"If you count the kids as nobody," Jacqui retorted.
The only car left in the lot was the tiny little Toyota Prius, and between Cody's car seat and the doctor's girth, it was a bit of a tight squeeze. Jacqui drove them to nearby Georgica, where the kids dispersed--Madison to look for her friends, William to run up and down the boardwalk, and Zoe to collect seashells.
"Don't go far! Only where I can see you!" Jacqui called out as
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she planted her beach umbrella and spread out her towel. She tied her hair back with the Pucci scarf Mara had told her she could borrow.
She stepped out of her cotton sundress and ignored the doctor's stares. She hoped tliat he would get the message and leave her alone.
The SAT tutorial was a little hard to follow--they'd gone over the verbal part of the exam at the class she'd missed to play pool with Philippe the other week. Jacqui just didn't get the word problems. Rock is to mountain as feather is to A) wing, B) chickens, C) pillow, or D) all of the above. In Portuguese, rock also meant "foundation" as well as "soil." In that case, the answer could be A, since wings were made out of feathers--but then, feathers were also the foundation of most pillows, which pointed to C. It was all very confusing.
"Man, that is a boring book!" a voice said from above her.
Jacqui looked up from under her floppy Panama hat and grinned. "Hey, Kit, how are you?"
"I'm good. A little bummed you didn't call the minute you got into town, but I lived," Kit Ashleigh joked, taking a seat next to her. He had a spiky blond crew cut, and he was so pale his nose was already peeling from the sun. He was one of Eliza's best friends, and Jacqui had gotten to know him better in Palm Beach. She knew Kit sort of had a crush on her, but she played it down. She liked Kit--but not in that way. Besides, there was her No More Boys rule, and so long as she was being forced to make it apply to Philippe, it had to apply to Kit as well.
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"I'm sorry. It's been so busy, with the kids. ... I haven't had a day off," Jacqui apologized.
"Who's the dork?" Kit asked, referring to the doctor, who was snoring underneath a paperback copy of Dr. Phil's Family First.
"A falsificacao . . . like a ... duck doctor?" Jacqui had a hard time with American slang.
"Quack?" Kit asked helpfully.
Jacqui nodded excitedly. "Exactly!" Leaning down, she whispered, "I hate him."
Kit nodded. "Let's ditch him," he said conspiratorially.
"What do you have in mind?" Jacqui asked, one finely plucked eyebrow raised.
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is mara the new tara?
MARA WOKE UP WITH NO MEMORY OF WHAT HAD
happened the night before. Her head was pounding, and she was so thirsty she walked to the bathroom and drank wa
ter straight from the faucet, cupping it with her hands. Lately, Mara was always waking up this way. It was almost noon, and as usual, Jacqui and the kids were already gone. She took a long shower, dried her hair, put on her most comfortable outfit--a terry zip-up hoodie swim cover-up--and hid her eye bags under a pair of sleek Oliver Peoples aviator sunglasses, all courtesy of the Mitzi gravy train.
She walked toward the main house, noticing there was a new addition to the Reynolds Castle that morning: a pair of giant armored knight statues that stood guard at the gates. She walked to the kitchen and made herself a smoothie and was rinsing out the blender when the newspaper caught her eye. She leafed through the Post, going straight to her favorite gossip column, Page Six. That's when she saw it.
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"Oh my God." She clamped her hands to her mouth and looked around nervously. She looked at the photo again. Oh my God. Suddenly, images from last night began flooding back, making her head pound harder. Dancing on the table. Yelling at Ryan. Calling Eliza a bitch. But even worse--that awful picture in the paper!
She'd thought Lucky Yap was her friend. Some kind of friend he turned out to be. There it was, right in the middle of the Page Six column--underneath the headline THE NEW TARA REID? was a photo of her from last night. Mara Waters, the nice girl from Sturbridge--or at least that was how she'd always thought of herself--hanging over Garrett, his nose in her cleavage, her boobs literally popping out of her Gucci corset. Good Lord, one nipple had actually escaped from the tight bodice of the neckline!
Mortified didn't even begin to describe her feelings that morning. It was one thing to lose control for an evening and quite another to have it broadcast around the world. Mara hurriedly stuffed the newspaper into the garbage can, hoping nobody would see it. Especially not Ryan. It was just too embarrassing. The new Tara Reid? Even Tara Reid didn't want to have Tara Reid's reputation.
Mara blushed. A little part of her had always felt that even though the Perrys were wildly rich and privileged, there was nothing to be envious of, because they didn't have what she had--a great, solid family, with parents who had instilled in their
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