Beach Lane

ryan isn’t exactly having breakfast in bed, but . . .





MARA RAN DOWN THE STAIRS AND OUT THE DOOR OF the au pairs’ cottage, slamming the door behind her. God, what was wrong with Jim? Selfish? Selfish?

Mara scurried across the lawn toward the main house. It was almost noon—God, they’d been out late last night!—Ryan usually got back from his morning surf right about now.

He was probably in the kitchen making one of his favorite double-decker submarine sandwiches—the housekeeper always made sure to pick up fresh mortadella, prosciutto, bologna, and salami from Papassini’s just for him. He and Mara had shared a big fat hoagie every Saturday morning now, so her timing was probably going to be about perfect.

She walked quickly up the stone pathway to the glass-enclosed kitchen. Sure enough, Ryan was there—still wearing one half of his wet suit (the other half he’d peeled down from the heat). In his right hand he wielded a dinner knife thick with yellow mustard and in the other hand . . . he was holding the waist of a very pretty girl in a matching folded-down black wet suit and red string bikini top.

Mara was certain she had seen that girl somewhere, and with a sick twist in her stomach she realized it was the girl from the polo match. The redhead Ryan was talking to while she was arguing with Jim on the phone.

“Ryan—stop—no!” The girl squealed, giggling as Ryan pretended to flick mustard on her cheek.

“You love it.” He grinned.

He popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and chased it with a kiss.

Oh.

Mara stood in front of the kitchen window, completely taken aback and unsure of what to do. She was so surprised to see him with someone.

Someone else—that is—but she tried to ignore it. C’mon, it wasn’t as if I was expecting him to . . . It wasn’t as if I thought of him as . . . And there’s Jim, although . . .

But just as Mara’s face was beginning to contort with some strange understanding of what was really going on here, Ryan looked up.

“Mar—”

But Mara was already halfway down the back stairs, more embarrassed and confused than ever.





eliza is learning a lot this summer, like the atkins diet isn’t worth it





IN THE FRONT YARD ELIZA THOUGHT SHE HAD THINGS under control. She had gotten all the kids in their beach clothes without too much of a struggle. William was already strapped in and Cody was in his child seat, which left only Zoë and Madison to go.

“Where are we going?” Zoë asked, holding a raggedy copy of Where the Wild Things Are to her chest.

“Same place we always go,” Eliza replied, checking the seat belt.

“I’m hungry,” Madison said.

“You’re always hungry.” Eliza sighed.

“Hi, Jer’my,” Zoë called from the backseat.

Eliza turned to see Jeremy carrying a hose and a rake, walking out from the rear shed. He tipped his cap.

“HI, JEREMY!” William mimicked.

“Come get ice cream with us!” Madison said.

“Yeah, come get ice cream!” Zoë agreed.

William took up the call, and soon all the kids were begging Jeremy to come to the Snowflake with them.

“You guys getting sundaes?” Jeremy asked. “Which ones are your favorite?”

“Hot fudge,” William said promptly.

“Good choice, my man.” Jeremy nodded.

“Butterscotch,” said Zoë.

“Even better.”

“Can you? Can you? Can you?” Zoë asked. “Come with us?”

“Sure, why not?” Jeremy said, winking at Eliza. “I’m done for the day.”

“I don’t mind.” Eliza shrugged. “I was going to wait for Mara, but I heard her fighting with her boyfriend on the phone, so I figured she might need a break.”

“Then it’s just us.” Jeremy smiled.

* * *

The Snowflake was a cute retro-fifties-style diner on nearby Pantigo Road, famous for its juicy hamburgers and vats of homemade ice cream. Eliza eased the Range Rover into the parking lot next to the creepy statue of a six-foot-tall hot dog squeezing ketchup on itself. It was famous in the Hamptons as “the weird hot dog.”

The Perry kids lined up in front of the ice cream counter, peering into the freezer.

“I want Tasti D-Lite,” Madison decided. “Poppy and Sugar always order it.”

“They don’t have nonfat ice cream here,” Eliza said patiently. It was one of the reasons the Snowflake was so popular. “And anyway, it’s not really that good for you, sweetie. It has more sugar than regular ice cream so you’ll be hungry again in an hour, plus it doesn’t taste as good!”

Eliza felt bad for the kid. Sugar, Poppy, and Anna, with their fickle, macrobiotic diets, food phobias, and addiction to laxatives, weren’t the best examples of healthy nutrition. Lately Madison had been mimicking their food indulgences—not eating for hours and then gorging herself, which made it even worse. But at least she hadn’t learned the twins’ trick of post-meal excursions to the bathroom to throw up. Not yet, that is.

“Eating healthy is all about moderation,” Eliza said. “Why don’t you have one scoop of butter pecan instead of the whole sundae that you usually do? You’ll feel better and you won’t crave sweets later.”

If there’s one thing Eliza knew about, it was the Zone, the South Beach Diet, Atkins, Sugar Busters, and portion control. Mostly she thought it was a bunch of hooey—who can give up carbs for good?—but she’d taken the major tenets to heart years ago.

Once the kids were properly sated, they piled back in the car. Eliza backed out of the lot and wheeled the car to their usual destination.

“Have you ever been to Two Mile Hollow Beach?” Jeremy asked.

“Isn’t that the gay beach?”

“Yeah, but only on the far side. On the other side it’s all families. And it’s great. It’s so empty and doesn’t have the scene of Georgica. We should go there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just take this next right and it’s straight down.”

Just as Jeremy had predicted, Two Mile Hollow Beach was paradise compared to the towel-to-towel congestion of Georgica. Down beyond, Eliza spied groups of handsome gay men arrayed around lavish picnic spreads, complete with champagne and caviar, while several random lesbian couples sunned underneath golf umbrellas.

“This is great!” Eliza said, unzipping her Juicy Couture hoodie and taking off her shorts. She was wearing a sleek black bandeau bikini with boy-cut briefs monogrammed with the letter E. She looked like a throwback to one of those Vargas pinup girl calendars, with her long blond hair in a high ponytail with a thick black headband.

“I always come here. It’s the best beach in the Hamptons—it’s so private,” Jeremy said.

The kids seemed to agree. Already William was engrossed in building the largest sand castle he could imagine—he always had to fight for space on the other beach. Madison had taken off her shorts—she was always too self-conscious to be seen in her bathing suit, but since there was no one else around, she didn’t seem to care. Zoë just snuggled next to Eliza, seemingly grateful for the company.

Eliza pulled out a glossy magazine from her tote bag. Zoë had forgotten Where the Wild Things Are at the ice cream parlor, but Eliza was determined get her reading. She flipped through the pages. Maybe the reason Zoë wasn’t learning was because she was reading all those boring books about puppies and flowers and that ilk. Maybe if they gave the kid something more interesting to read . . .

“Here, Zoë, let’s start with this,” Eliza said, finding a promising page. “How to blow his mind in twenty-six ways.” Eliza pointed down the column. It was alphabetical! So educational. “A is for Always Be Ready.”

“Always be ready,” Zoë repeated, her eyes wide at the picture of a woman in the lying on silk sheets.

“For what?” She asked Eliza.

Eliza didn’t quite know how to answer that one. “Hmm . . . let’s try something else?” She asked, paging through to a fashion spread. “Here we go. Packing for a weekend in the country.”

Jeremy, who had been silently appalled the whole time, burst out laughing.

“I dare you to kiss her,” Zoë turned to Jeremy.

Jeremy blushed. “A dare is a dare,” he said solemnly, and brushed Eliza’s cheek with a quick kiss.

Eliza was flattered. She was surprised at how much fun she was having. It was always such a hassle finding parking, getting a space, and making sure no one from her old high school spotted her with the kids. This way she could actually relax. And that kiss wasn’t too bad either. . . .

“What are you doing later?” Jeremy asked. “My friends are having a bonfire in Montauk tonight.”

Just as Eliza was about to ask what time, her cell phone rang with a piercing shrill.

“Sorry—let me just take this,” she said. “Oh, Lindsay, hi! Charlie’s having a party? No, he didn’t tell me. Tonight? Oh my God, I’ve been dying to get in there. Sure, I’m not doing anything! What time should I meet you guys?”

She clicked off, a happy smile on her face.

Jeremy turned away and scowled at the ocean. Did she really just make other plans right in front of me after I asked her out?

“About tonight . . .,” Eliza said hesitantly. “Something just came up for later. But maybe we can still do dinner or something?”

“Sure.” Jeremy nodded. He wouldn’t normally have said okay, but there was something about Eliza that made guys agree to lots of things they normally wouldn’t.





jacqui is still testing out that brazilian saying





MEANWHILE SOMEWHERE IN BRIDGEHAMPTON WAS A bed with two lumps underneath. Jacqui and her new boyfriend were spooning, and she was happy to feel the warmth of another person next to her. It was the most comfortable she’d felt in weeks.

“Oh . . . Luca . . .,” Jacqui whispered.

A tousled head shot up. “What did you say?” he asked Jacqui. “What did you call me?”

“Leo . . . Leo . . . I said, ‘Oh, Leo,’ ” Jacqui explained, peppering his face with kisses. “I said, ‘Leo . . . meu amor. . . .’ ”

Leo settled back down next to her, even though he wasn’t quite sure that Jacqui was thinking about him. Jacqui lay there, thinking of how Leo was a bad idea she couldn’t shake. Jacqui couldn’t help herself. She was the type of girl who always had a boyfriend, and she needed to do something to stop herself from crying all the time, and finding solace in Leo’s skinny arms seemed to do the trick.

After the scene at the polo match Jacqui hadn’t had the heart to continue working. Who could work when your heart was stomped on and thrown to the dogs? Instead she holed up in Leo’s room, watching bad television and raiding the fridge. She had gone back to the Perry house to pick up clothes when she knew Eliza and Mara were out with the kids.

She didn’t want to face them. They had been so nice to her at the match, but she just wanted to be alone, or at least alone in the only way she knew how to be. She knew she was going to get in trouble, but she was in a foreign country, in a place that only meant something to her because of the guy she loved, and somehow everything that she knew was actually important—like her job—just . . . faded away. She thought about maybe just getting on the next plane back to Sao Paolo and forgetting all about the Hamptons. She hadn’t even spent any of the money she’d made so far. That morning, she’d looked up ticket prices on Leo’s laptop. But right now, she didn’t even have the energy to leave the shelter of Leo’s bedroom, and she had a feeling that feeling wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

Anna would probably fire her when she got back, but Jacqui was too far gone to care.

How silly of her to think that anyone could really love her. Their two weeks in São Paolo were nothing but a mirage. What had Eliza said? He was a “player.” Someone who pretended to be in love with her, but he was really only in love with her body. Just like every other guy on the planet. No one ever got past her looks to bother with the real person inside.

Leo seemed different at first. Yeah, he was always telling her how beautiful she was, but he was also always mentioning how lucky he felt. When she looked at him, she didn’t feel any butterflies, and when he kissed her, she didn’t close her eyes and see fireworks. But she could pretend. She was good at that.

He was sweet. He was a nice guy. And right now, he would have to do.





mara finally orders the right kind of drink





SHE COULD GET USED TO THIS LIFE, MARA THOUGHT AS SHE sipped on her second frozen star fruit margarita. The cool, sweet, and tart concoction tasted like liquid heaven, and she was getting a nice buzz from the pure agave tequila. Better yet, Ryan had asked her to come with him to the party—as friends of course—it wasn’t a date or anything. But Mara had been flattered enough that she was trying very hard to put the weirdness of that morning behind her.

The two of them shared a prime outdoor table with an ocean view, underneath a heat lamp. Lucky Yap had swished by and took yet another photo of the two of them. By now it was such a common occurrence, Mara knew how to pose to show off her best side.

Ryan explained it was some party for an old friend of his. Whoever it was, he must be really important, Mara decided. Around them assorted glitterati mingled and table-hopped. Mara had already spotted the teenage star of the summer’s hit movie, the game-winning shortstop of last year’s World Series, and a slew of quasi-famous reality TV stars, from the twenty-something socialites who had shipped themselves off to boot camp to a couple who had met and married on a dating show.

If Megan could see me now, she thought, feeling a little homesick at the memory of her funny older sister, who worked at the local beauty shop and spent her days giving the local clientele her approximation of the latest Hollywood looks. Mara promised herself she would remember every detail so she could tell her sister all about it.

But her mind kept wandering back to the scene in the kitchen. So Ryan had a girlfriend, so what? She kept reminding herself that she had a boyfriend, too.

And so what if Ryan liked redheads? Who didn’t? Mara thought as she unconsciously pulled on her own dark locks. The girl was cute, Mara would give her that. Too cute. She could surf, too. Mara was a flop at athletics. Always the last picked on any team. Cute and could surf. And blessed with a hot little body that filled out her string bikini top. Speak of the devil . . .

“There you are!” the girl said breathlessly, giving Ryan a quick kiss on the lips before she sat down.

Mara tried to curl her lips into a smile, but they wouldn’t obey.

“Hi! I’m Camille!” she said, sticking her hand in Mara’s face.

“Mara.”

Camille leaned forward to whisper something in Ryan’s ear. The two of them started to laugh, and Mara felt extremely uncomfortable.

“Sorry! We’re being so annoying, aren’t we?” Camille asked. “Being in love is so sick!”

“How did you two meet?” Mara asked. She and Ryan had avoided talking about this—her—until now, but Mara was above all that. At least, she would try to be.

“Oh, I used to work for Ryan!”

“How do you mean?”

“She was, uh, one of the au pairs . . . before you guys came,” Ryan explained, a little apologetically.

“Yeah, getting fired was, like, the best thing that happened to me! I got a job at Bamboo and I’m staying at my friend’s place in North Haven. And now I don’t have to feel guilty about dating the boss’s son!”

Ryan laughed nervously.

“So! Mara, you replaced me!” Camille joked. “How are the kids doing?”

“They’re fine. We take them to Georgica every day,” Mara said.

“GEORGE-i-cuh,” Camille said, batting her eyelashes.

“What did I say?” Mara asked.

“George-EEE-cah.”

“Oh.” Mara couldn’t tell the difference.

“Accent’s on the first syllable, not the second,” Camille explained. “Lots of newcomers do it. Where are you from? New Jersey?”

Mara had been in the Hamptons long enough to know when she was being insulted. She didn’t reply.

“Ryan, let’s go dance! Can we dance? Please . . .” she whined, pulling Ryan up to the dance floor, leaving Mara at the table alone.

Mara ordered another drink, determined not to feel abandoned. She couldn’t tell exactly why she was so irritated. A breathless Eliza rushed in and took the empty seat.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Jeremy and I went to Lunch for dinner and we got lobsters and corn bread. I’m SO fat from the carb bloat!” Eliza giggled as she kissed Mara hello.

“Jeremy with the clippers? You went out with Jeremy?” Mara asked. She’d met him the first week. He’d been really nice about helping her navigate the estate. Mara looked at Eliza with a new perspective. Jeremy was a real good guy—a solid guy—she didn’t think someone like Eliza would ever be interested in someone like him.

“Yeah, we spent the whole day together. It was awesome. Oh, look, there’s Lindsay. Hiiiii!” Eliza said, waving.

“So why didn’t you bring him? Didn’t you have a plus one?” Mara had learned that anyone who was anyone had their name “plus one” on the guest list.

“Oh, he would never fit in here,” Eliza said between getting up and saying hello to her friends.

“What do you mean by that?” Mara asked.

“You can’t just bring someone like Jeremy into this world,” Eliza explained. “Oops! Watch it!” she snapped as an overeager birthday well-wisher spilled his whiskey on the rocks onto her dress.

Eliza wiped off the stain, a little annoyed. “People can be so rude,” she griped.

“What world?” Mara asked stubbornly. Her good feeling toward Eliza had vanished. Jeremy was from the same background as Mara—his dad was a carpenter, her dad was in construction. His mother was a teacher, Mara’s mom was a social worker. In fact, back home she was a lot more like Jeremy than Eliza.

“You know, all this,” Eliza said airily. “Oh, there’s Charlie. Hey!” She got up and ran after him. She wanted to make it up to him for missing him at the polo match.

What the hell did Eliza think she was doing, chasing after Charlie when she just had dinner with Jeremy? Mara frowned. She was already in a bad mood from meeting Camille, and now she was totally offended by Eliza’s breezy generalizations and insouciant snobbishness.

Mara had started to really like Eliza, too, even if she was kind of princessy and prone to flake. Eliza had a natural charm about her that Mara had gravitated toward, and she was still grateful for the makeover. Her hair had never looked this good. But now this . . .

Her cell phone blared the familiar chords. Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine . . .

Mara checked the caller ID.

JIM M flashed.

Ugh.

She shut it off. Ryan might have a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean she was ready to make up with her boyfriend. Yet.





ryan gets schooled





AT THE END OF THE EVENING THE REST OF RYAN’S friends trooped to Charlie’s after-party at the nearby American Hotel, and Eliza had gone with them, but Mara had pleaded exhaustion. Camille had left, so Ryan took Mara home.

“You know, we never did get to have that Scrabble game,” Ryan said as he pulled into the driveway.

“Yeah, I guess we both got kind of busy,” Mara said, a little more cutting than she’d meant it.

Ryan gave her a sidelong glance. “Do you want to play?”

“Sure.”

They set up the board in the kitchen, and Mara counted out the tiles. She adored board games. She knew it was really dorky of her, but she couldn’t help it. In seventh grade she had won a Trivial Pursuit tournament, and she was addicted to the Game Show network..

They played a heated battle, but Mara kicked his ass, spelling sacristy, temptation, and gigolo to Ryan’s cat, mop, and yam.

Finally Ryan placed his tiles down and spelled “Xer.”.

“Xer?” Mara asked. “Prefixes aren’t allowed.”

“No, it’s like Generation X-er.” Ryan explained. “A member of Generation X. You know, those people who are a little older than us and sold out the grunge thing for five-dollar cappuccinos.” He smiled at her. “Let’s see. I’m on a triple-word tile. . . .”

“Xer isn’t a word.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“No way. It’s slang.” Mara shook her head.

“Are you saying you challenge?”

“It’s not a word!” Mara laughed.

“You’re killing me!” Ryan said.

“I’m not going to challenge, but it’s not a word. Go ahead, leave it on. There’s no way you’re going to win anyway.”

“Oh, look who’s cocky now.”

“That’s right.” Mara grinned.

“I’m not going to take your pity,” Ryan huffed, collecting his tiles.

“Leave it! Leave it! I was only kidding.” Mara laughed.

They put away the board game and Ryan opened a bottle of wine, which they drank while looking out at the view from the porch. But their silence wasn’t as comfortable as it had been all those times before.

“So, what happened with Camille?” Mara finally asked.

“She wanted to go to some fund-raiser in Wainscott. I didn’t have it in me to hit another party.”

“She’s very . . . um, cute,” Mara offered.

Ryan shrugged. “She’s nice,” he said, almost defensively.

“Have you guys been seeing each other for a while?”

“Not really,” Ryan said. “What about you and Jim? How long have you guys been dating?”

“Since freshman year, officially. Unofficially, probably since third grade,” Mara said as if this conversation wasn’t unbelievably awkward.

“Mmm,” he said. “It’s Camille’s birthday next week. What do you think I should get her? Is jewelry too much? It’s always so hard to figure out what girls want.”

“Mmm,” she said. Mara didn’t want to hear any more of Ryan’s plans for his girlfriend’s birthday. “It’s so gorgeous out here,” she said, changing the subject. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Actually, I do,” Ryan said.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He smiled a little.

“It must be nice—being rich, I mean,” Mara said, a little shocked at her candor.

“My dad’s rich. It’s his money, not mine,” Ryan said. “I don’t confuse the two. But I don’t fool myself about it either.”

Mara wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but by now they’d covered two of the most awkward conversations they could—significant others and money—and Mara was trying not to push her luck. She was also trying really hard not to let the hurt she felt about Camille and her New Jersey comment show through. Combined with Eliza’s take on Jeremy’s “status,” Mara was feeling more out of place than she had in a while.

“What do you want to do with your life?” Mara asked. “Surf the Big Ten in Hawaii?” Oops, that didn’t sound so nice, Mara realized.

“Nah—that’s just a hobby.” He paused. “I have an uncle in Paris. I think about moving there a lot and helping him with his business.”

“That sounds nice. What’s he do?”

“He owns a gallery. My mom’s brother. Not Anna’s. My real mom.”

“Where is she?”

Ryan looked sad for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know. She said she was going to check out some ashram in Tibet. Or maybe she’s in South Africa, getting a face-lift on safari. I never know. The kids miss her. She was a lot of fun when she wasn’t crazy.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“Oh, one night she came home and she’d spent basically their entire bank account on a car and a couple of furs and she drove up Fifth Avenue wearing nothing but her underwear in the snow. The doctors said she was manic-depressive. I could have told anyone that. She would bake chocolate cakes and throw an impromptu birthday party and have us all wearing fun little paper hats and the next moment she’d be sobbing in the corner, threatening to slit her wrists.”

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

Ryan sighed. “It’s good to talk about it sometimes. Dad just pretends nothing ever happened and Anna’s been in the family forever. What’s your family like?”

“We’re so boring.” Mara shrugged, feeling bad for being so testy earlier.

“Boring sounds perfect.”

“My dad’s in construction. He builds, like, developer houses, and he always complains about the shoddy jobs they do. He always tries to do his best, but no one ever wants to pay for it. They put, like, plastic windows in their houses. He’s a good guy. My mom’s a social worker. She works with autistic kids, home-schools them. I’m the youngest. My sister Molly is married and lives in South Boston with her husband. She has two kids. My other sister, Megan, is a hairdresser. She’s a riot. She makes all her own clothes and she looks like Julia Roberts.”

“You guys sound close.”

“We are,” Mara said, her eyes misting a little. She really missed them. “Every summer we go out to Glouster for a week. It’s nice. Nothing like this, though.”

“What made you decide to take this job?”

“I needed the money,” Mara admitted. “And talk about boring, nothing ever happens in Sturbridge.”

“Well, I for one am glad you decided to make it,” Ryan said, leaning down to look in her eyes.

Mara was a little drunk, and for some reason, she didn’t look away. He was gorgeous—but more than that, he was smart—and funny—and just adorable. She lowered her lashes. She felt his breath on her cheek. She raised her lips to meet his.

And pulled away when she heard the patio door bang open.

Poppy stood in the doorway, holding a cigarette and an open bottle of beer. “Ryan! I didn’t see you there! You scared me!”

“Hey, sis,” Ryan said, easing back into his seat.

“How was Charlie’s?” Poppy asked, leaning on the glass door. “Oh, hey, you’re, like, one of the au pairs, aren’t you?” she said, turning to Mara.

Mara nodded.

“That’s Mara. Mara, you’ve met my sister Poppy, haven’t you?” Ryan asked.

“I think I’ll go to bed now,” Mara said, jumping up and saying good night.

“Good night,” Ryan said, trying to catch her eye, but Mara refused to look at him.

Poppy shrugged. There were so many people going in and out of their house, it was hard to keep track. “Ry, you got a light?”

“You shouldn’t smoke,” Ryan told his younger sister on his way inside. “It’s bad for your skin,” he said with an ironic smile.

“Screw you,” Poppy sneered. Her older brother was such a killjoy.





these girls aren’t as predictable as they look





“CODY! YOU GET BACK HERE, YOU HEAR? CODY!” Eliza yelled in despair.

The two-year-old streaked out of the main house completely naked, chortling to himself.

Inside, William was gleefully lobbing soggy Cocoa Puffs on the floor, and Zoë and Madison were bickering over who ate the last blueberry scone.

Eliza made a last-ditch effort to try and tackle the baby. With Jacqui nowhere to be found and Mara nursing a killer hangover (mixing star fruit margaritas and cabernet was a very bad idea, it turned out), Eliza was the only one available for kid duty.

“Need some help?” Jeremy asked, picking up Cody by his elbows and swinging him into Eliza’s arms.

“They never listen to me,” Eliza lamented.

With Jeremy’s help Eliza got all the kids, the picnic basket, the Hokey Pokey Elmo, the Limbo Elmo, the Chicken Dance Elmo, two Bratz babies, coloring books, and sand shovels and buckets into the car.

“I had a really nice time last night,” she said as Jeremy leaned into the window.

“Me too.”

Impulsively she gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Eliza and Jeremy sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I . . .,” Madison began to chant.

“Shush!” Eliza said, putting a hand on the girl’s mouth. But she gave Jeremy a warm smile.

“I’ll see you later,” she said with a lopsided grin.

“Later.” He bowed a little at the waist and walked back toward the garden.

* * *

Eliza hustled the kids to their usual spot on Main Beach near the lifeguard section. They didn’t have proper bathrooms at Two Mile Hollow, and that had ended up being a bit of a problem the other day. The kids were running wild, and Eliza was so bummed to be on solo babysitting duty today.

But just a few paces ahead was Mara. Good old Mara. She was wearing awfully big sunglasses and nursing a Gatorade, but she was there. Lord be praised.

“About time you guys got here,” Mara said, taking Cody out of his stroller and giving him a little tickle.

“What happened to you! You looked like you were at death’s door this morning,” Eliza said.

“I was, I was. But Ryan made me this great hangover remedy—Worcestershire sauce and egg yolk.”

Eliza made a face. “Ew.”

“I know, but it worked. I don’t have a headache anymore, but I’m still so dehydrated,” Mara said, taking another gulp.

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“Ryan drove me.”

“Of course,” Eliza wanted to say, but held her tongue. Mara was so weird about the whole Ryan situation, and Eliza didn’t want to make her feel self-conscious about it.

Mara took the baby by the shore, and Eliza and the others followed.

“C’mon Cody, just a few more steps. It won’t hurt, c’mon, I got you.”

Cody followed Mara tentatively, but screamed and ran away as the waves crashed.

“It’s no use. The kid is never going to learn to swim,” Mara sighed. “Cody! Come on! Look, it’s fun!” she said, splashing the water.

“I saw Jeremy this morning—he was so cute! He helped me put all the kids in the car. And we were looking all scruffy . . .,” Eliza said dreamily. Since when do I say things like “scruffy”? she wondered dreamily. “He was wearing the cutest overalls. Did you see?”

“Enough! I’m already about to vomit,” Mara joked. She was in a lot better mood after seeing Ryan that morning—they’d acted like everything was normal, which made it feel pretty, well, normal. She could even forgive Eliza’s indiscretions last night. No one was perfect, and Mara was sure Eliza didn’t really mean half the things she said. Look at how she glowed whenever she said Jeremy’s name.

“You’re so mean!” Eliza pouted. “I finally find a guy I really like and I can’t even tell you about all the cute things he did!”

“What about Charlie?” Mara asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Eliza shrugged, “Jeremy is just so perfect, and, I don’t know, he’s so good with the kids. . . .”

“Seriously, Liza, I’m going to yak if you don’t get out of here,” Mara said with a smirk.

“Out of here?”

Mara waved her doubts away. “Totally. Go see him. You saved my butt the other day at the polo match. Go ahead! Really, just go!”

“I owe you one!” Eliza squealed, wrapping her arms around Mara and giving her a kiss.

She ran down the dune, hoping to catch Jeremy before he went home for the day.





poor little not-so-rich girl





ELIZA TIPTOED BACK INTO THE ESTATE, DUCKING BEHIND the statuary as she observed Kevin Perry heading off for the yacht club. He was taking out the schooner today and had even invited Jacqui to come with him. Kevin stood in front of his Ferrari Spider, checking his watch. But when it was clear Jacqui wasn’t going to appear anytime soon, he drove off in a snit.

Eliza crept through the back entrance and found Jeremy planting hyacinths near the croquet hoops.

“Guess who?” she asked, covering his eyes with her hands.

“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 would 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.