Juicy Secrets Page 7

  Liz knew she should just keep walking, but she turned anyway. “You seem to have a lot of information for other people, Cameron.”

  “I know!” Cameron said. “I’m like CNN—Cameron News Network! I should talk to Parker about putting me on TV. Oh wait, Parker’s a little busy with his own ventures right now, isn’t he, Liz?”

  Isabelle giggled.

  Well, there’s my answer right there, Liz thought. Everyone knows, and they’ve been laughing behind my back all this time!

  “But the real breaking story on the Cameron News Network has nothing to do with you and Parker,” Cameron said. “Have you noticed that Mimi isn’t in school today?”

  “Do I really care, Cameron?” Liz asked, desperate to get away.

  “Look at this.” Cameron thrust a newspaper at Liz. “Can you believe it?”

  Liz glanced down at the paper. It was Page Six of the New York Post. Liz skimmed the gossip column filled with boldfaced names until she reached a section carefully circled in pink ink:

  CROWNED AIRHEAD ROLLS AT LIBRARY

  It seems that Debutante of the Year Princess Mimi von Fallschirm has suffered a serious social setback. An anonymous call to the New York Public Library has alerted trustees to the fact that the new chair of the exclusive “Young Lions” benefit can barely write, let alone read the books on the library’s shelves. Sources at the NYPL reveal the board is seeking a more literate “Lioness” to head this season’s benefit. Hey, Mimi! How about getting hooked on phonics?

  “Can you believe it?” Cameron asked, taking back the paper and smiling down at it. “Poor, poor Mimi. How humiliating for her!”

  “She must be totally wrecked,” Isabelle agreed.

  “I feel terrible for her,” Cameron continued as girls began to gather around her and peer at the newspaper, which Cameron just happened to keep waving. “We must all be very supportive of her in her time of need.”

  “You are such a good friend,” Isabelle gushed. “You know, Cameron, you were totally the other contender for Deb of the Year. They should ask you to replace her as committee head.”

  “Isabelle, that’s sweet of you to say,” Cameron said in a voice that indicated her response had been carefully rehearsed. “But I’m very busy with my other charities. If the library asked me, I’d be honored, of course, but really, the kids need me.”

  “Which kids, Cameron?” Isabelle asked in the same artificial voice, designed to be overheard by the girls who were clustering around Cameron, excited by Mimi’s demise.

  “Why, the kids at the Warner Center of Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, of course. Kids without the chances that my brother, my sister, and I have had over the years. It is my obligation and my privilege to be able to help those amazing little children.”

  Oh, my God, Liz thought, nauseated by the display. Cameron will totally win the Oscar for her role as someone who cares.

  “But really,” Cameron said, “my heart is breaking for Mimi. She doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment in the press. I’m going to see her tonight to find out if there’s anything I can do. She is beside herself over this, and all the papers are trying to get a shot of her looking miserable. It’s so unfair.”

  “You’re, like, a saint, Cameron,” Isabelle said. “To stick by Mimi in the middle of all this.”

  “Isabelle,” Cameron said, smiling. “What are friends for?”

  With friends like Cam, who needs serial killers, Liz thought, walking away from the group of gossiping girls. The one good thing about the whole mess with Mimi was that it seemed to be taking up most of Cameron’s attention. Which meant she’d leave Liz and Parker alone. Maybe even long enough for Liz to figure out what to do.

  After school, Liz watched Heather walk slowly around the circle on Mindreader, her face contorted in an expression of agony. Poor Heather had faced the inevitable and didn’t protest the lessons anymore. At least not at home. Still, four lessons in and the little girl hadn’t shown any improvement—in technique or in attitude.

  “Shoulders back!” Ms. Winters shouted. “Keep your heels down!”

  Heather’s lip quivered, and Mindreader stared blankly ahead.

  “Good!” Ms. Winters said. “Now, we’re going to trot a bit. When we trot, we do something we call posting. When we post, we lift ourselves out of the saddle just a little bit as the horse moves. That way, we don’t bounce around in our seat. Ready?”

  Ms. Winters clicked her tongue, and Mindreader picked up the pace. Heather bounced wildly in the saddle, her voice breaking every time she smashed back down in the saddle.

  “L-IZ, I c-AN’T d-O th-IS any-MORE!” Heather wailed as Mindreader blithely trotted around the circle. “I WANT to STOP! NOW!”

  “Let’s take a break,” Ms. Winters said, exasperated. “She’ll have to get over these hurdles and adjust her attitude or she’ll never move on.”

  “Yes, Ms. Winters,” Liz said. “I’ll have a talk with her.”

  “If you think it will help,” Ms. Winters said. “Do what you can.”

  Heather dismounted and stumbled toward Liz, who was leaning against the wall of the office.

  “I want to go home,” Heather complained.

  “Come on, Heather,” Liz said. “I know you can do it!” She turned Heather to face the ring and put her arm around her. “Mindreader isn’t so bad. She really seems to be taking to you, and you look good on her.”

  “I do?” Heather said.

  “Sure you do! You just have to be a little less afraid. Do you think Mindreader wants you flopping around on her back like a sack of potatoes?”

  “I guess not,” Heather said.

  “I think if you stop being so afraid, you’ll be able to understand the instructions better. It’s normal to be scared of new things. But you’ll feel so much better if you face what you’re afraid of head-on and don’t give up.”

  Heather bit her lip as if she were considering what Liz was saying.

  Whaddya know, Liz thought. My pep talk might actually be working. She didn’t want to lose momentum now.

  “And you know what? Afterward, you might not even remember why you thought it was so scary in the first place.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “Ready to take another shot?”

  “Oh, all right,” Heather said.

  “Ready?” Ms. Winters called once Heather had climbed back up onto Mindreader.

  “Ready,” Heather said, her voice a bit more confident.

  I should listen to my own advice, Liz realized. I’m so afraid of talking to Parker that I’m making it even worse.

  Liz decided she would track Parker down tonight and have it out with him. I just hope that I mean enough to him, she thought, to get him to stop.

  Liz walked into JG Melon’s on Third Avenue. The hamburger shop and bar was a hangout for the boys at Dudley, and Parker and the swim team regularly had dinner there after practice on Thursdays.

  She really hated barging in, but she didn’t know what else to do. For the last four days she had phoned, e-mailed, and texted, and Parker hadn’t replied. He was back in elusive mode. But she knew she had to have this conversation tonight. She was not going to spend another horrible night tossing and turning, running every scenario she could think of and generally making herself insane.

  Liz walked in and looked around the wood-paneled room. She spotted Parker’s friends sitting around one of the red-checked-cloth covered tables in the back.

  “Hey, guys,” Liz said, stepping up to the table.

  “Hey, Liz,” said Jack Chasen. “You meeting some other lovelies from P-B?”

  “Actually, no,” Liz said. “I’m looking for Parker.”

  “Oh.” Jack frowned, then glanced at the other guys at the table.

  Liz suddenly felt super self-conscious. She started worrying that this had been a very bad idea.

  No, she told herself. This has to be done, and done now.

  “Parker was out of school today,” Jack said, looking around
the table. “We don’t think he’s even coming.”

  “What, and miss treating my favorite scoundrels to burgers?”

  Liz turned to see Parker standing behind her, gorgeous as ever. He looked surprised when he realized that it was Liz who was standing in front of him.

  “Hey Liz, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  Liz blushed, knowing the entire table was watching them. She stepped in closer. “I-I really need to talk to you,” she said quietly.

  “Guys, I’ll be right back.” He took Liz by the arm and led her through the restaurant back out onto Third Avenue.

  “Liz, what’s wrong? What’s so important that you came here tonight? I thought you understood about boys’ night.”

  Liz took a deep breath. “Parker,” she said in a low voice. “I know.”

  “About what?” Parker asked.

  “About the drugs,” Liz whispered. She didn’t want any of the passersby on the sidewalk to hear her.

  “So?” he said.

  Liz stepped back and stared up at him. “So, Parker,” she said. “You could get into trouble. You could go to jail.”

  “For getting high every once in a while?” he asked, amused. He snickered. “They’d have to arrest every kid in every private school in New York if that were a real problem.”

  “Parker,” Liz said firmly, “not every kid in every private school in New York is dealing drugs.”

  Parker’s expression went from amused to dumb-founded. “I don’t deal drugs,” he said. “Liz, poor kids deal drugs. I have more money than any kid in New York, and you, of all people, should know that.”

  “But the phone calls, the running around…” Liz faltered. This conversation was going very differently from how she had expected.

  “Damn, Liz, I’m popular, for christsakes.” Parker sighed. “I am not dealing drugs. I’m too rich and too smart for that, and you know it. I’m not a stoner—you know that, too.” He rubbed his face, then looked straight at her. “Honestly, Liz. You have to trust me on this one.” Parker gave Liz a quick peck on the cheek and went back into Melon’s.

  Liz stood in the fading light, staring at the spot where her boyfriend had just been.

  Either he’s telling the truth, Liz thought, or he’s in serious denial.

  And I’m left exactly where I was before: absolutely, totally confused.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  and it only gets better

  Saturday evening Adrienne gazed down at Manhattan, spread out below her like a carpet of lights.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Graydon asked, leaning across her to peer through the airplane’s curtained window. Then he swiveled in the plush, adjustable chair so that he could face her. “Just like you.”

  He pressed his lips against hers, and Adrienne’s heart fluttered. She pulled him even closer, letting his kiss sweep over her.

  When Graydon had called and suggested grabbing a bite out of town, he hadn’t been kidding. This time, though, she didn’t panic the way she had on their first date. Now she felt willing to go pretty much anywhere with Graydon. He had proved on every date that he could be trusted—that his sleazy, grabby ways were part of the past.

  A quick ride in the Rolls to the airport had put them on the Warners’ jet. Adrienne had been on the plane before, when she went with the family for nanny duty in Palm Beach; but she was not prepared for what it was like when it was just her, Graydon, and the endless stars that were just appearing.

  “Mmmmm,” Graydon murmured as he pulled away from her. “You sure are tasty.” He reached for the bottle of designer water that sat chilling on a mahogany side table. “Want something to drink?”

  “Thanks,” she said. She couldn’t stop looking at him as he poured the sparkling water into crystal flutes and handed her one. He is soooooooo good-looking, she thought.

  “To getting to know each other better and better,” Graydon said. He clinked her glass.

  Adrienne took a sip and gazed around the airplane cabin. The walls were covered in silk brocade, and in one corner there was a small piano just in case Emma might need to practice while airborne. The in-flight blankets were Hermès, and the snacks were catered by one of Jean-Georges’s many white-hot restaurants.

  “Whatcha thinking?” Graydon asked.

  Adrienne smiled. “Just thinking how weird it is to be here.”

  Graydon looked at her quizzically. “Should I be insulted?”

  “No,” Adrienne said with a laugh. “I don’t mean it’s weird to be with you—though, actually, come to think of it, if you had told me a month ago that I’d be on a date with you…”

  “Voluntarily,” Graydon said with a smirk.

  “Exactly,” Adrienne said, laughing, “and that I’d be enjoying myself?” She shrugged. “Let’s just say that this is not what I would have been predicting.”

  Graydon moved closer to her. “Do you mean that? That you’re enjoying yourself?”

  “Of course,” Adrienne said. It melted her a little every time he revealed just how vulnerable he could be. “Don’t I seem like I’m enjoying myself?”

  “I guess…” Graydon kissed her again, and she made sure he knew just how much fun she was having. They broke apart, and Graydon leaned back against his upholstered seat. “Okay. Now I believe that you’re enjoying yourself.”

  Adrienne giggled, a little embarrassed by how much she had led that make-out moment.

  Graydon looked at his watch. “It’s almost eight. We’re practically there.” He picked up the phone, which connected him to the cockpit. “Paul? Gray here. Is the car waiting? Cool. We’re landing now?”

  Adrienne looked out the window. There was water everywhere.

  “Uh, Graydon,” Adrienne said. “Where are we?”

  “That’s Baltimore,” Graydon replied. “I know a great little place for crab cakes there.”

  Baltimore. As in Maryland. A grin snaked across Adrienne’s face. I can’t believe that this is even my life!

  “Take a look at this!” Cameron Warner said Sunday morning. She tossed a copy of The New York Times on the kitchen table between Emma and Adrienne. “Blake Weinstein is a total genius!”

  Adrienne turned, bleary-eyed. The COW had called waaaay too early that morning begging, pleading, and basically ordering Adrienne to come in on a Sunday. Reluctantly, Adrienne agreed—it was easier than arguing, and Mrs. Warner promised to double the rate for the day. But Adrienne had eaten too many crab cakes and hadn’t gotten home until 1 A.M., and her parents had been furious!

  They’d have killed me if they knew I was out of the state! Adrienne thought. No, first they would have killed Graydon. Then they would have killed me.

  “What, Cam?” she replied.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Emma grumbled. She took a spoonful of cereal. That was all Adrienne had managed to come up with as breakfast. Tania had some family emergency, though Adrienne wondered if maybe the emergency was that Tania just had to get away from this crazy family.

  Cameron whacked Emma on the head with her purse.

  “Hey!” Emma yelped.

  “Okay, Cameron, I’ll play,” Adrienne said. She hoped once Cam got the attention she needed, she’d go away. “Who is Blake Weinstein, and why is he a genius?”

  “He is my new PR guy,” Cameron said. “When I was using Gabby Litsman, all I got was bad press. Well, duh, she was, like, thirty, and totally jealous of me. But Blake is fabulous!”

  Adrienne looked down at the newspaper. “WARNER SIBLINGS LEARN PHILANTHROPY EARLY,” the headline said. Below it was a photograph of Cameron and Graydon sitting on tiny chairs, reading a book aloud to a group of rapt and adorable children.

  Cameron dropped onto a chair. “Read it out loud, won’t you? I just love hearing the words of a true literary talent.”

  “‘Cameron Warner,’” Adrienne read aloud, “‘has followed the example of her stepmother Christine Olivia Warner, a known New York socialite and philanthropist. Since her stunning debut at the recent M
anhattan Cotillion, Miss Warner has spent more time at the library, and less time dancing on tabletops.’”

  “Fabulous, no?” Cameron said, rummaging in her purse. “Go on.”

  “‘ “I just think that I’ve grown out of my bad-girl days,” Warner says, her famously silver-blue eyes downcast. “The future of New York is in its kids, and I’m lucky to be able to help the library increase literacy.”’”

  Adrienne lowered the paper and stared at Cameron. “Are you really working with kids in a literacy program?”

  “Well, that day I was, sure,” Cameron said, checking her lip gloss in a gilded pocket mirror. “Blake set the whole thing up.”

  Emma looked up from her copy of Surreptitious Sonic Engineering magazine. “Cameron,” she asked, “can you even read?”

  “Shut up, ratbag.” Cameron snapped her compact shut. “I read Vogue cover to cover every month, and in September, that’s, like, a thousand pages.”

  Emma snorted.

  “Go on, it gets better,” Cameron instructed Adrienne.

  “‘With Graydon and Cameron Warner as the new co-chairs of the Young Lions’ Committee for Development, the city will certainly be a better place because of their efforts.’”

  “So Mimi’s out, and you and Graydon are in.” Adrienne put down the newspaper. “You got what you wanted.”

  “Don’t I always?” Cameron stood. “Well, I’ll leave you to…well, whatever it is that you do.” She picked up the newspaper and headed for the door. She stopped and turned.

  “You know, Adrienne, at first I wasn’t all that happy that I’d have to share the committee with Graydon,” she said.

  I’m not surprised, Adrienne thought. Sharing was definitely not high on the list of Cameron’s skills. “Oh?”

  “But thanks to you, he seems to have actually become a human. I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep it up. He’s so much easier to deal with now.” She left the room, leaving behind the faint scent of Joy.

  “What do you think it would take to make Cameron human?” Adrienne asked.