Crazy Hot (The Au Pairs 4)

"My father said what?" Eliza felt herself turning red. Of course

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her father would assume she had nothing better to do than babysit his girlfriend's children--he'd never really taken her fashion design career seriously. He'd been totally miffed when she postponed Princeton for Parsons.

"I leaving," the girl said again, removing the Bjorn carrier from her chest and handing the baby to Eliza.

Eliza looked down, completely perplexed. How had she wound up with a six-month-old in her arms? Cassidy cooed and gurgled, and she felt her heart melting at the sight of him. But really--she had no time for child care this summer. She had a business to run. "Hey, you can't just--wait!" she called after the Swedish au pair, but the girl was already out the door.

Eliza turned to find Jeremy giving Wyatt a piggyback ride from the bathroom, while Logan and Jackson each clung to one of his knees, mirror images of each other. He approached Violet, who was standing by one of the racks of clothing, looking like she didn't know what to do with herself. "You want to try on some clothes later? When everything's all set up?" he asked.

"Okay," she said with a shy smile, nodding.

"Sounds good. But how about we all clear out of here for now and let Eliza finish her work. There's an outdoor circus down the block." He gently set Wyatt down and then took the baby from Eliza's arms. "I'll take them for a while, don't worry," he told her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks." She nodded gratefully. Her eyes misted. She'd forgotten how good Jeremy was with children. He was going to be

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an awesome father someday--some far, far distant day in the future.

When Jeremy had every last kid out the door, Eliza stopped to think. So Suzy needed an au pair, did she? Maybe even two au pairs? There were four kids and a baby, after all. Quite a handful.

Eliza knew just who to call--if it wasn't too late.

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JACQUI FINDS COMFORT IN A STRANGER

JACQUI WALKED OUT OF THE PERRYS' TOWN HOUSE

feeling like she'd just been sucker punched. All of her plans--her well-laid plans--had disappeared in a puff of smoke. Or, more precisely, in an invitation from Buckingham Palace. Jacqui took the envelope Anna had given her out of her bag and peeked at the check. Looking at all the zeros, she instantly felt a little better. Still, it wasn't nearly enough to cover the entire first year's tuition, especially if she was going to have to find a new place to live for three months on top of that. What good was getting accepted into NYU if she couldn't actually afford to go?

Jacqui made peanuts at Daslu, the designer store in Brazil she'd be forced to work at if she went home--the job was all about the free clothes, which weren't going to pay for college. She pictured the NYU admissions office opening the envelope with her contribution in it and finding a Versace gown instead of a check. She tried to laugh at the image but instead found herself blinking back tears. It felt just like last year when she'd been told she was a perfect

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candidate except for the whole math requirement--close, but no cigar. She wiped her eyes. There would be no NYU in the fall.

Jacqui walked blindly through the streets of New York, not knowing or caring where she was going. She went up Fifth Avenue, past a construction site--they were no doubt building another set of ten-million-dollar luxury apartments, as if the city needed more-- and tried not to notice the construction workers leering at her.

"Baby, don't look so glum---I'll cheer you up!" one of them shouted at her as she walked past, but she just threw him a dirty look and kept walking.

Jacqui used to be flattered when men ogled her, but now she was just disgusted.

Someone had once told her that even in a city full of beautiful women, she stood out like an orchid among roses. But what had being pretty really gotten her in the long run? She looked at herself in a shined-to-perfection shop window, taking in her razor-sharp cheekbones and lustrous dark eyes. Her whole life, Jacqui had wanted to prove that she was more than just an amazing body and a beautiful face. It had been so difficult for her to take the embarrassing fifth year of high school, getting left behind as her friends went to college and regaled her with their success stories. She didn't resent Eliza and Mara's accomplishments, but she did wish she had a few of her own under her belt. Being beautiful didn't seem like an achievement--she'd done nothing to deserve her good looks, other than winning the genetic lottery.

Without realizing where her feet were taking her, Jacqui found

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herself in the middle of Central Park. She spotted a park bench and sat down, watching a family of mallard ducks float on the pond. She wondered if they were hungry and wished she had something to feed them. Whenever Jacqui took the Perry kids here, she thought of Holden Caulfield in The Catcher in the Rye and his fascination with the ducks--he always wondered where the ducks went in the winter and why, despite the inhospitable cold of New York City, they always came back. Why did they try to live in Manhattan when it obviously wasn't a place for a duck? It clearly wasn't a place for a poor girl from Brazil, either. Jacqui felt the tears coming again and blinked furiously.

She'd been kidding herself, thinking that she fit in here. The Perrys had been her substitute family, so much so that she didn't even know her real family anymore. But when it came down to it, she was still considered the help. Help that could so easily be dismissed. It was a painful wake-up call.

I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, she thought fiercely, even as two fat tears slid down her cheeks and plopped onto her lap, staining her whiskered jeans.

She blinked to find a white cotton handkerchief being held under her nose.