"Well, this is an unpleasant surprise," the dulcet tones of Anna Perry said. "I'm sorry to say that Philippe is no longer open for business."
Click.
What? Her hands shook as she turned off her phone. Anna Perry? Then it hit Jacqui: She'd been caught--or at least Anna thought she'd caught her. It was almost comical. After a summer of stealing kisses with Philippe, she'd been caught after they'd already stopped seeing each other.
Jacqui sighed, realizing what this meant: She could kiss that job in New York good-bye. No more working for the Perrys over the school year, no more Stuyvesant, no more college. She had risked everything, just for some guy. Some guy who wasn't even worth it. Some guy who was obviously having an affair with their employer. Her whole future--down the drain.
She looked out the window, frightened as lightning lit up the sky. She dialed another number, hoping against hope that the person she called would pick up the phone.
Fifteen minutes, passed, thirty, then almost an hour--the car was being rocked back and forth by the wind. She had to get out of there, or the car was liable to be carried away by a flash flood soon.
Finally, just as she'd given up hope, the headlights of a hulking
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Lincoln Navigator appeared out of the fog. A boy wearing a yellow slicker ran to the side of the Toyota.
"You all right in there?" Kit called from under underneath the hood of his windbreaker.
She nodded. He helped her out of the car. The water was ankle deep as they waded through to the behemoth SUV. Kit secured Jacqui's door and ran around to the driver's seat. He grinned at her when he climbed back inside.
"Thank you so much," Jacqui said. "I'm so sorry to bother you."
"Not a bother at all." Kit smiled.
Jacqui returned his smile, and for the first time felt butterflies in her stomach. Maybe it was simply her relief at finally being rescued, but Jacqui couldn't stop smiling as Kit navigated his way through the flooded roads.
He explained that all the roads back to East Hampton were blocked, and they were better off going back to his parents' place in Wains cott. They arrived at the Ashleigh compound, the only lit-up house on the street. While the acreage surrounding the property was enormous, the house itself was just a tidy modern box--a long, squat concrete terminal with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out into the ocean. Kit explained that his dad's best friend was a famous architect and had designed it. Apparently, it was small enough--just two thousand square feet--that the European generator they'd installed could power the whole house for weeks.
Kit drove the car into the adjoining garage and led Jacqui into
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the house through the kitchen, where his mother was cooking dinner on the Viking stove in an open loft-style kitchen. Unlike the Perry house, the Ashleigh house was a real home--someplace where people lived, not just a showcase.
There was a huge black canvas on the wall that could only be a very expensive piece of art, and a few spare wool couches and leather-and-chrome chairs, but there was a newspaper disassembled on the coffee table, and dog hair on the couch, and mugs of coffee on the side tables. The shelves were lined with books, and only a few framed platinum records in an unobtrusive nook hinted at Kit's father's prominence in the music industry.
"Hi, dear. Oh, is that your friend?" Kit's mother asked pleasantly. "Awful out there, isn't it? You must be freezing. Christopher, darling, why don't you give Jacqui a sweater and pants from my closet so she can change?"
There was none of the frantic confusion or unorganized panic of the Perry home, and no towels under the doorways, either. The house was built like a bunker--it was an oasis of art and light and great Italian food.
Jacqui thanked her, feeling undeserving of so much hospitality. After showering in the steam bath and changing into a bulky black sweater and a pair of sweatpants, she had dinner with Kit's parents, regaling them with stories of Brazil and her observations of the Hamptons, and after the Ashleighs retired for the evening, she helped Kit load the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen.
They brought out Kit's duvet and snuggled underneath it on
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the couch, watching the news. There were several mudslides reported in the cliffs, and the ocean was rising at a dangerous speed.
"I hope the Perrys are all right," Jacqui said, gnawing on her fingernails. She was worried about them, but also worried about what would happen when she returned. Anna was sure to fire her ass as soon as she set foot back on the estate.
"I'm sure they're fine," Kit said. "I talked to Ryan, and it sounds like they have it under control."
Jacqui leaned her head affectionately on Kit's shoulder. She'd never thought of Kit as anything but a friend, but as she sat beside him on his couch, feeling safe and protected and secure in his warm stone house, Jacqui felt the first stirrings of something deeper--something more than lust--and it dawned on her that maybe this was what really liking someone, as opposed to wanting them, felt like.
"You've got to give me time," she whispered, putting a hand on Kit's red cheek. He was so pale, his skin was too sensitive, and his hair was so blond it was almost white. He definitely had potential.
"Huh?" Kit asked sleepily.