Beach Lane

A blistering day at the beach





MARA SHOOK ELIZA’S SHOULDER. IT WAS ALMOST NOON and she was annoyed. Jacqui was nowhere to be found and Eliza had slept in all morning. Only Mara had shown up to feed the kids their breakfast in the main house (a grapefruit for Madison, gluten-free pancakes for Zoë and William, mashed rice cereal for Cody).

“What time is it?” Eliza asked sleepily.

Mara told her. “Hurry up. Anna wants us to take the kids to the beach. They’re already in the car.”

Eliza grumbled as she hoisted herself up against her pillows. She blinked at the tiny attic room. Where on earth was she? Then she remembered. The Hamptons. Working for the Perrys. As an au pair. God, it was depressing.

“Where’s Jacqui?”

Mara shrugged. “I don’t think she came home last night,” she said with a hint of disapproval in her voice.

Eliza yawned. “Good for her.” She padded to the bathroom to get ready, just as Jacqui walked into the room.

“Hola chicas!” Jacqui greeted, a blissful expression on her face. She was glowing and fresh-faced, although Mara noticed she was still wearing last night’s clothes.

Mara frowned. “Anna’s on a rampage. I suggest you guys meet me and the kids in the main house in five minutes if you all don’t want to get in trouble.” Mara was irritable from their little stunt the night before, and determined not to let them get away with it again. She stormed off, and Eliza and Jacqui exchanged dismayed expressions.

“What crawled up her butt and died?” Eliza asked. Jeez. She hadn’t bargained on having to spend her summer with some hick from the sticks, who was so obviously a little tattle-tale, as well.

Jacqui shrugged. That morning, she and Luca had more than made up for their months apart, and she was still in a romantic daze. She was also sporting a few red hickeys on her neck from their passionate reunion. “She needs um amante. A lover,” Jacqui decided. That was Jacqui’s solution to everything. Jacqui had had one boyfriend or another ever since she turned thirteen and it was the only way she felt totally comfortable.

“Don’t we all,” Eliza sighed.

* * *

They changed into their shorts and swimsuits and met Mara and the kids by the driveway. William was jumping up and down in the gravel driveway, the baby was bawling in his car seat, and the little girls sat in the very back of the SUV with bored faces.

“William! Please get in the car!” Mara pleaded.

“C’mon,” Eliza said, picking up William and shoving him in the car. “You better behave or I’m enrolling you in ballet with your sisters.” That sobered him up. Mara wished she’d thought of that.

Eliza walked to the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive, I know how to get there.”

Mara nodded, thankful for the help. They piled in and Eliza drove to Georgica Beach. They dropped Jacqui off to go grab lunch at the snackbar and Eliza gave her instructions on where to meet them. It was a struggle keeping all of the kids together, but Eliza finally chose a spot on the sand that was far from where her old crowd hung out. She shook out the towels and reclined on a beach chair. She still had a pounding headache from the night before, and the kids’ whining wasn’t helping any, but boy did it feel good to be back at Georgica.

Mara affixed a floppy sun hat on Cody’s head and began to slather sunscreen on the girls. When Zoë and Madison were good and covered, she tried her luck with William. “Sit still! Wait! I still have to do your back!” Mara pleaded, but William kept jumping and wriggling away.

“I give up!” Mara sighed. She looked around. Eliza was asleep on her towel. They’d dropped Jacqui off almost an hour ago, but she was still missing. What a surprise.

* * *

“What happened to him?” Eliza asked, horrified, hours later when she woke up and noticed William’s raw, red face.

“What do you mean?” Mara said. She had been so busy playing with the girls and Cody that she hardly noticed how red William had gotten. Mara had been so grateful when he’d finally gotten out of the waves and splayed out on a towel that it didn’t occur to her that laying down might be a tad uncharacteristic for the boy.

“I don’t feel too good,” William said. His entire body was an angry crimson, and his eyes were watering.

“Haven’t you heard of sunblock?” Eliza asked Mara accusingly.

“I tried to put it on him,” Mara said weakly. “But he wouldn’t sit still!” She put a hand on his forehead. “He’s burning up!”

“Sunstroke. I’ve seen it happen to tourists. It’s bad. We should get him to the doctor,” Jacqui said, surveying the damage with a critical eye.

The girls panicked. William began to hyperventilate. Mara’s heart began beating hard against her chest. She scooped William up in her arms and ran to the car. Eliza and Jacqui packed up the remaining kids and the bags in helter-skelter fashion and scrambled after them.

* * *

At the hospital, they deposited an unconscious and feverish William in the arms of a gentle nurse and a kindly doctor, and handed the other three kids off to Laurie, who’d met them there. “I won’t tell Anna. For now. But call if you need me,” she said sternly before driving off.

“It’s my fault,” Mara said quietly. She felt terrible for neglecting him. It didn’t even occur to her that he had been Eliza and Jacqui’s responsibility as well.

“Well, he really wouldn’t stay still,” Eliza conceded. That was as close to an admonition of guilt as Eliza would get. Still, she was really worried about the kid—and not just because they might get fired.

Jacqui murmured a short prayer. The worst of it was that she knew from experience that sunstroke was easily prevented. She felt a twinge of guilt for sneaking out to meet up with Luca for lunch.

They waited in the little outdoor room, debating whether or not to call Anna. Mara said yes. Eliza said no. And in the end, it was Jacqui’s deciding vote for what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her that finalized their decision not to call.

* * *

When the doctor emerged, the news was good. Minor sun stroke. Nothing ice packs, fluids and bed rest wouldn’t cure. They almost cheered when William ran out, just as spastic as ever.

Eliza tousled his hair. “You gave us a quite scare!”

“Next time will you sit still?” Mara asked.

William only grinned. Jacqui hugged him.

“What’s that on your neck?” He asked her.

Jacqui blushed.

* * *

They returned home hoping not to run into Anna. No such luck. She had just returned from the salon and pulled up to the house at the same time.

“Anyone care to explain?” She demanded when she saw William.

“Um, it was the sunscreen. I don’t think it was strong enough,” Eliza said smoothly.

“But he’s fine,” piped in Jacqui. “Right, Will?” William just smiled and pointed at her hickey. He was definitely fine.

“Drugstore brands are really ineffective,” Eliza said, playing up to Anna’s snobbishness. “There’s a really good one from Zurich that is divine.”

“Order some for tomorrow,” Anna allowed, and turned away without even saying hello to any of the children.

The three breathed a sigh of relief. And then William ran off, as though nothing had happened at all.





the girls have finally learned how to locate the fridge under all that french cabinetry





TWO WEEKS AFTER THE TWINS DITCHED HER BEFORE the PlayStation2 party, Eliza stood by the washbasin in the laundry room, trying to get the mud off Sugar’s Escada tennis whites. This was so not what she had prepared for when she told Kevin Perry she would “help out with the kids” this summer.

Poppy and Sugar’s snub had hit Eliza hard, but she still managed to claw her way back into the scene through her old friends Taylor and Lindsay, who had instant access to every guest list event in town, from store openings to movie premieres. The three of them hit a different nightclub every night, all while Eliza strategically avoided the Perry twins. It was harder to pretend they didn’t exist back at the house, where the blond brats kept her busy with countless mundane tasks. Eliza didn’t mind so much since it appeared Sugar and Poppy had failed to mention her diminished status to anyone in the clique. Were they being nice or just indifferent? Eliza couldn’t hazard a guess, but she was thankful for the reprieve in public, at least.

“There,” she said, holding the soiled cloth up to the light. “That should be good enough.”

She had ruined her manicure in the process, but at least she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow morning to hear Sugar’s hoarse voice asking her ever so sweetly why her tennis skirt wasn’t hanging in her closet. She walked out to the kitchen, where Mara was sitting in front of a bowl, her forehead knit in concentration as she carefully balanced a small green object on her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Eliza asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m peeling Madison’s grapes,” Mara explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Hell no.” Eliza still couldn’t believe some of the things they had to do for these kids.

Mara gingerly took an edge of the grape and peeled off its skin. The bowl in front of her held about two dozen similarly skinless specimens.

“Where’s Jacqui?” Eliza asked.

“Feeding Cody dinner. It’s her turn.” And for once Jacqui was actually there to do it.

Eliza made a face. Talk about a thankless undertaking. The girls had learned not to stand in the line of fire when Cody hurled after every meal. Two words: projectile vomit.

“MERDA!” Jacqui stormed into the kitchen from the dining room. A river of green-colored puke ran down the length of her cotton dress. “Why does everything he eats have to be hand chopped?” she ranted. “Has this woman never heard of baby food? This makes his stomach virada!”

They grunted in sympathy.

Madison walked in and helped herself to a grape. “Bleh,” she said, spitting out a chewed-up mess.

“What’s wrong now?” Mara sighed.

“They’re not cold enough. And that one still has its skin on a little bit.”

Mara wanted to throw her hands up in despair. Madison’s grapes were never cold enough or peeled properly or else could not be eaten because they were deemed “funny looking.” Mara knew the kid was just rebelling against the strict diet her stepmother had put her on, but it was seriously making her own life difficult.

“There’s nothing wrong with them,” Eliza said, taking one and popping it into her mouth. “Yum. I wish I had somebody to peel my grapes. You’re a lucky girl.”

Madison looked at Eliza doubtfully but began to eat the grapes without complaint. A miracle.

The door swung open again and this time Anna walked into the kitchen. The three au pairs froze, wondering what was wrong now.

“Has anyone seen the mail?” She asked.

They shook her heads. Laurie had told them that Anna was desperately waiting for an invitation to a dinner party at Calvin Klein’s house. Unfortunately, it had yet to arrive.

“Anna? Could we ask you something?” Mara assayed.

“Yes?”

“The kids keep talking about these other girls—who, um, used to take care of them? Do you know what they’re talking about?”

“Some girls named Camille, and Tara, or something,” Eliza added.

Anna scowled. “Yes. They used to work here. But we don’t talk about them,” she said sternly. “Do you understand?”

They nodded. Obviously, the former au pairs were a sore subject. But the girls’ curiosity was doubly piqued. What had they done that was so bad? If only someone would tell them. It obviously hadn’t been letting one of the kids fry like a potato chip. They’d done that and they were still here. But they had to find out, because as all three of them agreed, they couldn’t afford to make the same mistake.

After cleaning up the kitchen and putting the kids to bed, the au pairs staggered back to their dingy room.

“God! What a week!” Eliza said, flopping into the only armchair. Between the cooking and the cleaning and the scrambling out of a VIP room whenever she spotted any sign of the twins’ blond heads, Eliza was exhausted.

“Seriously,” Mara agreed, thinking about the week spent catering to the whims of four adorable but very spoiled children.

Jacqui had disappeared into the bathroom to change. She was meeting Luca for dinner at The Laundry, a romantic French restaurant.

Eliza looked at the clock. It was nine. Too early to hit the clubs yet. “You know what? We deserve a little break.”

“What have you got in mind?” Mara asked.

Eliza smiled mischievously. “Look what I found.” She grinned, holding up an antique key that just happened to unlock the Perrys’ liquor cabinet. It was about time they had a little fun.





the best way to find out a secret? a bottle of grey goose and a game of truth





AN EMPTY VODKA BOTTLE ROLLED DOWN THE THREADBARE carpet.

“Here’s another one.” Eliza hiccupped, grabbing another bottle from her bag.

“No thanks—I’m done,” Mara said.

“No way, if I’m having another, everyone else is, too.”

Jacqui held up her glass. She wasn’t one to argue with that.

Stealing a couple of bottles from the Perry stash seemed totally appropriate, given how they had been slaving away. It was sort of like a bonus, Eliza had told herself.

“Let’s play truth,” Eliza decided, and spun the bottle around.

It stopped in front of Jacqui.

“What do you want to ask me?” Jacqui asked, thinking the game was sort of fun for being a little wicked. Plus Luca had called earlier to say could they meet at eleven for drinks at Turtle Crossing instead, so she had lots of time to kill with the roommates.

“Have you ever been in love?” Eliza asked, thinking she would start it off easy.

Jacqui blew out a puff of smoke and considered the question. “Of course.”

“Are you in love now?” Mara asked.

“Maybe,” Jacqui hedged.

“The game is called TRUTH!” Eliza said.

“Okay, okay. Yes. I’m in love.” Jacqui giggled. She told them about Luca, the guy she had come all across the globe to be with, and how they had gotten reacquainted very, very quickly. It was the same as it ever was. Or was it? She didn’t tell them, but Luca never took her out on proper dates. Instead they spent an awful lot of time in his bedroom or in dingy, out-of-the-way crab shacks in the North (known by most as the “Wrong”) Fork.

“I’m just not digging the scene this year, Jac,” Luke had explained one evening when they were getting ready to drive all the way to some ramshackle bar on Shelter Island for what he called “the best hamburgers in the Hamptons.” Jacqui didn’t think the burgers at the Dory were anything to write home about, but she had found her man and as long as they were together, she was happy.

Jacqui spun the vodka bottle, which pointed toward Mara.

“Shoot,” Mara said. “Ask me whatever you want.”

“How many guys have you slept with?” Eliza asked with a grin. She wanted to shake Mara up a little. The girl was so uptight sometimes.

To Eliza’s surprise, Mara merely rolled her eyes. “One.”

She told them about Jim, her boyfriend back home, not that it had escaped her roommates’ notice that all Mara seemed to do after work was log on to her laptop to send him e-mails or else max out her mobile minutes to chat to him every night. As if it was doing her any good. Even Jacqui could see that every time Mara set her eyes on Ryan Perry, she got all flustered.

“So how was he?” Eliza giggled.

“I don’t believe you guys get follow-up questions!” Mara huffed.

“Not that good, huh?” Eliza teased. She was in a good mood after three vodka tonics.

“How many guys have you slept with?” Mara demanded.

Eliza blushed. “It’s not my turn!”

“C’mon, how many?” Jacqui asked, curious.

“I’m not telling.”

“TRUTH! TRUTH! TRUTH!” Mara demanded.

“All right—fine. None,” Eliza said challengingly.

“Wow.” Jacqui and Mara raised their eyebrows. Now things were getting interesting.

“I almost did once. With my boyfriend Charlie.” Eliza’s face softened. “It was our six-month anniversary, and he’d just given me these earrings,” she said, touching her ear. “I had bought this really cute little outfit from La Perla.”

“What happened?”

“He’d rented a room at the Carlyle, but when we got up there, he fell asleep from all the wine at dinner,” Eliza said. “Then we broke up the next week, so we never got a chance.”

“What happened?” Mara asked.

“Things got—uh, complicated,” Eliza said. “I had to go away.”

“Were you in love with him?” Mara asked.

“Yeah—I think so,” Eliza said. She certainly loved being Charlie Borshok’s girlfriend, if not Charlie himself. There were so many perks that went with the title. The gifts (always hand-delivered by special messenger). The vacations (weekends in Locust Valley, skiing in Telluride, surprise jaunts to St. Bart’s). The flat-out envy of everyone in the sophomore class.

“Do you guys keep in touch?” Mara asked.

“Not really. But he’s in the Hamptons this summer,” Eliza said. “I’m sure I’ll bump into him one of these days.”

“Maybe you guys will get back together,” Mara suggested. She couldn’t help it; she was a romantic at heart.

“We’ll see,” Eliza said. “I heard he’s already dating someone else.” She looked at her cell phone for the time. “I’ve got to get ready!”

“Where are you going?”

“There’s some benefit for baby teeth testing at Trupin Castle. It’s this huge mansion this guy built in Southampton; he broke, like, all the zoning laws to do it. I heard he paid six million in fees. Anyway, it’s never been open to the public and the new owner just got it renovated.”

“How do you keep getting into all these things? Don’t they card?” Mara asked.

Eliza took a puff from her cigarette and placed it on a makeshift ashtray (an upside-down Bumble and Bumble styling wax top). “I’ve got a fake ID. And it’s a private event. As long as you’re on the list, it doesn’t matter. It’s two hundred bucks a head, but Kit gave me three tickets. You guys wanna come?” The tonics and secret sharing were making Eliza feel surprisingly benevolent. Maybe these other girls weren’t so bad after all, she thought.

“No, I’m meeting Luca,” Jacqui said.

“I told Jim I’d call.”

“Suit yourselves,” Eliza said, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder top. She gave her blond mane a shake and took one last look at her reflection in the mirror. “Later,” she said, disappearing in a cloud of smoke and perfume.

It was eleven o’clock. By Hamptons standards, it was early. The evening had just begun.





mara’s got something special about her. it’s called being nice.





PROMPTLY AT MIDNIGHT THE ALARM CLOCK IN THE AU pairs’ room emitted an angry screech. Mara banged the snooze button down in confusion. She blinked. She had only been asleep for an hour. What was the deal?

Then she remembered.

Zoë.

She hauled herself out of bed and put on her robe and fuzzy slippers. She trudged all the way back to the main house and disabled the burglar alarm only after a few attempts. The house was eerily quiet. Mara walked up the stairs to the second landing to the room in the corner. She opened the door and walked quietly toward the small form huddled on the bed.

“Zoë, get up,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Time to go to the bathroom.” Mara yawned.

One morning Mara had discovered Zoë drenched up to her neck in her own pee. No one in the household seemed to know or care—least of all her stepmother—that the six-year-old was still wetting the bed. The kid was ruining five-hundred-count Frette sheets by the day. She had also developed an itchy rash on her legs from her nightly emissions. Mara couldn’t believe that the girl hadn’t been potty trained. So after picking up a well-thumbed copy of Dr. Spock from Bookhampton, every night at midnight Mara stole into the kid’s room and walked her to the bathroom. Zoë still couldn’t believe it when she woke up in the morning to dry sheets. Mara was a miracle worker.

“I’m done, Mara,” Zoë called from the bathroom. She flushed the toilet and walked back to her bed.

“Maybe next time you won’t need me to wake you up,” Mara said hopefully.

Zoë nodded. Whatever Mara said, Zoë was starting to believe.

Mara closed the door and walked out to the landing just in time to see Ryan Perry walk out of his room, fully dressed to go out. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he smelled like Ivory soap and cologne. He was wearing a linen sweater and dark jeans. Mara thought he could not look any cuter.

“Hey,” he said. They hadn’t seen much of each other since the first night. He had apologized about missing the Scrabble game, citing a friend in a broken-down Jeep as his excuse.

“Hi,” Mara said, wishing she was wearing something other than a plaid robe, bunny slippers, and a ragged nightshirt that read I ONLY SLEEP WITH THE BEST! in big pink bubble letters.

“Cute shirt.” He grinned. “Is it true?”

“My sister gave it to me for my birthday when I was eleven,” Mara said, embarrassed.

“Kids being a pain?” Ryan asked.

“No, I thought Zoë buzzed the intercom. But she’s asleep. What are you up to?” Mara didn’t want to blow up Zoë’s spot, even if she was only six.

“My friends are dragging me out,” he said, cracking his neck. “Some party to save babies; I don’t remember.”

“At Trupin Castle?”

“Yeah.” His face lit up. “You going?”

She laughed, looking down at her slippers. “Does it look like I am?”

His smile faded a little. “Do you want to come? I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine, really.”

“Next time, then.”

“Sure.”

* * *

Mara walked back to the au pairs’ cottage, wondering if she should have taken Ryan up on his offer, and found Jacqui sitting on the front steps, looking dejected. “What happened? Where’s Luca?”

“He canceled,” Jacqui said. “I sat out there in front waiting for him for an hour, and he just called and said he was too tired.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I feel like going out, though. É uma noite bonita. Don’t you?”

“I’m in pajamas,” Mara pointed out.

“You could change.”

“I dunno. . . .”

“C’mon. I called Eliza and she said she’d put us on the list if we changed our minds.”

Mara thought about it. In two weeks she hadn’t even set foot outside the Perry estate after dark. And Ryan was going to be there, too. Maybe it was time to see this “other side of the Hamptons” that Eliza was always talking about.

Jacqui looked at her hopefully.

“Oh, sure, what the hell, we’ll go.”

And with that, Mara and Jacqui bounded back to the cottage to change.





there’s never a dress code if you’re cute enough





NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE SHE ARRIVED, MARA wondered why everything was so crowded in the Hamptons. For a so-called weekend retreat, it was certainly packed with enough people.

She and Jacqui had taken a cab, and they barely had enough between them to pay the meter. They were aghast at the price, but they were still leery of taking full advantage of the “take any car that isn’t being used in the lot” rule, ad plus, the Grey Goose had made them both a little tipsy. When they arrived at the castle gates, Mara was sure they were never getting inside. The people at the door of Trupin Castle couldn’t understand Jacqui’s accent, and when they did, they couldn’t find Eliza’s name on the list. Then even after they found it, one of the guards shook his head at Mara’s shoes. “There’s a dress code here, ladies,” he scolded. Jacqui had told her not to wear her Reeboks, but then when she saw Mara’s totally-in-need-of-a-pedicure toes, she acquiesced. Closed toes were a must. Luckily the other bouncer took a shine to Jacqui and decided to let them in anyway.

“You made it!” Eliza said when she spotted them by the bar. “What do you want? I know the bartender,” she added, signaling. They told her, and two drinks were promptly passed over. “Check out the live shark tank,” she said, pointing to the middle of the room, where six-foot-long hammerheads were on display.

Mara tried not to gape. Was there no end to all this excess?

“I got Mara out. Can you believe it?” Jacqui laughed.

“Where’s Luca?”

Jacqui shrugged. “He was busy.”

“Jacqui, you’ve met Lindsay and Taylor,” Eliza said, motioning to her two friends, who were giving the newcomers not-so-subtle once-overs.

“Yeah—the exchange student,” Lindsay said, giving Jacqui a fake smile. Lindsay didn’t like girls that looked like Jacqui. They were way too much competition at a game she could never win.

Exchange student? Mara wondered. Huh?

“And this is Mara, another new friend of mine,” Eliza said.

“What is that?” Taylor asked, pointing to the Amstel Light in Mara’s hands.

“Beer?” Mara replied.

Taylor made a face. “Ugh, how can you drink that?” she asked. “So foul.” Mara sipped her drink and cautiously looked around. Everyone else was holding brightly colored cocktails in martini glasses. Couldn’t she do anything right? And where was Ryan? She couldn’t see him anywhere, but there were so many people, it wasn’t that surprising.

“Taylor—drinks?” Lindsay asked, even if her glass was only half empty. The two took that cue to make their exit. They’d had enough of Eliza’s “new friends.”

“Don’t look now, but Charlie’s walking over,” Taylor warned before she stalked off, motioning to a short guy in a blue blazer who was making a beeline their way.

Eliza turned around to show her best side and slouched down a little—in her heels she was taller than he was, and she knew he never liked that.

Charlie Borshok was a classic trust fund kid. Rumor had it his family had already spent half a million dollars on restructuring his face. He’d received a nose job, ear tuck, chin lift, cheek implants, forehead lift, and who knows what else to approximate some sort of attractiveness. There had been a documentary made about the lives of super-rich kids that had caused a big mess a little while back. Rumor had it that he was supposed to be one of the stars. “Prenup! Prenup! Prenup! It’s been drilled into my head since I was three!” he’d told the cameras. “And if she won’t sign, she’s a disgusting gold digger anyway.” But the Borshok family had filed enough court injunctions that the director finally gave up on Charlie, and the material was left on the cutting room floor. Of course, everyone heard about it anyway. Eliza knew half a dozen kids who had been interviewed for the film who’s parents had tried to do the same thing.

But none of that mattered to Eliza. Charlie was still the great guy who gave her a pair of two-carat Harry Winston diamond earrings on their six-month anniversary. Now that was love.

“Hey, handsome,” she said, still smiling down at him despite the slouching.

“Hi, Eliza,” Charlie said, a little coldly. He was still pissed that she had dumped him last semester. What was up with that? Hadn’t he given her a pair of two-carat Harry Winston diamond earrings on their six-month anniversary? Wasn’t that love?

“Long time no see,” Eliza said with as much warmth as she could muster. She and Charlie were good together, she was sure of that.

He shrugged. “Heard you were shipped out to Farmington.”

Eliza tried not to look uneasy. She’d been very careful not to mention exactly which boarding school she was supposed to be attending, lest someone in her circle knew someone who prepped at the same school. But somehow word had gone out that she was supposed to be at Miss Porter’s, an elite finishing school for girls in Connecticut.

“Tell me about it. Charlie, I want you to meet my friends, Mara and Jacqui. Guys, this is Charlie,” Eliza said triumphantly.

“Nice to meet you. How do you know Eliza?” Charlie inquired, to be polite.

“Oh, we wor—” Mara began.

“She’s my roommate!” Eliza interjected, thinking quickly.

“How do you like it?” Charlie asked.

“It’s not too bad. The kids can be a pain, and our room is really small, but otherwise it’s all right,” Mara said. “Our boss is kind of demanding, though.”

“That’s what we call our house mistress.” Eliza laughed shrilly. She gave Mara frantic warning eyes. “Boarding school is très lame.”

Boarding school? “Uh . . . right,” Mara said hesitantly. “Yeah. Boarding school. The uniforms suck.” What was going on here? “But, um. Eliza’s the most popular girl there,” she was inspired to add.

“Well, that’s not a surprise,” Charlie said, looking keenly at his ex-girlfriend. Charlie looked at women the way he measured Thoroughbreds—the flanks, the teeth, the shoes, and Eliza passed with flying marks on all counts. He was still smarting from their breakup. The Charlie Borshoks of the world didn’t take too kindly to being dumped out of the blue. But Eliza Thompson was easily still the prettiest girl in East Hampton.

“We should get together sometime,” he said to Eliza, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Eliza’s eyes misted at his touch. Was she being forgiven? Was Charlie going to let her back into his life? Was everything going to be perfect again? Would he rescue her from that roach-infested attic and book them a suite at the Bentley Hotel?

“Looks like you guys are gonna get back together after all,” Mara said after Charlie had left.

“God, I hope so. Charlie’s parents have the biggest yacht!” Eliza said, oblivious to how shallow she sounded.

“But what was THAT all about—us being friends from school?” Mara asked. “And why is Jacqui an exchange student?”

“It’s like this . . .,” Eliza said, biting her lip. Should she tell them? Could she trust them? They had covered for her so far. Who knew Mara could lie like that? They had made her look good in front of Charlie. Maybe she owed them the truth, even without an empty vodka bottle pointing in her direction.

Eliza pulled them to the quietest corner she could find—behind the column, near where several glassy-eyed club kids passed a suspiciously fragrant rolled-up cigarette. She told them the whole story—Buffalo, bankruptcy, and the boarding school fiction.

“I just don’t want my friends to know, especially Charlie, that I’m working here this summer . . . you know? As an au pair . . .”

Mara and Jacqui looked at each other. What was the big deal?

“I know it’s stupid, but I just want to have fun this summer. Is that okay?” she pleaded.

Jacqui yawned. Eliza’s confession meant nothing to her. Let the girl tell everyone she was the Queen of England, what did it matter to her? Mara found it harder to understand. There was no shame in living in Buffalo. Hey, she was from Sturbridge. Eliza obviously had some issues, but Mara knew it wasn’t her place to tell her that.

“So you guys won’t tell anyone?” Eliza asked.

They nodded. Her secret was safe with them.