Sun-kissed (The Au Pairs 3)

eliza turns main street into an haute couture

drop zone

MARA WAS STILL CHEWING ON HER NAILS, WORRIED ABOUT the fate of her assignment and wondering where the hell Ryan was. She'd tried calling him on the boat, but he hadn't picked up the phone. He really should have arrived at the party by now. She was contemplating calling him again when the lights in the store dimmed and the raised runway was illuminated in a pink glow. The guests' conversations hushed, and they clapped halfheartedly, manicured fingernails clinking against the crystal.

Runway-staple French techno music wailed from the overhead speakers, and the first model, dressed in a spray-painted tiger-print caftan, walked out of the back room and onto the platform. Model after model followed, each wearing a variation on the jungle theme, and Mara noticed that the clothes were actually interesting to look at. With their tie-dyed and spray-painted details, they represented a radical and slightly avant-garde departure for the Sydney Minx line.

Mara took copious notes while Jacqui chugged champagne.

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After fifteen minutes, the final model, wearing a tangerine tunic and turquoise hot pants airbrushed with gold flecks, abruptly stopped mid-walk. The music was suddenly drowned by an ear-splitting noise coming from outside the store. The audience turned away from the runway and crowded to the front of the store to look out the window to find out what had caused the interruption.

Hovering above the store was an ominous-looking black army helicopter.

"Is that our Black Hawk?" Duffy asked.

"Nah--no logo. Must be a rental."

Mara and Jacqui followed the crowd outside. A rope ladder was being lowered from the helicopter, and a familiar figure was climbing down toward the sidewalk.

"Oh my God! It's Eliza!" Mara gasped.

So it was. Eliza descended from the rope ladder wearing a daringly cut, shredded chiffon dress and thigh-high crocodile boots. She had several chunky interlocked gold chain rope necklaces around her neck. As the wind kicked up by the helicopter blades whipped the dress around, Eliza sauntered straight from the rope ladder to the sidewalk, into the store, and onto the runway stage without breaking her confident stride.

The photographers rewarded her with a shower of flashbulbs-- and the momentarily stunned crowd broke into enthusiastic cheers and wolf whistles. They had seen a lot of things in the Hamptons-- but a fashion show finale via helicopter was a definite first.

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Eliza grinned as she posed for the camera, bathed in the klieg lights. It had worked! She'd made it happen! She'd managed to track down Vidalia at the model's fifth-floor walk-up in the East Village. At first, she had planned on having Vidalia do the honors, but the model had been so hung over from the party the night before, there was no way she was going to look presentable for the fashion show. So Eliza put the dress on herself and thanked God she was a sample size. Then she chartered a helicopter flight on her new Marquis Jet Card (thank you, AmEx!) that took her from New York to the Hamptons in a snap. Those nifty little Black Hawks sure came in handy.

She looked toward where Paige and Sydney were standing in the corner. She couldn't see that well because the flashbulbs blinded her, but she was certain they were going to congratulate her on a job well done. She'd pulled it off all by herself--this was surely a spectacle that the Hamptons would be talking about for the rest of the summer.

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mayday! mayday!

"WE DID IT!" ELIZA CROWED, STEPPING OFF THE RUNWAY and holding out her arms to envelop Paige and Sydney in a hug. "Isn't this amazing?" she cried as the photographers continued to snap her picture.

Only when the flashbulbs died down did Eliza realize that Sydney and Paige did not share in her happiness one bit. She'd expected Paige to be a little jealous, sure, but wasn't she the one who'd told Eliza she had to "fix" it or else? Why couldn't she at least look a tiny bit happy that she'd pulled it off? Instead, Paige looked like she was going to vomit, and Sydney's eyes were murderous. Hello, had she missed something here?

The smile evaporated from Eliza's face. "What's wrong? Did you guys not like the helicopter? Don't worry, I've got it covered. I have a Marquis Jet Card. I won't charge it to the company--my treat."

"Paige, you know what you have to do," Sydney said ominously before turning his back without even acknowledging Eliza's presence.

"Eliza, can I have a word?" Paige asked coldly.

What now? She'd managed to save the evening--and they

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were acting like she'd done something terrible. As if she'd failed to deliver the goods instead of coming through with a bang. This was so not what she expected. She followed Paige to the back room.

"What's going on?" she asked. Her face glistened from the heat of the photographer's lights.

"You're fired," Paige said flatly. Eliza noticed Paige couldn't quite conceal a note of glee in her voice. Paige had wanted this all along. The little brownnoser, who couldn't style an outfit if you put a Bedazzler to her head, had just been waiting for Eliza to trip up. Eliza just wasn't sure how she'd managed to make such a mess of things. Something didn't compute.

"But I don't understand. ..."