Juicy Secrets

by Victoria Ashton

  Dr. M-C picked up the phone and began dialing. “You’ll see, Heather, you will simply adore it.” Dr. M-C spoke into the phone as Heather slunk over to Liz and gripped her hand. “Claremont Riding Academy? This is Dr. Mayra Markham-Collins calling…why yes, it is the same Dr. Markham-Collins who wrote the bestselling child psychology book Good Boy, Bad Boy, My Boy, Your Boy. How kind of you to say so.” Dr. M-C beamed. Liz rolled her eyes. Dr. M-C loved being famous.

  “Yes,” Dr. M-C continued, “I would like to set up lessons for my daughter, Miss Heather Markham-Collins. No, not at all, she ADORES horses….”

  “Mommy, I don’t!” Heather dashed forward and tugged her mother’s arm.

  “Well, nooooo, not an expert. She has had some experience, but really she needs work on everything.”

  Liz shook her head. The only experience Heather had with horses were the wooden ones on the Central Park carousel. And even those scared the little girl.

  Dr. M-C shook Heather’s arm off and kept talking. “Good. We’ll see you Monday afternoon. Where do you suggest we go to get her supplies?”

  “But, Mommy!” Heather shrieked.

  Dr. M-C glared at Heather with a look that instantly silenced her. Heather knew when she was beaten.

  “Copperfields it is, then,” Dr. Collins said. She hung up, a broad grin on her wide face. “Liz,” she said, “tomorrow I want you to take Heather to Copperfields. You are to ask for Eleanor. She will organize everything that Heather needs.”

  “Yes, Dr. Markham-Collins.” Like Heather, Liz knew when it was useless to argue.

  “Good! That’s all settled!” Dr. Markham-Collins swept out of the room. The kitchen instantly seemed larger.

  “Please, Liz, don’t make me!” Heather begged.

  “Don’t worry, Heather,” Liz said soothingly. “It will be fine! You’ll love it!”

  And I’m a big fat liar!

  CHAPTER THREE

  the deals

  Adrienne cringed at the sound of a loud and crashing chord.

  “I hate Mendelssohn,” Emma whined. She slammed the piano keyboard shut. “He doesn’t know one iota about composition!”

  Adrienne hid a smile. Emma was so far advanced for her age that it was nice to see her throw a normal kid-fit for a change. “I don’t know, Emma,” she teased. “He has kind of survived the test of time.”

  Emma glared at Adrienne. “Ohhhhhhhh-kay,” she moaned. She started practicing again.

  Adrienne settled more comfortably on the sofa and stared down at her homework. Luckily, her cell phone rang. Adrienne glanced at the screen: Lily Singh.

  “Hey, there, Adrienne!” Lily greeted her in her ever-cheerful voice. She was one of Adrienne’s closest friends at Van Rensselaer High, the best public school in the city, where they were both juniors.

  “Hey, Lily, what’s up?”

  “Tamara and I are going to Café Dante in the Village,” Lily said. “Why don’t you come, too? We might catch a movie since it’s Friday. Avoid homework till tomorrow.”

  “Sounds cool!” Adrienne said, glancing at her watch. “It’s already dinnertime. I just have to wait for Mrs. Warner to come home so I can get paid.”

  “Excellent. Invite Liz, too,” Lily said. “See you later!” She clicked off.

  Adrienne was just about to dial Liz when she heard the elevator door opening into the vestibule of the Warners’ apartment. Adrienne crossed into the entrance hall, hoping that it would be Mrs. Warner.

  A small dog with tufts of hair raced into the hall and promptly hid under a credenza. The dog was followed by four doormen carrying bags from Alexander McQueen, Stella McCartney, Prada, and Dior.

  Oh, no, Adrienne thought, her shoulders sagging. It’s Cameron!

  Even though Adrienne was over Brian, she would never forget the way Cameron had treated her. She had befriended Adrienne solely to steal her boyfriend. She used Adrienne to throw parties just so there would be someone to blame in case they got caught. And every chance Cameron got, she found a way to put Adrienne down.

  “Thanks, guys,” Cameron said to the porters. She handed each of them a crisp $100 bill as they stepped back into the elevator.

  “What a day!” Cameron said, smoothing the front of her Roberto Cavalli top. “I am totally shopped out.”

  “Sorry it was so rough, Cam,” Adrienne said. “Listen, do you know when your stepmom is coming home? I’m only scheduled till Emma’s dinnertime, and she owes me five hundred dollars for last week.”

  “Oh, wow,” Cameron said, her nearly silver eyes wide. “Is that why Christine gave me five hundred dollars this morning? I just used it for tips for the boys downstairs.” She laughed. “I mean, how could I know that you only make five hundred dollars. I was afraid that I wasn’t tipping enough!”

  Adrienne’s jaw tensed. Fine, she thought. You want to be that way? She could play Cameron’s put-down game, too. After all, she’d learned from the best: Cameron herself.

  “Cam, when you were out shopping, did you go from Bergdorf’s to Alexander McQueen down in the meatpacking district?” Adrienne asked.

  “Sure,” Cameron replied, tossing her long, white-blond hair over one shoulder. “Why?”

  “Oh, I was just wondering if you had seen the huge banner hanging across the front of the New York Public Library,” Adrienne said. “You know the one. It has an enormous picture of Mimi von Fallschirm on it.”

  Cameron winced as if she had been hit. Score! Adrienne thought triumphantly. Mimi was a sore topic for Cameron, and Adrienne knew it.

  “I did,” Cameron said, glowering. “I can’t believe that her big-nosed, fat old face is up there. It should have been ME on that poster.”

  “But you didn’t win Deb of the Year,” Adrienne reminded Cameron sweetly—just in case Cam had recently had a lobotomy and didn’t remember the crushing defeat. For the girls in Cameron’s orbit, being named Debutante of the Year was the be-all and end-all of making it in “society.”

  “And,” Adrienne added, “Mimi is a princess, Cam. You can’t top that. You’ll just have to face the fact that she’s the committee chair for the Young Lions of the New York Public Library. Just one of the perks of being Deb of the Year.”

  “It’s so unfair!” Cameron moaned. “I should be the committee chair.” Her eyes narrowed. “And trust me, I will be.”

  “Isn’t it a little late?” Adrienne smirked.

  “It is never too late. Not for me. I was meant to be the chair, and I will be.” Cameron gave Adrienne a sweet smile. “And you’re going to help me.”

  “No way, Cameron,” Adrienne said.

  “If you don’t help me,” Cameron said, “I would wonder how much longer you’ll be working here.” She did a flawless imitation of her stepmother: “Adriana, we are a family, and families help one another.”

  Adrienne sighed. She’d heard that refrain all too many times.

  “Besides,” Cameron added, the sweet routine dropped entirely. “We had a deal, remember?”

  “What deal?” Adrienne asked innocently, but she cringed inside. She had hoped Cameron had forgotten their conversation at the Manhattan Cotillion. To her great relief, Cameron hadn’t brought it up again in the two weeks that had passed.

  Cameron pointed her perfectly manicured finger at Adrienne. “Now don’t pretend you don’t remember, darling. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.” Cameron took a step closer. Instinctively, Adrienne shrank back as if Cameron were contagious.

  “You help me dethrone Princess Mimi von Foulschirm,” Cameron crooned, draping her thin, silk-clad arm across Adrienne’s shoulder, “and I will let you in on the secret Parker Devlin is keeping from your gal-pal Liz. And, believe me, this is something she really must know.”

  Adrienne sighed. There was definitely some kind of trouble between Liz and Parker. Their relationship alternated between awesome and awful.

  “So…?” Cameron wheedled. “Will you hold up your part of the bargain?”

  Adrienn
e sighed again. Cameron could make her life hell, as she had in the past. Besides, what did she care if Mimi was toppled from her position as a chair of some benefit Adrienne would never attend?

  “Fine. I’ll help you,” Adrienne said. “So what is this big secret of Parker’s?”

  “No, no, no.” Cameron smiled her megawatt smile. “First you help me. Then I help you.”

  Adrienne was getting frustrated. She had experienced this trapped feeling far too frequently since becoming a nanny. If it wasn’t Mrs. Warner somehow getting her to put in extra time with extra responsibilities, it was Cameron stringing her along, just as she was doing right now.

  “What exactly do you want me to do?” Adrienne asked. She braced herself for the worst, since the worst was generally what Cameron had to offer.

  Cameron put a finger to her porcelain cheek as if she were thinking hard. “Well, that’s just it. I haven’t come up with the perfect plan—yet. But when I do, you’ll be the first to know!” Cameron turned to leave, and then stopped.

  “Oh, and Adrienne,” Cameron added, smiling, “I was so teasing you about the money. Christine still has it. Ciao!”

  Adrienne shut her eyes and counted to ten. Twice. She only opened them after she could no longer hear Cameron’s Manolos clicking on the marble floor.

  “Adriana?” a familiar voice called from the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Is that you?” It was Christine Olivia Warner, Cameron’s stepmom and Adrienne’s employer.

  She’s been home all along? Adrienne thought. I wish I had known—I’d have been so out of here.

  “Yes, Mrs. Warner?” Adrienne called back. Adrienne had learned to answer to almost any name since in all this time the COW rarely managed to get her name right.

  Mrs. Warner appeared at the door of her suite. She was dressed in elegant, bone-colored silk trousers and a pale peach blouse that flattered her cosmetically enhanced skin. Her blond hair was well-sprayed. “There you are!” she said. “At last. I need your help on a number of things….”

  “Um, Mrs. Warner?” Adrienne said, noticing once again that the COW always managed to come up with her correct name when she was asking for a favor. “My day is actually over, and I need to get going.”

  Adrienne spoke very quickly so that Mrs. Warner couldn’t interrupt her. The COW had an infuriating ability to rope Adrienne into all kinds of extra tasks. Adrienne was determined to finally set some boundaries with this wacky family.

  Mrs. Warner raised an eyebrow as far as her Botox would let her.

  “In fact,” Adrienne continued, “I was just waiting around until you could pay me…?”

  “Oh, very well,” Mrs. Warner said, clearly irritated. She vanished for a moment, then returned holding out several crisp bills. “Here.” She handed Adrienne the money.

  “Thanks!” Adrienne said good-bye to Emma and picked up her backpack in the hall closet. She raced to the kitchen to hop into the service elevator—and freedom.

  “Hey! What’s your hurry, gorgeous?” Adrienne stopped. It was Graydon Warner, Cameron’s older half brother. His silky brown hair, dark eyes, square jaw, and killer bod did nothing to disguise the fact that he was a total sleaze. He was always trying to cop a feel, or was making lewd remarks, and was generally annoying to Adrienne. This was the first time she’d seen him since the Manhattan Cotillion, and she really hoped it would be her last for a looooooong while.

  “Gotta go, Graydon,” Adrienne said. “See you around.”

  “Of course you will,” Graydon said. “After all, we have a hot date.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Adrienne said. “Dream on.”

  “Why so mean?” Graydon pouted. Then he grinned a sly, slow grin. “You remember our deal, don’t you?”

  Adrienne blinked. She had totally forgotten. I must have blocked it because it was just too horrible to remember, Adrienne thought. First Cameron and now this?

  “You said that if I helped you and Liz get into the Manhattan Cotillion, you would go on one date with me,” Graydon said. “So when do I collect?”

  Adrienne sighed. It was true. Liz had begged Adrienne to agree to Graydon’s demands. Parker was that important to Liz, and Liz was that important to Adrienne. Without Graydon’s help, they never would have gotten into the ball. Liz would never have gotten Parker back that night, Adrienne would never have realized what a loser her ex-boyfriend Brian was, and Adrienne wouldn’t have seen Cam’s humiliated face when she lost Deb of the Year to Princess Mimi von Fallschirm. Watching Cameron lose almost made the promise worthwhile.

  Almost.

  “Don’t nannies keep their promises?” Graydon pressed.

  Adrienne shuddered. “All right,” she said. “One date and that is it. One! No groping, no gross behavior, you pay, and I can go home whenever I want. Deal?”

  Graydon laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Adrienne. I like that. Let’s make it tomorrow night—before you can figure out a way to back out. Seven thirty. You work Saturday, right? I’ll pick you up here.”

  “Whatever, Graydon.” Adrienne stepped into the waiting elevator and pushed the button.

  “See you then.” Graydon winked at her as the elevator door closed.

  “Ugh,” Adrienne groaned. How did my best friend’s love life make my life so complicated?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  gotta take this

  On Saturday Liz made sure to get home from outfitting Heather at Copperfields with plenty of time to get ready for her date with Parker. They were going to Jack Chasen’s party, and Liz dressed with special care. The deep burgundy silk Ghost dress—paid for by saving several weeks of nanny pay—made her pale skin shimmer and emphasized her long legs. She pulled her dark curls into a ponytail, letting soft tendrils frame her face. The look was sexy—and casual chic. Just what she wanted. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with Parker’s superrich friends, and she wanted to make sure she made a good impression—or, at least, fit in.

  There were still times when insecurity overcame Liz, and Parker’s occasional erratic behavior cast a gloom over her sunny worldview. It didn’t help that Liz had met Parker through Cameron Warner. Cameron and her satellites seemed to take delight in making Liz feel as if she were a scholarship wannabe among the legitimate privileged class. They were all stunned when it turned out that Parker wasn’t just slumming with Liz—that he actually seemed to genuinely care for her.

  “Have I mentioned yet that you are the hottest girl here?” Parker asked as they walked into Jack Chasen’s townhouse on East Seventieth Street.

  “Twice,” Liz said, smiling up at him. “I might just start to believe it—”

  “You should,” Jack interrupted, “’cause it’s true. Devlin, take your date’s coat so I can get her a drink and try to steal her away from you.”

  Liz giggled, enjoying the attention, and glad to know that Jack was really joking; he had been dating Miranda Dalziel for months, and everyone knew it.

  Parker helped Liz off with her coat and disappeared in search of the attendant hired for the evening.

  “Come on,” Jack said. “Let me get you something to drink.”

  Liz followed Jack into the dining room. It was large and basically empty, except for the huge mahogany table covered with wine, beer, and fixings for mixed drinks. Scattered around the room were kids from Parker’s world: the superrich set. Liz nodded at a few faces she recognized from Pheasant-Berkeley School for Girls or from other dates with Parker.

  “What’s your pleasure?” Jack asked, picking up an empty crystal glass from the enormous table.

  “Me, I hope,” Parker said, stepping up behind Liz. He put his hand on the small of her back, sending delicious shivers up her spine.

  “You’ll do for now,” Liz teased.

  Parker grinned. “I think I can take over from here, Jack.”

  “Enjoy,” Jack said, putting the glass back down. He wandered off to greet a couple who had just arrived.

  “I’m glad Jack didn’t manage to steal you away f
rom me,” Parker said, wrapping his hands around Liz’s waist.

  “Not possible,” Liz said, stretching up to give him a kiss.

  “Good,” Parker said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box. “Then I don’t have to return this.”

  Liz recognized the orange box of the House of Hermès. Smiling at Parker, she opened it.

  A heavy gold bracelet lay inside, made of the chains and links of horse bridles.

  “I thought you could use it since you’re going to be hanging out at the stables,” Parker said, grinning.

  Liz was touched by the thoughtful gift—and blown away by the incredible quality, not to mention the cost of the beautiful bracelet. “I can’t believe that you remembered that I have to start taking Heather to riding lessons next week.”

  “I always try to know where you are,” Parker said. “Gotta keep an eye on you!”

  He leaned in to give her a real kiss, but before his lips touched Liz’s, his cell phone rang.

  Parker straightened up and pulled out his cell. He glanced down at the number on the phone display.

  “Gotta take this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for Liz to respond, he spun around and left the room.

  I hate that cell phone! Liz thought. Irritated, she stalked over to the table and picked up some grapes. She popped one into her mouth and looked around the room. The party seemed to be couples only, and everyone was moving quickly into make-out mode.

  And here I am, alone and stuffing my face, Liz thought. That is so typical. Liz dropped the grapes back on the table and went downstairs to find Parker.

  Liz peeked into a library and a music room, and finally into the kitchen, where she startled two large Persian cats that immediately leaped onto counters and hissed at her. “Thanks,” Liz said sarcastically to the cats. “Like I don’t already feel like I’m trespassing.”

  Liz looked out the kitchen window into the garden and saw Parker standing alone, talking into his cell phone. He looks serious, Liz thought. Concerned, she quickly slipped outside.

  “…so what does this mean for us, then?” Parker said, his voice trembling.