Crazy Hot (The Au Pairs 4)

J. is a supermodel! Her photos from the Fourth of July party appeared everywhere. E. can't stock enough of that dress. ... J. is also now dating that handsome photog, who's a bit too slick for my taste but is definitely a cutie. J. is over the moon, singing while she changes diapers; she's in such a good mood she didn't even blink when S. called us in for an emergency meeting after Wyatt failed his KRTs. Poor kid's gotta go in for remedial kinder-tutoring.

As far as I know, E. and J. are on the road to the altar, although E. is so busy with the store she hasn't begun to plan the wedding or even

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picked a date. Gotta get that girl on the ball. Doesn't she know it takes a year to get everything together? Oh, well. From the way she waves the subject off every time I ask about it, she isn't in any sort of rush.

Meanwhile, D. is officially out of the picture. Haven't heard from him since the day before I sent my nasty e-mail, when he was in Rome. (Apparently, D.'s last words as my boyfriend will have been to convey that the pasta in Italy is beyond scrumptious. I'll never know.) I really should have waited just a little while to get drunk and mean, since I'd asked him to pick me up a fake Hermes bag from this guy E. knows who has a table by the Trevi Fountain a while back. I can't really hope he'll still bring me one now that we no longer appear to be together, right? Is there such a thing as a breakup parting gift?

And not to keep whining, but I really, really don't want to run into my ex R. and his new gal pal T. Thank God, I haven't seen them anywhere, not even at the tea shop where R. gets all his super-antioxidant green tea that he's addicted to. Phew. I don't want to be a bitch (but I will be), but T. isn't all that great. I know she's gorgeous and athletic and good-spirited and all (at least that's what R. always said about her--sans the gorgeous part, although that was obvious enough to everyone). But can I just point out that she has a slightly horse face and a hyena-like laugh. A veritable zoo in one package. Okay. That was so Mean Girls. But whatever. I'm allowed. No one reads this blog anyway, right?

Till next time,

HamptonsAuPair1

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dalai lama says: enlightenment means making friends out of enemies

MARA WOKE UP TO THE SOUND OF THE BABY CRYING from the monitor. As she eased her feet into her slippers, she shot a grumpy look in the direction of Jacqui's empty bed. It was Jacqui's turn to give Cassidy a bath and a bottle, but the Brazilian au pair was nowhere to be found. Since hooking up with Marcus on the Fourth of July, she'd spent almost all of her free time with him, even after the shoots. She was usually good about getting back to the mansion before the kids woke up, but this time, she was late.

Mara dialed her cell number. It rang and rang and then went to voice mail. Not willing to give up that easily, she tried again. Jacqui picked up on the last ring.

"Jac? Where are you?" Mara asked, trying to sound more concerned than irritated.

"Mmmpph?"

"It's seven; we need to get the kids ready. It's Dalai Lama day, remember?"

"Merda!" Mara heard the phone clatter as it fell to the floor

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and then Jacqui's voice again. "I'm so sorry, I overslept. But I can get there and be ready to go in an hour."

Mara sighed. The kids had to be in Southampton's largest auditorium before then. Their father, before he'd gone on his walkabout and never returned, had raised his kids as Buddhists, the religion he was practicing at the time. Suzy, who wasn't religious, made sure the kids kept to the noble eightfold path so that they'd feel close to him when he came back--whenever that was. The Dalai Lama was in town for a whole week of events, but the morning's special lecture, "Making Peace," was to be the highlight of his trip.

"Don't worry about it," Mara told Jacqui. "I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?" Jacqui asked, although the relief in her voice was all too evident.

"I'm sure," Mara said with a huff, keeping an eye on the clock. She had to get the kids dressed, fed, and out the door as soon as possible if they were going to make it.

"We were out last night with some friends of theirs from Auckland, and Deus, can those Kiwis drink! We didn't get in until five in the morning. Marcus promised me he'd set the alarm, but--Marcus ... what are you doing? Don't, I'm not ready. . . . Oof! He just took my picture!" Mara heard the sound of Jacqui pummeling her boyfriend with a pillow. When Jacqui came back on the line, she was still giggling. "Seriously, though, if you need me, I can meet you there," Jacqui offered.

"I told you, it's okay. Do you know where the kids' togas are?"

"Togas?"

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"You know, the Tibetan prayer robes they have to wear. I asked you to send them out with the dry cleaning on Friday."

"Oh." There was a pause. "I forgot," Jacqui admitted in a small voice.

Mara sighed. She didn't want to complain--after

all, Jacqui was now the "face" of the Eliza Thompson line, and being seen at all the right events was part of that job--but it was the third time that week that Jacqui had messed up on the job. Last Thursday she'd been out all night with Marcus and had been so out of it the next day that she'd brought Violet to chess camp and the twins to ballet. Mara didn't want to say anything, but it was getting ridiculous.