Beach Lane (7 page)

“What’s in the basket?” Eliza asked.

“Pringles.”

“Yeah, fine.” Eliza shrugged.

Mara looked up. “Hey, where’d William go? William! Stay here! On the blanket! Don’t move!” Mara said in her best sophomore class secretary voice. “Zoë, come on, honey, look at all the colors, aren’t they nice?”

“Cody, it’s okay, baby, it’s only fireworks. I know, they’re loud, but it’s okay,” she soothed.

A few minutes later the kids were crowded around Mara, who put an arm around all of them. “Look at that! The Stars and Stripes! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” Mara asked the little girls, who were sitting raptly looking at the night sky. The boys were passed out on the blanket, William utterly spent from chasing dragonflies and Cody sleeping in his stroller with his thumb in his mouth.

Eliza looked at her cell phone. Uh-oh. Almost eleven. Time to motor.

“Hey, you know what, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting some friends . . .,” Eliza said, brushing grass stains off her knees and starting to walk away.

“Excuse me?” Mara asked.

“Where are you going?” Jacqui asked.

“Party. Wanna come?” Eliza said.

“Sí.”
Jacqui nodded, standing up.

“Yeah, after all, you’ve got things under control here, right, Mary?” Eliza asked. But before Mara could answer, Eliza and Jacqui were running down the hill as fast as their stilettos would take them.

resort is the hottest party in the hamptons. at least until next week.

ELIZA TOOK A DEEP BREATH AS SHE SCANNED THE MOB
scene outside Resort. Five hundred people were elbowing each other to get closer to the velvet-roped entrance, and there was a backup of twenty stretch limos parked on the driveway, waiting to discharge their famous (or merely showy) passengers. Skinny, toothpick-sized women with significant cleavage, lathered in layers of foundation, blush, and hair spray, wearing brightly colored tank tops and formfitting knee-length skirts, picked their way across the gravel in spindly sandals. Their dates, slick older men with equally artificial tans, jangled enormous gold bracelets on their hairy wrists.

Two spotlights directed up in the air lit the entire scene like a movie set. Several overwhelmed publicists tried to control the crowd while burly, three-hundred-pound bouncers glared at the overeager revelers.

Eliza fought her way to the front armed with the magic words:
I’m on the list!

“Eliza Thompson!” she screamed at a beleaguered girl in a headset.

After rifling through her pages the door girl snapped, “You’re not on the list. You’ll have to wait in line.”

“Under Kit Ashleigh?!”

“You should have said that you were on Kit’s list in the first place,” she said sullenly. “What did you say your name was again?”

“ELIZA THOMPSON!”

“Oh, there you are.” The girl nodded at the gorilla in the three-piece suit. He lifted the rope reluctantly. Eliza tugged at Jacqui’s arm, and the two were swept inside the nightclub.

They found themselves in the middle of a chaotic scene, and Jacqui felt the familiar rush she felt whenever she was somewhere new, uncharted, and maybe even slightly dangerous. She licked her lips in anticipation. She was certain Luca was here somewhere. She could feel it.

“Hold up!” Eliza said, grabbing Jacqui’s arm. “I see my friends over there.”

Kit was sitting in the middle of the biggest banquette in the middle of the packed VIP room. His face lit up when he spotted Eliza. “Liza!”

“Kitty cat!” she shrieked, giving him a two-cheek air kiss as if they hadn’t just seen each other a few hours before.

“Who’s your friend?” Kit asked, wagging his eyebrows at Jacqui.

“Jacqui Velasco. She’s, uh, an exchange student . . . living
with my uncle’s family,” Eliza said before Jacqui could open her mouth. She gave Jacqui a mute plea to play along.

“Sí.” Jacqui shrugged. What was that all about?

“Cool,” Kit said. “What are you studying?”

“Design,” Jacqui said.

“English,” Eliza replied.

They looked at each other. Eliza laughed nervously. “English design, right, Jac?”

“Whatever,” Jacqui conceded. She was too busy scanning the room for a sign of her beloved to deal with Eliza right now. But she was polite enough to smile at Kit, who beamed at her.

“About time you got here!” Kit’s girlfriend, Taylor, said to Eliza as she squeezed herself between her man and the hot South American girl.

“You’re back!” Lindsay, another friend, crowed, coming to join them.

“My girls!” Eliza said, triumphant.

So many people were coming up to hug and kiss her she felt like homecoming queen. Except that she’d never be caught dead at something as lame as a high school dance. This was homecoming Eliza style: frozen margaritas, flowing bottles of Cliquot, hot guys, good shoes, even better cars parked outside.

“Sweetie, you look fantastic!” Taylor said in an admiring and slightly jealous tone.

“You must be starving yourself!” said Lindsay, the master of the left-handed compliment.

“Is Charlie here?” Eliza asked, a little too eagerly.

“Not yet. Why?” Lindsay asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Nothing. I just thought it would be nice to see him, for old times’ sake.” Eliza shrugged.

Lindsay and Taylor exchanged a knowing look.

“Well, look who’s here,” purred a voice from behind the champagne bucket. A sloe-eyed blonde with a vixenish pout appraised them coolly. She was wearing a pink beret, aviator sunglasses, and a tight baby T-shirt that showed off a completely flat midriff.

“Sugar!” Eliza said, bending down to say hello.

“Careful—I just had it blow-dried,” Sugar Perry said, turning away before Eliza could get any closer.

“How are
you?
” Eliza asked, sliding into the seat next to her.

Sugar was the most popular girl at Eliza’s old prep school. At least, she was now that Eliza had left.

“I’m all right,” Sugar drawled, taking a cigarette from Eliza’s pack and tapping it on her hand. “I’m so over this scene.”

“I know, it’s
so
boring. The same every year.” Eliza knew this was the right thing to say in the Hamptons, even though the truth was, she was thrilled to be back.

“You’re so lucky your parents sent you to boarding school.” Sugar sighed. “If only I could get away from mine.”

“It’s never going to happen,” added a similarly hoarse voice. Eliza looked up to see Sugar’s identical twin, Poppy, looming over them.

“Eliza, you’re back,” Poppy said flatly. She had the same long platinum Donatella-Versace-like locks as her sister, the same seductive
languor, but where Sugar had the makings of a porn star in a debutante body, Poppy, who was taller and two minutes younger, projected a more innocent air. Sugar was sexy; Poppy was just cute.

Finding the banquette fully crowded, Poppy parked herself on Eliza’s lap without a second thought. Eliza didn’t have the nerve to complain. She was too excited not to have to answer any difficult questions. Taylor and Lindsay receded to the background, pretending not to be bothered that Eliza had replaced them for the twins without a second thought.

Meanwhile, after downing two quick flutes of champagne and making chitchat with some of Eliza’s friends, Jacqui scanned the room again. These people were nice enough, and yes, she could tell they were rich, but after meeting Luca, Jacqui had started caring less about those things. Before him she probably would have made her way straight over to the handsome Almost Forty who was staring at her from across the room—Jacqui knew the benefits of seeing an older man (hello, expense account)—but Luca had changed everything. For once she had found a guy who really liked her for who she was, not what she looked like.

Jacqui looked around, trying to look through the older man still staring her down.
I can see your wedding ring,
she thought. And then a flash of familiar stripes made her sit up a little straighter. Was it? No way . . . there was no way. But it was worth a shot. She stood up, pulling her underwear-completely-optional-low-rider jeans up with her, and she walked off to follow the lanky guy wearing a very familiar-looking rugby shirt.

back at the beach, mara got blown off so eliza could blow out her hair

MARA COULDN’T BELIEVE THEY PULLED THIS ON THE
first night. She packed up the picnic basket, trying to keep an eye on the one-two-three-four (thank God they were all there!) kids. “All right, everybody, follow me.”

“Don’t want to go! Want to stay play ou’side!” Zoë whined.

“Can we go over there? There’s ice cream,” Madison said, pulling at Mara’s hand.

“Why you want ice cream for? Porky Pig Porky Pig!” William jeered. He started snorting and making noises with his armpit.

“William!”

“William!”

“WHAT???”

“STOP MAKING THAT . . .” Mara clapped. “Arrrghh!”

William, who was clearly enjoying torturing his sister, cackled. Madison was nearly in tears.

“Hey, buddy, that’s not nice.”

Mara looked up to see Ryan Perry standing next to her,
holding a death’s-head skateboard in one hand. He wore a faded Groton sweatshirt over his frayed shorts. He smiled at Mara, then put a hand on William’s head and turned the kid around. “Apologize to Maddy.”

“Erm sorry.” William sniffled.

Madison stuck a chocolate-covered tongue out at her brother.

“I saw Eliza and Jacqui back at the house. I figured you might need a hand,” he explained.

“Oh—that’s so nice. Really, though, it’s all good,” she said, just as William wrestled Madison to the ground and the two of them began rolling down the hill toward the ocean.

“No—no—no—come back!” Mara cried.

“Don’t worry, they won’t get far,” Ryan promised as he picked up the picnic basket. “Hey, cool, you brought the Scrabble,” he said when he spied the board game among the Tupperware.

“I thought it might be fun, you know, to teach Zoë about letters.” Mara shrugged. “I found it in the closet in our room.”

“You any good?”

“I’m not bad.” Mara smiled.

“Bet I can beat you.”

“Oh, I don’t know—I do a mean triple-triple. I know all the words that begin with
x.
”

“All of them?” Ryan cocked an eyebrow.

“Try me.”

“I’ll take you up on that challenge.”

“Deal.” Mara smiled even more broadly.

Ryan tucked the box under his arm along with his skateboard and began to push Cody’s stroller. He lifted Zoë on his shoulders.

“Giddyap, Ryan!” Zoë said.

“Hang on, Zo.”

The four of them walked down the hill toward the mini–death match.

“WILLIAM ADDISON PERRY! MADISON ALEXANDRA PERRY!” Ryan roared.

William and Madison immediately froze.

“That’s enough of that!” Ryan scolded.

“You’re not really mad, are you, Ryan?” Madison asked, releasing her hold on William and getting up to take his free hand.

“Me! Me! Me!” William whined, trying to find something of Ryan’s to hold on to. With no available hand in sight, he grabbed the edge of his big brother’s T-shirt.

“Easy, big guy,” Ryan said.

They headed back to the Range Rover. Ryan stashed his skateboard in the back and they drove the half mile back to the house.

“Sorry they’re so out of control. It’s really not their fault. No one’s ever taught them any boundaries.”

“The kids?” Mara asked. “Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of worse.”

Mara told Ryan about the neighborhood nightmare—eight-year-old Tommy Baker, who was famous for locking himself in the bathroom for hours, only to emerge as his parents were pulling back into the driveway. At which time he would pee on the floor, leaving a disgusting puddle for her to mop up.

“It happened every time I babysat him and his parents never even tipped!”

“Bastards,” Ryan said.

“Look,” Mara whispered, turning to look at the backseat, where the children were all sleeping. “Like angels. You’d never think—” But she cut herself off—they
were
still his siblings.

Ryan glanced at them from the rearview mirror. “Angels with dirty faces,” he surmised, giving Mara a warm smile.

They pulled up to the driveway. Mara carried Cody to his crib, and Ryan walked the rest of the sleepy trio back to their rooms.

“I’ve got to make a couple of calls, then I’ll be in the kitchen,” he said. “Think you’re up for a game later, Madame X?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mara agreed.

“Don’t stand me up, now,” he teased.

“I won’t,” she promised, flushing a little.

She tucked the kids in, and after she was satisfied the four were safely in dreamland, she tiptoed down the stairs toward the kitchen.

“Hey, they’re totally out—do you want to bust out the Scrabble? Ryan? Ryan?” she called, a little short of a stage whisper. But he was nowhere to be found. She wandered in and out of the darkened rooms for a while, thinking he might magically pop out of one.

But he wasn’t anywhere. Mara felt her good mood deflate. A wave of homesickness hit her in the middle of the perfectly
spotless kitchen when she saw a Post-it on a French cabinet that she could only assume was hiding the fridge:

M: Sorry, duty called. Scrabble another time?—R

Of course he had better things to do. Someone to do, more likely, Mara thought with a tiny twinge of jealousy. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

“Jimmy? You still up? It’s me, Mara.”

back at resort, jacqui certainly has an eye for fabrics

JACQUI WALKED FAST THROUGH THE CROWD, NOT LETTING
those rugby stripes out of her sight. Her heart was beating quickly; she was short of breath. There was no way, was there? This was fate. Kismet. This was meant to be. It was what she had been dreaming about since the day she woke up alone in her room in São Paolo. . . . Those broad shoulders, the fine, baby soft hairs on the neck . . . She had kissed that neck many times. . . .

With trembling fingers she put her hand on his back. “Luca?”

Jacqui couldn’t believe her eyes. It was him! Luca, with his pale, freckled skin, glossy honey-colored hair, and beautiful green eyes behind those nerdy-but-hip eyeglasses.