Crazy Hot (The Au Pairs 4)

Jacqui settled down in the lounge chair, a little nervous to be left alone with all the models.

"Twenty pages. You must be so excited!" Fiona, a petite British girl who was a dead ringer for Kate Moss, smiled, putting aside the

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issue of French Vogue she'd been reading. She poured Jacqui a mar-garita from the pitcher beside her and Jacqui took it gratefully.

"Is it your first?" Sam, a tan, raven-haired, green-eyed girl asked. She had a slight midwestern accent. "I remember my first Vogue with the boys," she added, looking off into the distance as if she were reminiscing about years past. "We went to Paris. I was so excited--I'd never been out of the country before that."

Jacqui took a sip of the ice-cold drink. Other than Sao Paulo, she'd never been anywhere but New York and one trip to Florida with the Perrys, and she felt the slightest bit jealous. But then, she would be starting NYU in the fall, her dream, so who was she to complain?

"How'd you like working with the Eastons? They are very sweet, no? Midas can be a bit of a stickler, but the pictures come out beautiful," Katrinka jumped in, pushing her sunglasses back on her spiky red hair.

Jacqui nodded. "I like it. To be honest, I didn't expect to, but it's a lot of fun," she admitted. She was surprised at how friendly these girls were. The models she'd met in the past had been distinctly bubble-headed, catty, and hostile. And it was sort of nice to be able to talk to people who understood what she'd been up to all summer.

"When my issue came out, I got signed by Versace to do their ads," Sam said, piling her luxurious dark hair on top of her head. "Just wait--your life is totally about to change," she added excitedly, her green eyes sparkling as she smiled eagerly at Jacqui

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"How do you mean?"

"It happened so quickly," Sam said, folding herself in her arms and tucking her legs underneath her chin. "I mean, one minute, I was just nannying on the Upper East Side, kind of bumming around, not really doing much, and suddenly I was on a private jet to Morocco with Marc Jacobs and Andre Leon Talley."

"You were a nanny?" Jacqui asked, surprised. She removed her Tory Burch cover-up and began to lather the body oil Sam handed her on her skin. She was feeling more at ease by the minute.

"Yeah. No one can work a juice box like me." Sam winked. "Is that an Eliza Thompson?" she asked, critically studying Jacqui's swimsuit.

Jacqui nodded. "She's a friend of mine, actually. And I'm an au pair."

"Not for long," Sam said wisely.

"I'm not sure I want to make modeling my life, though," Jacqui told them.

"Oh, it doesn't have to be. Do you think I'll be doing this when I'm twenty-five? Be serious." Sam shook her head. "I'm totally doing the Christy Turlington thing. Retire, start up a company, marry a cute guy, have a great family."

"In the meantime, the traveling is awesome," Fiona gushed. "Last week I was in Shanghai, Milan, and the Canary Islands. The lifestyle is great--it's so flexible. You can work if you want, but if you don't want to, you don't have to get out of bed."

"And of course, there are the parties." Katrinka nodded. "Not

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to mention getting to stay in this little cottage here." She waved a hand at the enormous stately house behind her.

"Your agency put you up here?" Jacqui asked. A little shack on the beach this was not.

"Yup, it's their little gift to us to let us relax and get away from the city. We're all roommates in New York too. In a little loft in the Bowery. You should come by sometime."

"I will," Jacqui agreed, thinking that a loft in the Bowery sounded a whole lot cooler than a tiny little dorm room. Looking around at the three confident, beautiful girls--each with a distinctive look and a lucrative contract--she began to think that if she ever were to model full-time, she could do worse than become a Chrysler girl.

"Can I steal you for a moment?" Marcus interrupted, coming over with a fresh drink and holding out a hand. Jacqui bid the girls goodbye, and he brought her over to a more private area of the pool patio.

"Big news," he continued once they were alone. "That was Gilles Bensimon I was just chatting with. Midas and I sent him some outtakes from the Vogue shoot last week and he loved them. We're going to Paris!" he said gleefully, picking her up and spinning her on the grass.

"Meu Deus! Paris?"

"The City of Lights! Singin in the Rain! Funny Face!" Marcus laughed. "Picture it: you and I walking along the Seine together. Dancing at Les Bains. It's going to be absolutely brilliant."