Crazy Hot (The Au Pairs 4)

"Oh, Mara." Davids shoulders sagged in relief and he pulled her in for a close hug. She nestled her head against his neck, remembering how strong and solid he felt. "I missed you so much," he whispered gently in her ear.

When they finally pulled apart, David smiled mischievously. "And I almost forgot, I got you something."

She knew instantly what'd he'd brought her--a copycat Birkin, from the famous stall near the Trevi Fountain. He'd gotten her text after all. He really had been listening.

She pulled him close, and as their lips met by the crashing sea, Mara's heart filled with contentment. A boyfriend and a Birkin-- what more could any girl want?

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www.blogspot/hamptonsaupair1

it's not just a job, it's a relationship

There's something that they don't tell you and that you totally don't expect until you start taking care of other people's children. It's that you start thinking of them--and loving them--as your own. S. needn't have worried. Those kids are my life. Wyatt finally scored a decent grade on his KRTs (PHEW!) and to celebrate, I let him have a video game. (SHHHH!) The twins surprise and delight me every day with their inquisitive and unique view of the world. Yesterday after they found me scribbling notes for my book, they told me they too were going to pen their memoirs. (Tales of a First-Grade Nothing? Heartbreaking Works of Staggering Precociousness?) Cassidy is the happiest baby ever--not just on the block. If only Violet would come out of her shell a little. I wish I could find a way to let her know it's okay to have a little fun sometimes.

On a harsher note, it's easier to spot Christie Brinkley at the yacht club than J. at work these days. Her modeling shoot has taken over most of her time, and I know she's in the busy process of becoming an international sensation--this week she did a five-minute spot for a Japanese car commercial and had to learn how to say, "Take the wheel," in Japanese--but really, couldn't she pay a little attention to

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the home front? While I don't mind (much), I just wish she'd tell me when to expect her (or not expect her) so I'm not waiting around for her to burp the baby or take the kids to squash lessons all the time. I don't want to get in the way of her transformation into "The Body" (as everyone is calling her since that saucy photo of her ran in Hamptons mag). I just wish she'd bring her body over to help with doing the baby laundry sometime.

But the good news is that D. is back!!! I have a boyfriend again!!! He's staying at his parents' rarely used summer home in North Fork (they're not exactly beach types, or vacation types for that matter, if you know what I mean) and has claimed that his only job for the rest of the summer is to make his prior absence up to me. So far, he's been true to his word. He's been really great with the kids--we took them sailing in his boat the other day, and tomorrow we're all going to the Nautical Museum out in Riverhead. It's been wonderful to have him here. I take back all my bitching and whining. Yesterday he took me to the annual Writers & Artists softball game (his mom sponsors the Writers team) and we met all these famous authors. It was v. cool. They all seemed to know him--he's like everyone's favorite godson or something. He was nice enough to mention that I was a writer too, although I don't think a few clips in Hamptons and Metropolitan Circus really counts. Still, it was nice to pretend.

Till next time, HamptonsAuPair1

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IS MIDAS THE GUY NOT TAKEN?

AFTER A LONG DAY AT THE STORE, ELIZA SENT THE

salesgirl home, preferring to close up shop herself. This was her favorite part of the day--tallying the day's receipts, putting back all the clothing on the racks, tidying up and making sure everything was in order. It was her own tiny little retail kingdom, and she loved the peace and quiet.

She was folding the last of the linen sweaters when there was a knock on the door. Eliza glanced up to see Midas in the store window, waving to her. She buzzed him inside.

"Are you busy?" he asked, glancing at the pile of sweaters in her hand. "I've got something to tell you, and it deserves a bit of champagne."

"What is it?" she asked warily, setting the sweaters gently on a lower shelf. "I have to warn you, I hate surprises. . . ." Her voice trailed off as she remembered the last time a guy had a surprise for her--it had ended with a very heavy rock on her finger.

He shook his head with a grin. "Mum's the word until we've

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got drinks in our hands." He ushered her out of the store. Main Street was emptying as the shops closed, but the streets glowed with late-summer light. "Let's just pop in here." Midas motioned to a tiny hotel bar along the avenue.

They walked into the dark recess, feeling the cold blast of the air-conditioning hit their skin. The bar was cozy, with plush red velvet cushions on cane-backed chairs, and bamboo lining the walls.

"I like this place," Midas proclaimed as his sharp blue eyes took in the decor. "Its like a pub in Rangoon, you know--men in white linen suits and fedoras, the sun setting on the British Empire, all that jazz."

"Mmm. The British raj. Khakis against pink saris." Eliza nodded. She too viewed every unique setting as a possible stage for a fashion shoot. It was also the way she dressed--every outfit told a story. Today she had put on a pretty, floral-print forties-style Rodarte dress with a nipped-in waist and bell sleeves, matched with her black-and-white Brian Atwood spectator pumps, because she was feeling very Scarlett Johansson in The Black Dahlia. Not that she'd even liked that movie, but the clothes were to die for. Pun intended.

The waitress approached, and they ordered--a martini for her, a Manhattan with bitters for him.

"So, khaki with pink ... I can see your mind working." Midas leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing her from across the table.

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"I need ideas for my resort collection," she admitted, running a finger over the bamboo coaster. She shivered slightly in her thin silk dress and wondered if she could ask the bartender to turn down the air-conditioning.