Beach Lane - By Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,13

wet bangs away from her face. “I’m Anna Perry, sorry about all this,” she said grandly. She shook Mara’s and Jacqui’s hand with a limp shake, but when she turned to Eliza, her countenance mellowed. “Oh! Eliza, darling! You made it. Wonderful!” she said, giving Eliza her cheek to kiss. “How’s your mother? Do tell her I said hi. Did she get the books I sent?”

Eliza gritted her teeth and smiled. “Yes, she did, Anna.” Thinking she had been “helpful,” Anna had sent Eliza’s mother several books in The Idiots Guide to . . . series (Wine, Housekeeping, Getting a Job after Fifty, etc.). The attached card had read: Now that you don’t have a staff, here’s something I hope can help you out as you transition into your new life.

“I’m so glad you all made it. I was a little worried about the traffic. Anyway, as you know, my husband, Kevin, hired you. Oh, thank God, here he is now.”

The girls turned to see a hefty, bald man in an immaculately pressed Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts making his way toward them.

“Kevin, did you manage to remember to send over the bottle of Petrus as a hostess present? Yes? Okay, good. How much was it?”

He told her. She winced. Making her way into the good graces of the grand hostesses of the Hamptons was costing them an arm and a leg, but Anna was determined to chair the big ovarian cancer benefit next month.

“Kevin Perry,” he said. He shook each of their hands warmly, lingering just a hair too long with Jacqui’s handshake. Typical, thought Jacqui. But maybe this could come in handy.

“How’s your dad?” he asked Eliza.

“Same.” Eliza shrugged.

“Why don’t we sit over here?” Kevin said, motioning to the round patio table. Anna followed him, teetering on her heels and almost slipping on the wet tile. The girls took their seats. If any of them cared to look down, they might have noticed that each and every single screw in the teak veranda had been hand-turned to a precise ninety-degree angle, orthogonal to the direction of the boards. A simple but telling detail on the stringent perfectionism the Perrys expected from everything, and everyone, around them.

“We want to formally welcome you girls to the Hamptons,” Anna began crisply. “As you can imagine, we have a very busy night ahead of us. I thought we’d just have a little barbecue for the kids since it’s the Fourth of July. We usually do something more elaborate, but we’ve been invited to a party at the Perelmans’ later.” She paused so they could let that name sink in—they were hanging out with Ron Perelman! The Revlon mogul married to Ellen Barkin—the tippy top of the Hampton A-list! Unfortunately, Mara and Jacqui had never heard of him, and Eliza couldn’t care less about Ron Perelman—he didn’t have any kids her age.

“So tonight we’ll do just a simple affair—nothing too fancy.” Anna laughed. “Just a few burgers, maybe some hot dogs. Don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely.” Kevin nodded.

“There’s a grill out back, and we could even do some seared tuna, maybe? There’s an avocado salad in the fridge that might go nicely with that. Or is tuna not patriotic?” she asked with a little laugh.

“Tuna sounds good,” Eliza ventured.

“It’s Pacific ahi, just came off the plane in Hawaii,” Anna told her. “Delicious. Maybe with a little mirin sauce? Like we did last year?” Last Fourth of July the Perrys hosted a catered, white-glove party on their private beach to celebrate the holiday. Eliza remembered the succulent tuna steak served on silver platters.

“Sure.” Eliza shrugged. “Maybe with some white wine?”

“A perfect menu. Except, of course, the kids can’t have alcohol. And this will be a lot more intimate.” Anna smiled without showing any teeth. “Anyway, enough about the barbecue. It’s at seven since the kids aren’t allowed food after sunset.”

“Honey? Can we get back to business, please?” Kevin asked.

“Of course, of course,” Anna said.

“We just want to stress that this is a partnership. You’re part of the family now. Call us Anna and Kevin, please,” he said. “We see this as an opportunity for the kids to have a good time this summer. I think we’re all going to have a little fun, aren’t we?” he said, winking at Jacqui.

“But of course, we have some goals in mind,” Anna continued. “First off, there’s William. He’s been diagnosed with ADHD. He can’t keep still for a moment and keeps forgetting to take his meds. He must

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