"Yeah," Mara replied, standing up to give her sister an awkward
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hug good-bye. Just like them? Who was them-- Sugar and Poppy? What was so wrong about that? They were his sisters, after all. Mara looked at them and then back at herself. Sure, they were all wearing metallic sandals and asymmetrical minidresses, but that didn't mean they were the same. Looks can be deceiving, Mara said to herself. Ryan should have known that better than anyone.
"Is she gone?" Garrett asked, sidling up to Mara.
"Yeah," Mara said. "She was really tired."
"Good," Garrett said, rubbing her back.
Mara flicked the ashes off her cigarette into an empty wineglass since the ashtray was so far away. Across the room, she spotted Eliza and Ryan huddled in a corner with Ryan's friends. Eliza was sitting right next to Ryan, so that their thighs were pressed tightly against each other's, and Eliza was brushing his bangs out of his face--anyone who saw them would think they were a couple.
See, looks can be deceiving, she repeated to herself again.
Then again, sometimes things are just the way they appear.
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i'll break your stupid
french face
ELIZA BUMPED INTO KIT, WHO WAS NURSING A DOUBLE
scotch, when she arrived at Dragonbar. "Hey, dude, what's wrong?" she asked.
Kit motioned to where Jacqui was huddled in a corner with a crew of glamazons.
Everyone else at the party was dressed like gilded lilies, but the true beauties--Jacqui included--were lounging in sweats and sneakers. Jacqui was sitting squarely on Philippe's lap.
"C'mon, let me buy you another drink," Eliza said. "Maker's Mark, right?"
Kit nodded, shaking the ice cubes in his now empty glass.
Philippe walked up next to them. He nodded to Eliza. '"Allo. I think we have met before, yes?" he asked flirtatiously.
"Yes," Eliza nodded, smiling.
Philippe was still wearing makeup, which looked totally goofy up close. He nodded to the bartender and ordered a cosmopolitan.
"Philippe, this is my friend Kit. Kit, this is Philippe. He's one
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of the au pairs this summer at the Perrys'," Eliza explained.
"Hey," Kit said, watching as Philippe took a big slurp of his girly cocktail. The model in eyeliner was a pink-drink man. "You with that girl?" Kit asked, motioning to Jacqui.
Philippe cocked an eyebrow. "What if I am?" he asked.
"Well, she's a friend of mine," Kit said, trying not to let his voice betray more anger than he was feeling.
"Oh yes?" Philippe raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah. And if you break her heart, I'll break your stupid French face," Kit snarled, poking a finger at Philippe's chest and sloshing the pink drink down his silly MODELS SUCK T-shirt.
"Merde," Philippe cursed, turning away without a response, wiping at the pink stain on his T-shirt as he walked away.