The au pairs skinny-dipping (13 page)

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looked so good the other night at Seventh Circle. Eliza's eyes widened as she pawed through the loot. The leopard-print Shoshanna cape! The latest Alvin Valley leather-band trousers! The turquoise-encrusted Marni dress! The two-thousand-dollar Devi Kroell python clutch!

"Wow, that is crazy," Eliza said. "I can't believe you have all these!"

The Sally Hershberger jeans! She'd been lusting for a pair ever since she read about them in Vogue. They were supposed to be the best jeans on earth, the softest, rarest European and Japanese denim cut by the hand by Sally Hershberger--the Hollywood stylist who charged six hundred dollars for a haircut.

"Do you think I could borrow them? We're the same size, right?" Eliza asked, pulling the jeans out and pressing them against her legs.

"Oh, I don't know," Mara said nervously. "I had to sign all these responsibility forms."

Eliza pouted. "That's only a formality. They really won't want these back ever. Right, Jac?"

Jacqui shrugged. "They usually let you keep them, but it depends, I guess."

Eliza had already stepped out of her cargos and zipped up the jeans. "They look amazing! I can't believe they sent them to
you\"
She said.

"Why not?" Mara asked, feeling a little hurt. Eliza hadn't come over to hang out with them all summer and now that she

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was here, she didn't seem to think Mara deserved the free clothes from Mitzi.

Eliza didn't answer. She was too excited to be wearing the jeans. "Can I borrow them? Please, please, please? With sugar on top?"

"Oh, all right," Mara said, caving in. "But if anything happens to them . . . !" she raked her thumb across her neck.

Eliza squealed and hugged Mara tightly. "I owe you!"

Mara still didn't feel it was totally right to lend Eliza clothes that weren't hers, but she didn't feel like she could really say no.

"So what's going on with you and Garrett?" Eliza asked, changing back into her own clothes. Jacqui handed Eliza a shopping bag for the jeans.

"I like him," Mara said hesitantly. "He's a cool guy. I thought he was just some obnoxious rich kid, but he's not."

"What about Ryan?" Jacqui asked.

"He doesn't even remember that I'm alive," Mara shrugged. The new, aloof Ryan was sure not the sweet boy she remembered from last summer. "So, I don't know. Who cares about him, right?"

Eliza felt relieved. It looked like she could stop worrying about Palm Beach. If Mara had moved on from Ryan, then who cared? Even Jacqui had stopped thinking it was a big deal. Like everyone else in the Hamptons, she'd started to think of Mara as Garrett Reynolds's new girlfriend.

Mara found an outpost of her bank, and after depositing her money met Eliza and Jacqui at the Neiman Marcus Last Call

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store at the outlet mall, where they were browsing through the discounted designer offerings. The place was famous for selling glamorous duds from seasons past at fire-sale prices. Price tags were stamped with color-coded stickers according to date, and the longer they remained unsold, the cheaper they became.

"Check it out!" Eliza giggled, holding up a minuscule orange tube top with a busy multicolored print. "Do you think it's too much?"

"It's definitely loud," Mara agreed.

"But it's Missoni," Eliza said reverently. "And in my size. I'm getting it. It's going to look great with my new jeans," she said, already feeling possessive of the Hershberger denim. She found several other choice pieces--a nifty little white Balenciaga coat dress that didn't look too last-season, and a Yves Saint Laurent lipstick-print skirt with a small black smudge that Eliza was sure a good dry cleaner could get out. Jacqui found a gray Narciso Rodriguez shift and a pair of Christian Dior sunglasses, both at less than half price.

"You're not getting anything?" Eliza asked Mara, as they walked up to the counter. "Did you see the Marc Jacobs flats back there?"

"I have the new ones," Mara said, wiggling her toes in a pair of the designer's

bubble-gum-colored open-toed shoes.

"Oh," Eliza said, feeling a little strange that Mara of all people would be the one with the latest "it" garments. She had thought all along that being associated with Seventh Circle would bring

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her those kinds of perks, but so far, the only bounty she'd scored was a free movie pass to a screening Kartik wasn't interested in.

"I just have so many clothes at home that I haven't even worn yet," Mara sighed as she absently picked up an open perfume bottle near the counter and took a big sniff.

Did Mara not hear how snotty she sounded?
"Yeah, I forgot, you're like, the Julia Roberts of the Hamptons," Eliza grumbled, even more ticked when her total at the cash register was more than what was left on her card. "Jac, do you think I could borrow a fifty?"

Jacqui shook her head while handing Eliza the money. Eliza would never change. Give the girl a million bucks and she would still be broke by midweek. Apparently looking like a million cost that much too. Unless you were Mara Waters, of course.

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the world looks

better from atop a pedestal (or a table)

"CAN WE GET ONE OF MARA ONLY?" THE PHOTOGRAPHERS
demanded when Garrett and Mara stepped out of the Maybach at the entrance to Seventh Circle late on a Saturday night. Since the Fourth of July, which they'd spent together on the Reynoldses' boat watching fireworks burst above the Atlantic, the two of them had been inseparable.

"Be my guest," Garrett bowed, stepping aside. "She's something else, isn't she?" he asked, as Mara was blinded by flashbulbs.

"You are such a star," he growled in her ear as they settled into their usual table. Even though she'd initially gone out with Garrett only to make Ryan jealous, Mara couldn't help but enjoy his company.

He swung an arm around the back of the booth and put his hand possessively on her shoulder. She snuggled underneath his armpit, liking the feel of his heavy hand on her bare skin. Garrett leaned over for a kiss, settling in to nuzzle his cheek against her neck at the same moment she looked up from the table, straight

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into the eyes of Ryan Perry. He was standing next to Allison, who was waving to Garrett.

Garrett disengaged from Mara's cleavage. "Perry!" he said, throwing out a hand. "Hey, AH. What are you doing with this bozo?" he joked.

Ryan shook Garrett's hand grimly. "Hi, Garrett. Mara."

"Hey," she said back. It was the most Ryan had said to her all week. Usually he'd just nod at her curtly if she bumped into him at the house.

Garrett stood up to kiss Allison on the cheek. "Sit down with us, c'mon."

Ryan raised his eyebrow to Allison, who shrugged and returned Garrett's smile. "Sure," she said, taking the seat next to Garrett.

Ryan was wearing a loose-fitting guayabera shirt and faded blue jeans, what he used to joke was "surfer black-tie." Garrett suddenly looked overdressed in his Dolce & Gabbana French-cuffed dress shirt and starchy dark denim jeans.

Mara disengaged herself from Garrett, but Ryan turned around and started talking only to Allison, who was giggling at something Garrett was whispering in her other ear. Garrett explained that he and Allison went to the same prep school back in New York, and soon, the three of them began talking about kids they knew in common.

"Did you hear about Fence Preston? He's about to blow up, for sure," Garrett was saying.

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"You're so much cuter," Allison said, poking Ryan in the nose affectionately.

Mara, who had no idea who or what a Fence Preston was, felt nervous and neglected. But Garrett made sure to refill her glass whenever it was half-empty, and she began downing drinks with a vengeance.

"Let's do shots," Garrett suggested.

"Sure," Mara agreed.

Garrett ordered a bottle of Goldschlager and poured the clear liquid with golden sparkles into four glasses.

"This stuff is gross," Allison said daintily, taking a small sip and making a face.

Ryan grimly knocked his back. Mara, wanting desperately to impress him, did the same with hers. "Let's do another!" Garrett howled, and the three of them pounded back a few more.

It was right about the time that all four shots hit Mara that the DJ played his nightly remix of Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer." Seventh Circle regulars like Garrett and Mara recognized it as the Seventh Circle anthem. It was the song that officially kicked off the evening and was guaranteed to get the celebrities dancing on the tables.

"I looooove this song!" Mara howled, singing along. "This is awesome!"

"Isn't this the best?" Chauncey Raven asked, leaning over to their banquette. The petite pop star was wearing a black bra underneath a tight white T-shirt, and a denim mini with the

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hems slashed so high that the white pockets peeked out from underneath. She was barefoot, with a sparkly toe ring. "C'mon, let's dance!" she said, climbing up on their table and pulling Mara up to join her.

Feeling dizzy and exhilarated, Mara followed the pop star's lead, and the two of them gyrated hips and threw their hair around in a dazzling imitation of a cheesy eighties music video.

"You too!" Chauncey said, noticing Allison sitting down.

Allison shook her head, a bemused expression on her face. "Oh no, thanks, I prefer to do my dancing on chairs."

"Oh, I forgot my drink!" Chauncey said, hopping off in search of her cocktail glass.

Alone on top of the table, Mara accidentally kicked the bottle of Goldschlager to the side, and Ryan Perry saved it from crashing to the floor at the last minute. Mara froze for a moment, feeling vulnerable and exposed. She noticed that Ryan was looking at her strangely. Maybe she should get off the table. She hesitated-- but then Garrett cheered at her.

"All right!
Go, Mara!"
he yelled, whooping it up. He was laughing and wolf whistling, and several other people in club turned to cheer as well. Inspired, she danced even more wildly. The banquette was soon bathed in the spotlight of photographers' flashbulbs.

"Over here!"

"Look this way, luv!"

"Over your shoulder, Mara!"

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"Can we get one with you leaning over Garrett?"

Only too happy to oblige, Mara leaned over and gave Garrett a kiss on his forehead, sending the paparazzi into a frenzy as their cameras flashed. Mara slunk her hips, pouting and posing, noticing how Ryan couldn't take his eyes off her. Finally! He was looking at her!

Wooooaaah, we're halfway there-uh. . . . Whoooahh, livin on a pray ah . .
.'" she sang. She was having the time of her life until she felt a hand on her ankle. She looked down. Eliza was glaring at her, looking pretty steamed for some reason. But Mara was nothing but delighted to see her.

"'Liza! Come up here!" she enjoined.
"'Take my hand, we'll make it I swear!'"
she sang, holding out her hand to her friend.

"Get down! Get down! Get down this minute!" Eliza hissed, pulling at her ankle.

"What?
I can't hear you!" Mara shouted.

"We have a health inspector here tonight--this is a
restaurant
1
. You can't dance on the tables! They'll shut us down!"

"
What?"
Mara asked, laughing.

"I said,
getdownll"
Eliza screamed, "Oh my God, oh my God." She pulled Mara off the table, and Mara stumbled down, her skirt almost catching on the candle. She landed on Garrett's lap.

"What on earth were you thinking? I could get fired!" Eliza said angrily.

"What's wrong with you?" Mara demanded. It wasn't like Mara was doing anything different from what Lindsey Lohan had pulled the night before.

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"Nothing's wrong with me--you're the one who's being a total brat," Eliza spat. Mara was acting just like the spoiled celebrities who thought they owned the place.

"Excuse me?" Mara yelped. "What did you call me?"

"Hey, hey, cool down," Ryan said, standing up and holding his arms out between the two seething girls. "Mara, Eliza didn't mean it."

"Shut up, Ryan!" Mara glared. "Who asked you?" It was just like Ryan to be on Eliza's side. Why couldn't he be on her side just for once? He was always defending Eliza. Even last summer, when she'd first met Eliza and Eliza had been such a witch to her, Ryan had told her not to hold it against Eliza since her family was going through some "hard times." As if Mara didn't know what hard times were like!

Meanwhile, Eliza noticed that Garrett was leaning against his chair, smirking and enjoying the show. He was probably thinking that if he was lucky enough, Mara and Eliza would start rolling around the floor, pulling each other's hair out in a proper cat-fight. Eliza was disgusted by him. For the first time, she wondered what Mara saw in him besides all that money.

"Mara, calm down," Eliza said. "You're drunk."

That only made Mara more furious.
Hello,
who was a bigger lush than Eliza? The girl practically lived on vodka-cranberries. "Um, excuse me, I'm in a nightclub!" Mara yelled, drunk and belligerent. "You're just jealous because I'm in the VIP room and you just work here!"