Skinny Dipping (The Au Pairs 2)

Jacqui muffled a laugh. Thirty-two seemed kind of ancient to her.

"Sometimes I can't believe I'm thirty-two and the mother of seven children. Seven!" Anna shook her head. "I'm like Maria von Trapp or something."

Jacqui coughed. Anna was actually only the mother of one kid, Cody, and was a stepmom to the rest of the brood. Jacqui couldn't hear Philippe's reply. Then Anna said something about her life passing her by, and Jacqui realized the poor thing was lonely. It must suck not to have any real friends to talk to and to have to resort to the company of an employee. Still, why did it have to be Philippe?

After what seemed like an eternity, Jacqui heard Anna stand up, and footsteps clacking away from the cottage. She opened the door tentatively. Now that Anna had gone, maybe she and Philippe could hit Seventh Circle. But when Jacqui stepped outside again, there was no sign of the French boy anywhere. There

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were only the remnants of a stubbed-out joint and some torn rolling papers on the curb.

Jacqui felt deflated. She could still go to the club, but somehow, the prospect wasn't as fun or exciting as it had been when she had assumed Philippe would be with her. Besides, now that she thought about it--she was tired. Running after three kids all day could do that to a girl. She trudged up the stairs, thinking that her SAT book could keep her company. Somehow, knowing she was doing the right thing wasn't as much consolation as she'd thought.

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there's nothing like a may bach to warm a girl's heart

MARA WAS MYSTIFIED TO FIND A FULL CAMERA CREW IN the foyer, setting up overhead lights and screens. One of the guys wearing a headset and carrying a boom almost crashed into Anna's collection of miniature crystal Lladro animal sculptures displayed on a lower shelf. Sugar Perry, wearing a shrunken pink velour hoodie that exposed her midriff, and matching pink velour hot pants, was talking animatedly into the camera. The director, a young guy in faded cords, was kneeling, checking Sugar's image on the monitor, when he noticed Mara hovering by the doorway. "Who's your friend?" he asked, motioning the cameraman to take shots of Mara.

"Oh, that's nobody," Sugar replied in a very bored voice. "She just works here."

But the director ignored Sugar and stared at Mara. "Hi, I'm Randy Braverman from E! Entertainment Network," he said, shaking her hand. "Did Laurie tell you about our show?"

Then Mara remembered. Sugar was starring in a reality show

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about rich kids in the Hamptons this summer. The show's premise was to capture the pampered class's day-to-day life, which meant following Sugar everywhere. Laurie had warned them that by working for the Perrys, their participation was mandatory. They'd all had to sign release forms earlier in the week.

"What's Garrett's car doing here?" Sugar asked, looking out the bay window, where a sleek Mercedes Maybach had pulled up to the driveway.

"That's my ride," Mara explained, inching toward the door and hoping to get out of there as quickly as possible.

'''You're going out with Garrett Reynolds?" Sugar asked, unable to keep the shock from her voice.

"Who's going out with Garrett Reynolds?" Poppy Perry demanded, walking down the stairs. Poppy was a little miffed she hadn't been chosen for the show. Earlier that year their publicist had released a memo to the press requesting that the Perry twins not be called "the Perry twins" in public anymore, but instead be known as "Sugar Perry" and "Poppy Perry" from now on--since they insisted they were two different girls with two different careers. But it had bit Poppy in the ass--apparently, she wasn't as famous as her taller, sexier, more toxic twin.

"I am," Mara said quietly. The Perry twins said Garrett's name in the same way that someone else would say "Prince William" or "Leonardo di Caprio," like he was some k

ind of god.

Poppy's eyes were like saucers. "No way."

"Funny, he didn't mention anything about it last night," Sugar

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said, looking at Mara as if Mara had done something wrong.

"What's it like, dating one of the richest guys in the Hamptons?" Randy Braverman asked, the boom suddenly over Mara's head and the cameras directed on her.

"We're not dating. I mean, it's our first--I mean, I don't know. He's really nice," Mara stammered. "Sorry. I really need to go," she said, scissoring through the crowd to the front door.

Garrett emerged from the backseat of the car, carrying one long-stemmed white rose for Mara. He had slicked his dark hair back from his forehead, and he looked handsome in a butter-cream-colored linen suit.

"Your chariot, milady," Garrett said. "What's going on over here?" he asked, waving to the crowd, who were huddled in the foyer, watching them. The camera was still focused on the two of them, and Sugar was looking dangerously impatient.

Mara accepted the rose and slid inside. "Sugar's taping something for E! You know, the socialite show."