wou
ld have been sorely appreciated the day William decided to try out his krav maga training on his sisters.

  Mara sighed. “I just hope she knows what she’s doing.”

  Anna returned to the room, looking a little ruffled and arguing with her hapless assistant. “I told you to type it up on my personal letterhead, not just a blank piece of paper.”

  “I’m so sorry; I didn’t check.”

  “Well, send it again. They might not even look at it! I know the committee is meeting today.”

  “Yes’m.” Laurie bowed, skittering out of the room.

  Anna looked surprised to find Eliza and Mara still sitting in front of her desk. “That’s it, girls. You can go. And don’t worry, we’ll be back for Super Saturday, and if you need anything . . . Ryan is in charge.”

  It was like music to their very tan ears.

  ryan calls a very important meeting in the hot tub

  THE REST OF THE WEEK FLEW BY IN A FUN-FILLED BLUR. Without any kids to look after, Eliza and Mara spent the entire time perfecting their tans and discovering new shopping streets. On Wednesday they hit the Saks in Southampton, Thursday was the Tanger Outlets in Riverhead, and on Friday they bought matching vintage Lilly Pulitzer dresses at Colette. They were also spending a lot time with the boys. Eliza and Jeremy had explored the vineyards on the North Fork, and Mara had been taking surf lessons from Ryan, sans Camille, thank goodness

  Friday night Ryan called a house meeting in the hot tub.

  “So I was thinking . . . it’s about time we had a little party,” Ryan said, grinning from behind the bubbles. “You know, just a small party—only close friends,” he suggested.

  “That sounds awesome!” Eliza cheered.

  “Sure, it sounds like fun.” Mara nodded.

  “Okay, so tomorrow night, then. Mara, you’ll come with me to get the food. Eliza, you have the best ID, so I’ll put you in charge of the booze. And Jacqui, hey, where the hell is Jacqui?” Ryan asked, his face furrowing. “Has anyone seen her lately?”

  Mara and Eliza shook their heads a little guiltily. They knew something was up with Jacqui—but both of them had been so wrapped up in their own lives, they barely paid attention to anything else.

  * * *

  The next evening Mara and Ryan set off to Barefoot Contessa to amass party treats. They were picking out smoked salmon platters and choosing between canapés when Mara’s phone started ringing incessantly.

  “Who’s trying to get a hold of you so bad?” Ryan asked, balancing several baguettes in one arm and holding a jar of caviar in the other.

  “Jim,” Mara explained. They hadn’t talked about Jim or Camille since their almost-kiss the week before, but they also hadn’t come close to anything like that again, so Mara was ready to chock it up to the cabernet (and the margaritas, ahem). “I just kind of need a break from us for a while. I really can’t deal with him right now.”

  “Mmm,” Ryan grunted.

  “But it’s not, like, permanent or anything,” she added hastily, for no good reason.

  Mara looked sidelong at Ryan while she pretended to pick out tortilla chips, and she couldn’t help but notice that maybe, just maybe, he looked a little down when she’d said it wasn’t “permanent.”

  eliza always gets what she wants, even if she doesn’t want it anymore

  “I THOUGHT I SAID CLOSE FRIENDS ONLY,” RYAN GROUSED as he surveyed the fully packed living room, dining room, ballroom, game room, pool area, patio, and sundeck. Everyone under the age of twenty-one in the Hamptons was present and accounted for, including several rock star offspring and the cast of MTV reality shows.

  Sugar and Poppy had done what they did best—spread the news—and keeping things “small” was in no way part of their agenda. They had even hired a publicist, who had secured a party permit and made sure there was valet parking for guests.

  “Great idea, bro!” Sugar hooted at Ryan as she was carried, sphinx-like, by an army of admirers toward the back cabana.

  Ryan shook his head. Oh, well, might as well enjoy it. He turned up the stereo so that the rafters shook to the beat of the Hamptons’ perennial “It’s All About the Benjamins.”

  Already all the bedrooms were occupied, and the smell of pot was strong in the air. A clique of British teens were huddled around the glass dining room, and a fedora-wearing dealer (a Bennington alum on his summer vacation) was making the rounds.

  Ryan found Mara standing to the side, sipping a glass of white wine.

  “You having fun?”

  “Who are all these people?” she asked in astonishment.

  “Beats me. They must all be my sisters’ friends.” Ryan laughed. “C’mon, I see my boys down by the patio.”

  * * *

  Eliza kept an eye out for Jeremy. He was supposed to be here by now. He had promised he would be there by eleven, after he got off his second job as a waiter at TGI Friday’s in Hauppauge. She fluffed her hair in the mirror and made herself another vodka tonic. Things were going so well between them, every time he left her side, she missed him instantly. She didn’t know she could feel this way about anyone.

  She spotted Kit in the crowd and raised her glass hello. He and Taylor had broken up the week before, and Eliza had been trying to cheer him up. As much as she was friends with Taylor, she always thought Kit deserved better. A lot of her old friends were at the party, but every time one of them waved her over, she just shook her head and smiled.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” a voice called as she stepped out to check the driveway for Jeremy’s pickup again.

  She spotted Charlie Borshok leaning on a pillar, completely wasted.

  “Nowhere.”

  Charlie took a few steps over and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Liza, you smell so good. I missed you, baby.”

  “That’s really nice, Charlie,” she said, twisting her body away.

  It was what she had wanted to hear all summer. That he wanted her back. That they were the golden couple again. That she was still the same girl who had snagged the richest boy in New York. But now she was looking for Jeremy.

  * * *

  A half hour later, Jeremy’s pickup truck pulled into the driveway. He was still wearing his uniform T-shirt and apron. Eliza ran out and leapt into his embrace.

  “Hey, baby.” He grinned at her.

  “I MISSED YOU!”

  She hugged her legs around his waist tighter and whispered, “Let’s go find somewhere we can be alone.”

  jacqui has always been smarter than you’d think

  NOW, THIS WAS A PARTY! JACQUI THOUGHT, WALKING into the Perry mansion, momentarily forgetting that she was employed there.

  She’d been drinking all afternoon. She felt fantastic—except for the wooziness and the dizziness and the slight double vision, that is. But who cared? She snuggled up to Leo. Leo, nice, faithful Leo, who made her forget, well, almost everything.

  So what if his lovemaking wasn’t earth-shattering? Not to mention that his parents’ three-bedroom shack in Bridgehampton was nothing compared to Luke’s corner wing on the Van Varick estate. And so what if he was slightly cross-eyed and had an irritating laugh? None of it mattered. He was Luke’s best friend. And as every girl knows, there’s nothing a guy hates more than sharing.

  Jealousy was a terrible thing, and Jacqui knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted Luke to feel as bad as she did when she found out about his girlfriend. She wanted him to squirm. She wanted him to suffer. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to break his heart—but she could damn well try to shatter his ego. It was time for her to go public with her latest conquest.

  “Where’s the bar?” Leo asked, yelling in her ear.

  “Over there!” she screamed, pointing to where Ryan was mixing frozen daiquiris in a blender.

  They picked their way past a group playing Twister and several clumps of people dancing on the sofa (Anna would die if they knew what they were doing to her Louis Quinze) and were stopped in their tracks by Poppy Perry, in a shredd
ed Van Halen T-shirt and micro denim hot pants.

  “I don’t remember inviting you,” she sneered, giving Leo a death’s-head stare.

  “What’s up with the bruha?” Jacqui asked.

  Leo looked sheepish. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

  Poppy’s eyes followed them as they moved across the room, where another angry face met them.

  “What’s the deal?” Luke said, coming up in Leo’s face close enough to spitting vicinity. “Are you here with her?” he demanded, giving his pal a hard shove.

  “I’m here with him,” Jacqui said, pushing at Luke’s chest with a pointy fingernail. “Do you have a problema with that?”

  “What’s going on, honey?” Karin asked, appearing by Luke’s side. “Oh, hi, Leo. And Jacqui, right?” she said pleasantly.

  “Nothing—everything’s fine. Get me another beer,” Luke spat.

  Karin walked away meekly as the three of them glowered at each other.

  eliza teaches jeremy the o.c. drinking game

  IN THE PERRYS’ PRIVATE SCREENING ROOM THE DIGITAL projection screen blazed a sixteen-foot-tall upset-looking Mischa Barton explaining to Benjamin Mackenzie why she couldn’t see him anymore. “They’re breaking up! You need to take a drink!” Eliza cheered.

  Eliza had found the only room in the house that wasn’t already locked and in use by an amorous couple, or occupied by a group of kids passing a roach around. Not everyone knew about the basement screening room.

  On-screen, Ben apologized for being from “a different county.”

  “Chug?” Jeremy asked, holding his shot glass.

  “No! Only when he actually says ‘Chino,’ ” Eliza said, explaining the rules of the game.

  “Oh. Sorry. I don’t watch this show.”

  “If you did, I’d worry. Oh, look, Summer’s going shopping. Double chug!”

  “I say we do body shots instead,” Jeremy said, pouring another shot of Cuervo and handing her a wedge of lime. “Hmmm . . . where will I do mine?” he asked, lifting up Eliza’s shirt to expose her pierced belly button. She had gotten it in Greenport one afternoon when he told her he thought they were sexy. He pulled down her skirt a bit to expose her jutting hip bones and bent his head to lick her in the shallow of her stomach.