Rich Girls Page 7

  “I need permission to do something really cool,” Liz began.

  “When you say that, I hear, ‘I need permission to do something really expensive,’” Ms. Braun said, smiling.

  “No, it won’t cost you anything!” Liz said. “Dr. Markham-Collins has asked me to go with her, David, and Heather to Aspen over Christmas break.”

  “Oh, Liz, honey, I don’t know,” Ms. Braun replied. “I know how important your job is to you, and even I have to admit that Aspen sounds great, but for Christmas?”

  Liz, knowing that being away for the holiday would bother her mom, had already come up with a plan. “What if I go for only the first week? That way, I’ll help Dr. Markham-Collins and still get back in time to spend Christmas and New Year’s with you.”

  Her mother’s frown softened, just a little. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t Dr. Markham-Collins really take someone more…grown up?”

  “I can handle it!” Liz exclaimed.

  She watched as her mother silently spooned chicken and broccoli onto her plate. She knew her mom was thinking, and she knew from experience that pressuring her was definitely not the way to go. Liz could always wheedle things out of her dad, but he moved with his new wife to New Jersey last year. Now it was just Liz and her mom.

  She ate her food slowly—and waited.

  “Liz,” her mother said finally, “I understand that you’re growing up, and you want to take advantage of the opportunities offered you…”

  Liz could feel her mother wavering. If I can just keep quiet, she’ll let me go, Liz thought.

  “But I just have one question,” her mom said.

  “Sure,” Liz said. “What?”

  “Do the Devlins have a place in Aspen?” She took a sip of her tea and looked at Liz over the lip of her cup.

  Busted, Liz thought. There’s no way she’ll let me go.

  “Yes,” Liz replied. “They do.” She sighed in frustration and leaned back in her chair, defeated.

  Ms. Braun smiled. “Liz, I didn’t say you couldn’t go. I just want you to know that I’m not stupid. I was a teenager once, too.” She put down her teacup.

  “But, Liz, I want you to remember that you have been asked to Aspen to work. Taking care of children in an environment where there is a lot of physical activity is a big responsibility. You have to be on your toes when little kids ski or skate or even walk down a crowded street in a town you don’t know as well as you know New York.”

  Liz perked up. This was beginning to sound promising.

  “You can go, Liz, as long as Dr. Markham-Collins agrees to get you home for Christmas. But remember—you are there to take care of Heather and David, not to have a romantic vacation with Parker. I want you to promise me that you will act responsibly.”

  Liz shrieked and ran around the table, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck. “Thank you!” she said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the coolest!”

  “You got that right!” Her mom laughed.

  I’ve got to tell Adrienne! Liz grabbed her phone and texted:

  GOING 2 ASPEN

  Adrienne texted back:

  SNOWED YR MOM?

  Liz smiled and texted:

  AVALANCHE!

  The next day at school, Liz thought she’d burst by lunchtime when she could finally tell Belinda and Jane her fantastic news.

  Liz plunked down her tray and declared: “Guess who is going to Aspen over Christmas break?”

  Jane looked up at her. “The coven?” she asked, nodding toward Isabelle, Mimi, and Cameron, who sat at the next table, poring over a Town and Country magazine.

  “No,” Liz declared, taking her seat as if she were a queen. “I am.”

  Belinda’s mouth dropped open. “You are so lucky! I have four generations of relatives descending for the holidays.”

  “Your media magnate taking you?” Jane asked with a grin.

  “No!” Liz smiled and tossed a French fry at her friend. Jane ducked and laughed. “I’m going to take care of David and Heather.”

  “I hear Grumpus is a real klutz on the slopes,” Jane teased. “You’ll need to keep an especially close eye on him.”

  “You should be on Comedy Central,” Liz said.

  “You’re going to Aspen for break?” Isabelle called from the next table.

  “Yes,” Liz answered, not really wanting to get into it with the Terrible Trio.

  “When will you be there?” Cameron asked.

  “Just the first week,” she said. “I’ll be home for Christmas.”

  “Oh, you’ll miss the Red and White Ball,” Mimi said.

  “What’s the Red and White Ball?” Liz asked.

  “The most exclusive event in Aspen,” Mimi explained. “It’s always the Saturday after Christmas.”

  “It’s a blast—everyone wears red and white. It is so Santa,” Cameron said.

  “Don’t you think Parker will look totally adorable in red and white?” Isabelle said.

  “I have an idea,” Cameron told Isabelle. “You should wear all red, and he should wear all white. Much more chic.”

  “Parker?” Liz blinked. “Parker Devlin?”

  Isabelle smiled at Liz. “Of course. He’s my date. Didn’t he tell you?”

  Liz smiled back. “Right. Of course he is.”

  And of course I’m a complete idiot.

  CHAPTER NINE

  viva Valentino!

  After school, Liz walked quickly through Central Park, her mind whirling.

  I never should have assumed that Parker would be going out only with me, she thought. I knew his reputation before we started seeing each other. Besides, that whole crowd mixes and matches with the abandon of a Vogue stylist on an unlimited budget.

  She shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her parka and shivered, as much from frustration as from the cold December air.

  All those calls during the after-party the night of the movie premiere, she thought. They must have been from Isabelle!

  Liz walked across the back of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, along the paths that led to Cleopatra’s Needle, an Egyptian obelisk dropped onto a green hill in Central Park. Whenever she passed it, it reminded her of their incredible first date at the Metropolitan when Parker kissed her in front of the Egyptian Temple of Dendur.

  Did he kiss Isabelle there too? she wondered miserably. He probably did it with her, she realized.

  She looked up to see Parker loping across the grass, already smiling at her.

  “Hey, there,” he greeted her, throwing his arms around her shoulders and giving her a playful peck on the ear.

  Liz couldn’t kiss him back—she was just too confused. He stepped away from her. “You okay?” he asked, puzzled. “You look seriously serious!”

  I can’t fake it, Liz realized. I have to tell him that I know.

  “I just want you to know that, well, I’m going to be in Aspen during vacation, and I was telling some friends—” she began.

  Parker’s face brightened. “That totally rocks! Where are you staying?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer—he just began pacing and tossing out ideas rapid-fire. “It will be so excellent! We can go skiing, and I’ll take you to the Caribou Club—that place is killer. You and your mom will want to shop—most women do there.”

  “I’m not going with my mom, Parker,” Liz explained. “I’m going to be there to take care of David and Heather.”

  “Even better,” Parker said, grinning. “If you’re there with the doc, you’ll be able to slip out at night and no one will even know. Doesn’t that sound good?” he asked, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her into him. “When are you leaving?” he asked.

  “This weekend, and I’ll be there until the Sunday before Christmas,” she said.

  “That’s plenty of time for fun,” Parker said.

  “I-I hear there’s even more fun after I leave,” Liz said, nervous about where the conversation was about to go.

  Parker looked confus
ed. “What do you mean?”

  “I hear there’s a big dance on Saturday night after Christmas,” Liz said.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “It’s no big deal.”

  “But you’re going with Isabelle, right?” The second she said it, Liz wanted the take the words back. Had she pushed too far? Was she being too possessive?

  “Liz,” he said, taking her hand. “It doesn’t mean anything. She’s my dad’s business partner’s daughter. It’s a family obligation. And the Red and White Ball is a drag. Even if I had known you were going to be there and asked you, you wouldn’t want to go.” He brushed his hand against her cheek and smiled at her encouragingly. “It’s not your kind of thing, Liz. That’s one of the reasons I like you so much. You’re so down-to-earth. You’re not caught up in the whole society thing….”

  Yeah, Liz thought. I’m so non-society, you thought you could take someone else to that dance and I would never hear about it.

  “Liz,” he said, beginning to sound exasperated. “You aren’t even going to be there for the ball. I’m expected to go, and I’m expected to go with someone. That’s it.”

  Liz felt his strong arms around her. He began to kiss her neck, sending tingles through her entire body. “Okay,” she said. “You’re very persuasive.”

  “I know,” Parker said, grinning. “I’m irresistible.”

  Who are all these people? Adrienne thought, forcing her way up Madison Avenue on Saturday morning.

  The streets were jammed with what seemed like thousands of holiday shoppers, all determined to wedge themselves between her and the luxurious Valentino shop.

  The day of the tea had arrived, and Adrienne had already been sent on several last-minute errands. Mrs. Warner had insisted Adrienne meet up with them at Valentino that morning—probably to get further instructions.

  The moment Adrienne ran into the shop, a harried saleswoman rushed at her.

  “The Warners are in the back,” she said, helping Adrienne out of her coat quickly. “Kevyn is losing his mind. It is an absolute disaster.”

  Uh-oh, Adrienne thought. What can be going on back there?

  Adrienne braced herself and entered the room where Cameron was having a last-minute fitting. Mrs. Warner stood in a corner on her cell phone, shouting instructions to the caterer back at the apartment. Emma sat on a small chair in the corner reading Advanced SAT Vocabulary. Cameron stood on a platform in the middle of the room surrounded by women plucking and pinning her dress.

  She looked extraordinary. The cream cashmere dress was carefully fitted to her body, and stopped at a decorous mid-calf length. The tiniest pink ribbon trimmed the bateau neckline, and a cropped cashmere jacket trimmed in pink ribbon covered her shoulders.

  “I told you I look like a nun,” Cameron said, disgusted. “Can’t you take this dress up and show more leg?”

  “Valentino wouldn’t hear of it,” Kevyn said firmly. “It would ruin the proportions of the dress. This is a debutante tea gown, not a cocktail dress.”

  “He’s right, Cameron,” Mrs. Warner said, interrupting herself on the phone. “It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

  “Look,” Cameron said, exasperated, “I know fashion. I have been in, like, three fashion shows. This dress is too long.”

  Kevyn folded his arms and stared Cameron down. “Miss Warner,” he said evenly, “I wouldn’t want to question your expertise. But I will not alter this dress.”

  Mrs. Warner flipped her phone shut. “Cameron!” she scolded. “This conversation is OVER. Put on your street clothes and let these people finish the alterations. You have David Barrett coming to the house in an hour to blow out your hair, and the makeup artist Vogue recommended will be there right after. The tea is THIS AFTERNOON!”

  Adrienne thought she could actually see Mrs. Warner’s veins popping out despite the Botox.

  “I still hate this dress,” Cameron said, taking off the luxurious jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “And those people can wait if we run late.”

  She unzipped the dress and stepped out of it, dropping it onto the platform. She crossed to the rack wearing only her panties and bra. The women gasped as Cameron’s pointy-toed shoe crushed the delicate ribbon on the bodice.

  “You’ll press that for me, won’t you, darling?” Cameron said, smiling at Kevyn.

  “Of course, Miss Warner,” he said, his voice taut and his smile grim.

  “Enough, Cameron. We’re going,” Mrs. Warner ordered as Cameron slipped her regular dress on over her head. “Emma, you’ll come with us.”

  Emma stood and, never taking her eyes off her book, left the fitting room to wait in the store.

  Mrs. Warner turned to Adrienne. “Adriana. You wait here for them to finish the alterations.”

  Cameron tossed her hair and picked up her hot-pink Louis Vuitton purse. “Thanks, Adrienne. Now I can meet Brian for a quick lunch. Ciao!” She left the fitting room.

  “You will NOT meet that boy for lunch! You have a million things to do!” Mrs. Warner said, charging out after Cameron.

  “Yes, I will!” Cameron shouted.

  “The tea is in just a few hours!” Mrs. Warner yelled back. They continued their argument out the doors and onto Madison Avenue, Emma ordering them to be quiet so she could memorize her words.

  “Ladies,” Kevyn announced to the seamstresses, “you all deserve a break. Finish the alterations for Miss Warpath when you get back.”

  The women left the room, and Kevyn sat down, furious. “What is her damage?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Adrienne admitted. Her lip trembled.

  “Are you okay, doll?” Kevyn asked, picking up a bottle of Gerolsteiner water from the tray that had been brought in for Cameron and her mother. He poured a glass and handed it to Adrienne.

  “The way I feel right now, I can’t even drink this water, let alone pronounce it,” Adrienne said, handing it back to him.

  “Rejecting the hottest German water?” He smiled at her. “It MUST be bad.”

  “Miss Warpath, as you call her, stole my boyfriend, Kevyn. She’s going to meet him for lunch, and then throw him in my face while I serve drinks to her friends this afternoon at her debutante tea, which,” she added, “I busted my butt organizing.”

  “Utmost sympathy, darling,” he said, clucking. “Let’s trade this water in for a glass of wine instead.”

  Adrienne smiled. “Uh, Kevyn,” she said as he crossed to a cobalt wall unit that turned out to be a refrigerator and pulled out a bottle, “I’m in high school.”

  “Ugh, all the more reason,” Kevyn said, pouring a glass of white wine. “Adolescence is the worst. Trust me, I know.” He handed her the glass and sat on a settee across from her. “Vent all to Kevyn.”

  “It just seems that there is no way for me to get him back,” Adrienne confessed, sitting on one of the small chairs. “Cam is gorgeous. Cam is rich.” She took a sip of the chilled pinot grigio. “Cam’s got the makeup artists, the hairdresser, and”—she looked around the fitting room—“and the VALENTINO, for God’s sake.”

  “Miss Cameron doesn’t have all the Valentino,” Kevyn said, smiling. “Wait here.”

  Adrienne took another sip of the wine while she wondered what Kevyn was up to. He returned a moment later with a large garment bag.

  “This,” he said, “is for you. To borrow,” he added with a grin. “I really need it back tomorrow.”

  Adrienne carefully unzipped the bag and gasped. Inside was an incredible red crepe dress with a short tapered skirt and exquisite seaming.

  “Oh, my God,” Adrienne said. “That’s gorgeous.”

  “It will look great on you, and you’ll really love this part.” He glanced around as if he was afraid he’d be over-heard. “This is the dress Cameron really wanted. We got it in right before the fitting.”

  “Why didn’t she take it?” Adrienne asked.

  “Because she was rude one too many times to my best fitter. Besides, her mother would have decreed it too short.�
�� He removed the dress from the garment bag.

  “It is unbelievably stunning,” Adrienne said, almost afraid to touch the delicate fabric.

  “Wear it today and you’ll really piss her off,” Kevyn said. “And if you can’t get the boyfriend back in that dress, well, you didn’t want him in the first place. Just call me your fairy godmother.”

  “Wow, Kevyn, thanks!” Adrienne said.

  “Adrienne,” Kevyn added, “I’m serious. I know I’m a dizzy queen selling Valentino, but I know a lot about people from this job. A man doesn’t fall in love with dresses and jewelry—he falls in love with the woman in them. If Cameron Warner is nothing but a glamorous doll to your boyfriend, he’ll get tired of her real fast. Lord knows I have.” He smiled. “Now hop into that dress—you have some serious jealousy and regret to cause!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cameron’s latest boy toy

  When the elevator doors opened onto the Warners’ kitchen, Adrienne realized the enormity of the event that was about to take place.

  Florists were delivering dozens of bouquets; huge hot-water pots and chafing dishes covered every available surface; caterers and waiters were scurrying back and forth setting things up.

  Tania came into the kitchen and beamed, displaying her gold tooth. “Miss Adrienne, you looking for a million dollars!”

  “Thanks, Tania,” Adrienne said. Adrienne caught a glimpse of herself in an ornate gilded hallway mirror. Kevyn was right: Brian won’t be able to resist me looking like this! The draping emphasized every curve, and the red color made her eyes sparkle.

  Debi appeared in a cloud of perfume. “Is the enti-yah staff assembled?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Tania said.

  “Aren’t you all just PRECIOUS with a capital ‘P’?” Debi said, moving toward the head waiter. “Nah, ah want yuh ta know that every GAW-jus, drippy, tasty, yummy treat you have, y’all jes’ bring ’em out and serve ’um up, y’hear me?” She smiled for one moment, then dropped the expression and her accent completely. “But you serve them to the other girls. Cameron Warner is to receive nothing. Keep the food away from her, and make sure that every other girl has a handfull of things to eat and drink at every minute of the party—no napkins. I want those girls with mouths full and sticky fingers. You got me?” She glared threateningly at the crowd.