Jacqui went back to her packing, took one last look at the closet--sundresses? Espadrilles? Thongs? Check, check, check-- and zipped up both suitcases. She lugged them out to the door, where now only Anna was waiting.
"Where's Kevin?" Jacqui asked. Over the year, her relationship with her famously demanding employer had become almost sisterly. Anna wasn't as terrifying or insane once you got to know her better, and they had become so friendly that Anna had even begun to confide in Jacqui.
"He's not coming. He got called for a meeting. So now I don't have a date for the East Hampton Day-Care benefit tonight. Men!"
Jacqui followed Anna into the elevator. "It's probably important."
28
"What's more important than spending time with his family? I swear, one of these days, I'm going to call Raoul Felder, just watch me!" Anna said, naming a notorious divorce attorney who handled high-profile marital disintegrations. "Maybe that will make him pay attention! He hardly even looks at me anymore." "Shhh--you shouldn't say that!" Jacqui said, crossing herself. Jacqui was superstitious and didn't believe in tempting bad karma. As far as she could tell, divorce was the last thing that would solve Anna's marital mess. That was the problem these days--everything was considered disposable--clothes, cell phones, relationships. Jacqui knew that once she fell in love-- really fell in love--it would be forever. There would be no divorce in her future if she could help it. Her grandparents had been together for fifty-three years, until Papi died, and her parents had weathered twenty years so far.
"Why not? It's true. He takes me for granted! If I divorce him, he'll finally realize how much I do around here," Anna pouted. She'd told Jacqui that when they first met, Kevin couldn't keep his hands off her, and the two of them would jet to Barbados or Capri at a moment's notice. But years of marriage and its grueling domestic routine had left little time for such pleasures.
Sometimes, Jacqui thought eight-year-old Zoe was more mature than Anna. Jacqui hadn't realized it then, but she knew now that part of her job as an au pair was to take care of Anna as well. As if on cue, Anna rested her head on Jacqui's shoulder.
29
"He couldn't do a thing without you," Jacqui said soothingly as they walked out of the building and into the black stretch limousine parked in front of the awning.
"Tell that to him," Anna said bitterly. She shook her head. "Anyway, how was graduation? Everything went well?"
It was nice of Anna to remember. Jacqui climbed into the limo and told Anna a little bit about the ceremony. The class had even been able to snag Tina Fey as a speaker since her housekeeper's daughter went to the school. She wasn't their first choice--Hillary Clinton was. But the senator had canceled due to a last-minute scheduling conflict. Such was life in the city.
The car pulled away and began winding its way down and across town toward the helicopter landing. As they turned left on Park Avenue, Jacqui suddenly realized she'd forgotten to pack the most crucial item for a summer in the Hamptons.
Her favorite Rosa Cha seashell-trimmed bikini. Three pieces of tiny fabric attached by a string. She'd shown her girlfriends back in Brazil the bathing suits Americans considered sexy. They had all laughed at the size of the bikini bottoms. They looked gigantic compared to the tiny tangas they were used to wearing.
If only she'd remembered to grab it. Oh, well. It just meant she'd have fun buying a new one, even if she'd have to "Brazilianize" it a bit if she wanted to feel like herself.
30
somewhere, chris martin is singing his heart out
THEY ARRIVED AT THE SAG HARBOR YACHT CLUB-TINY WHITE
lights illuminated the crisp sails against a dark sky. The forty-seven-foot-long Perry yacht was docked in a choice location--the first off the pier, nearest to the water. Ryan pulled up alongside the other cars parked across from their owners' boats.
"Your castle, milady," he joked, but it wasn't that far from the truth. The sleek sailboat was a twin-engine Catalina with a spacious and elegant master stateroom, guest V-berths, three bathrooms, a galley kitchen, a living room, and satellite TV. "It sleeps ten, so it should be big enough for the two of us."
Mara gasped. It was even larger and more beautiful than she'd remembered, with its hand-polished teak decks, sleek fiberglass finish, and moniker The Malpractice (so named after the lawsuits that had paid for the yacht) painted in platinum leaf on the transom. Three triangular flags flew at the top of the mast: the Stars and Stripes, the yacht club logo, and the Perrys' own family coat of arms. She walked to the end of the dock, removed her shoes, and carefully stepped barefoot onto the deck of the boat, where she found a trail of rose petals leading to the downstairs cabins.
31
"What's this?" she asked, looking at him wonderingly.
Ryan followed her down, half hidden underneath all of her luggage. "You'll see."
She followed the trail of red rose petals and found that it led to the front deck, where a table and two chairs were set for a formal dinner.
"Oh!" Mara said, clasping her hands.
The starched white tablecloth held two dinner settings, Royal Copenhagen porcelain plates in a fleur jouy pattern. In the middle of the table stood silver chafing dishes warmed by a small gaslight. The smell of roasted chicken, herbed vegetables, and other succulent treats wafted up from the table. A silver bucket by the side of the rails held a magnum of Veuve Clicquot champagne.
Ryan dumped the bags on the floor and walked up to Mara, embracing her from behind and whispering in her ear, "Welcome home."
Mara felt her eyes well up with tears. It was the most romantic thing she'd ever seen--and not at all cheesy and contrived, like an episode of The Bachelor. This was the real thing. And it was all for her.
A waiter in a white dinner jacket came out of the shadows and bowed. "Is it all to your satisfaction, Mr. Perry?" he asked with a slight French accent.