Beach Lane - By Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,11
sunglasses pulled up on their heads. Mara stood somewhat at a loss, wondering if she should follow them, already feeling completely out of place.
Ryan pulled her battered nylon suitcase from the trunk and handed it to a white-jacketed butler. “Don’t let Eliza bother you too much,” he said. “She can be a pain, but she’s actually really nice. She’s just going through a lot right now.”
Mara couldn’t fathom how “really nice” could ever apply to the Attitude Queen, but she wanted to be agreeable. If only she wouldn’t blush every time he looked at her.
A chubby ten-year-old girl with unruly curls ran out of the side door, wearing a bright pink bathing suit, goggles, and flippers. “You’re IT!” she said, barreling into Ryan.
“Madison Avenue!” he said, lifting her up and spinning her around.
“Stop! Stop!” She giggled. “Put me down!!”
Ryan let her go and said, “Hey, say hi to Mara. Mara, my little sister Madison.”
Madison scooted inside the front door, Ryan and Mara following.
“By the way,” Ryan said, holding the door open. “I thought that limo was a dumb car, too.”
Mara couldn’t stop smiling even after he had left.
This is what “Let’s burn the money to keep warm” looks like
“HI! WELCOME TO CREEK HEAD MANOR!” A FROWSY, overweight woman in a pink sweatshirt with a Nokia hanging on a chain around her neck beamed at them as they entered the house. “I’m Laurie, Anna’s personal assistant. Anna’s not back from her Reiki session yet, so she asked me to welcome you and give you a tour of the house.” She clucked at the sight of their footwear. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to ask everyone to take off their shoes before entering. The zebrawood hasn’t been oiled yet.” Laurie proudly explained that Anna had flown in an artisan from South America to work with I. J. Peiser and Sons on the floor design. According to Laurie, they did everyone’s floors, though it occurred to Mara that “everyone” must not be anything like anyone Mara knew.
Eliza grumbled at the inconvenience, Jacqui laughed, and Mara felt embarrassed to take off her cowboy boots—one of her gray socks had a huge hole in the toe. Laurie kept up the chatter as they tiptoed around the edges of the vast living room, which was dominated by an enormous floor-to-ceiling picture window that stretched from one end of the house to the other. “I love this feature!” she gushed as she pressed a button on the wall and automated curtains revealed an uninterrupted view of the Atlantic coast. The waves lapped gracefully by the shore, and seagulls waddled across the sand.
“We’ve been putting out poisoned bread to keep them off, but it’s not working.” Laurie sighed. “Shoo! Shoo!”
Mara’s eyes widened at the view—it was amazing. Eliza picked at her cuticles—
she’d been a guest at the house before, and besides, the Thompsons’ old place had almost the same view (maybe even better since their next-door neighbors, a prominent Hollywood actor and his starlet wife, had liked to sunbathe nude on their terrace). Jacqui yawned—the sight didn’t hold a candle to the golden beaches of Angra dos Reis in Costa Verde. No one braved a comment on the seagullicide program.
The house smelled sweet but slightly suffocating. Immense bouquets of freshly cut flowers were placed everywhere in carefully considered arrangements. The sculpted glass coffee table was decorated by a spray of fat, blooming, Georgia-peach-colored roses in a crystal decanter, matching sideboards spilled over with hollyhocks, irises, and calla lilies, and an enormous Ming vase in the foyer held a magnificent cluster of six-foot-tall acid yellow sunflowers.
Laurie’s cell phone rang with a piercing shrill. “Laurie here! Anna, hi! Yes, they’ve made it! No, I didn’t see an invitation from Calvin Klein yet. Oh, okay. I’ll try.” She shut the phone off and told the au pairs, “Anna says hi!”
She led them to the kitchen, an airy, light-filled rustic wood room with shiny marble countertops and no visible appliances. Laurie breathlessly explained that the cabinets were cut from original floorboards salvaged from an eighteenth-century French chateau. To keep the serenity of the line, the refrigerator, freezer, and dishwasher had been recessed and built into the antique cabinets. Oh. My. God. Mara kept having to remind herself to close her gaping mouth.
The kitchen led to a formal dining room that could easily seat thirty. An immense baroque chandelier hung from the double-height space. Next to it was a second dining room for everyday meals and a breakfast room with a “cozy”