Skinny Dipping (The Au Pairs 2)

little bit?" she asked. "I'm so wired and I know I won't be able to sleep for a while yet. We could watch Godfather Two. ..."

"Sure." Ryan shrugged. He didn't seem to want to be alone just yet either.

Ryan sat back on the couch, and Eliza tiptoed out of the kitchen holding a bowl of micro waved popcorn and two bottles of Diet Coke. She popped the DVD in. It was so natural, hanging out with Ryan. He'd been in the background all her life. She remembered how when they were little, their families used to vacation together in the Bahamas at Christmas. They'd learned to ski together on the slopes of Aspen. Eliza remembered Ryan's mom-- his real mom, Brigitte--saying the two of them would make a good couple when they grew up. Back then, Sugar and Poppy were still called Susan and Priscilla, and they'd followed Eliza around like little puppies, competing with each other to be the one to brush her hair or be her ski-lift partner. The twins sure had changed, but Ryan was still die same--still here, still right next to her.

Robert De Niro was beating up some guys on the screen, and Eliza leaned back on the couch, nestling her head on Ryan's shoulder. But when Ryan leaned down to say something, their lips met instead. She didn't mean for it to happen, but instead of pulling away, Eliza opened her mouth to his. He pulled up her sweatshirt and began to unbutton her blouse, unhooking her bra, kissing every inch of her.

She was thinking it was wrong--that she should stop him-- but it felt so . . . right. It was just like in Palm Beach, exactly like

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in Palm Beach--two broken hearts finding comfort in each other. That was all it was really, just hooking up. It didn't mean anything, she told herself.

And then she wasn't thinking of anything at all, because Ryan was kissing her again, and whatever worries she had, whatever doubts about where this was headed (nowhere, she thought), and what it would mean (nothing, she hoped) were made completely irrelevant by the sweet insistence of his lips on hers.

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the doctor is definitely out

"WHERE'S MARA?" ZOE ASKED WHEN JACQUI ARRIVED to get the kids ready the next morning.

"She's sick," Jacqui said grimly, helping the little girl tie her bathrobe. "It's only me, okay?" Mara had certainly looked green around the gills that morning. Mara had overslept again, and when Jacqui tried to wake her, she'd mumbled something about a killer hangover, which was turning into a frequent excuse. Philippe was gone on another errand for Anna, and Mara and Jacqui had agreed that if Jacqui dealt with the kids yesterday, Mara would take the kids today so Jacqui could study for her SATs. But of course, Mara had flaked again.

"Where's Philippe? Where's Philippe?" William asked, alternately bouncing on his sneakers and gliding on the built-in wheels. Jacqui cursed whoever had invented the damn things-- they made William twice as fast and harder to catch.

"I'm not sure," Jacqui said. "I think your mom needed him to do something for her in the city again." Laurie had told her that

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some French papers Anna wanted translated needed a few more corrections. It sounded incredibly fishy. Since agreeing to Anna's ultimatum, she had kept away from Philippe as directed, which was a little hard to do since every time Philippe caught her alone in the house, he wanted to know when he could see her again. He'd even accused her of playing hard-to-get, which Jacqui found ironic.

" I told you, she's not my mom!" William shouted in a deafening tone.

"Okay! Okay! Calm down, please!" Jacqui said. "Merda!" she cursed when she realized she'd forgotten to put swimming diapers on Cody. The regular ones weren't waterproof.

"Madison, are you coming with us today?" Jacqui asked. For the past month Madison had been standoffish with the au pairs, since they were technically not responsible for her anymore.

"I'm meeting a friend there," Madison nodded. She was perfectly turned out in a pink bathing suit and a velour cover-up and was primping with a mascara wand in the mirror.

"That's a lot of makeup for the beach, don't you think?" Jacqui asked, amused.

"That bikini's a little revealing, don't you think?" Madison snapped back, applying a deep berry lip gloss.

Jacqui felt a little hurt. She'd bonded with Madison last summer, and this year the child was a little beeyatch. And her stepmother didn't seem to care that the eleven-year-old walked around looking like a little tramp.

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"It just gets a little hot on the beach, and it's bad for your skin," Jacqui said gently.

"I don't care," Madison declared.

Jacqui folded up Cody's stroller. He was getting way too big for it; his legs almost came up to his chin when he sat in it. The "baby" was four years old and he still preferred to ride rather than walk. Just yesterday, when she'd wheeled him out on Main Street, several women had asked her if her boy was "special," i.e., crippled. "Nope, just lazy!" Jacqui had said cheerfully.

For all of Anna's hypervigilance about the kids' diets, academic goals, and spirituality, Jacqui had never seen kids who were so lacking in the basics.

As she ushered them to the garage, they bumped into Dr. Abraham, walking out of a guest suite and munching on a banana. "We're off to the beach today? Hold on!" he said, and before Jacqui could disagree, the doctor ran out of his room carrying his tote bag.

"Looks like I have you all to myself," Dr. Abraham joked, seeing that Mara and Philippe were nowhere in sight.