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"But why?" Jacqui asked, still shocked.

"Midas and I just scored the Elle cover. Gilles doesn't want his magazine left out of trumpeting the new girl. They've booked Versailles for the location, and we have to get there the day after the Vogue party. But no worries, they're sending a private jet to take us straight there."

"In ten days? That soon?"

Marcus nodded. "August 29."

"But that's the first day of orientation at NYU," Jacqui said, her face falling. "Couldn't we shoot it the weekend after?" she asked hopefully, even though she knew it was a stupid question.

Marcus scoffed. "You don't tell Gilles Bensimon when to schedule a shoot. He tells you and you go, no questions asked. Darling, it's all very simple." He grabbed both her hands and squeezed them, looking deep into her eyes. "You need to forget about NYU. Come to Paris and we'll stay at my flat; I've got plenty of space. Midas and I have big plans for our muse."

Give up NYU? She'd worked so hard to get in for so long. But the opportunity to be an international supermodel certainly didn't come along every day. She'd just met a bunch of pretty normal girls back there who led amazing, extraordinary lives. Traveling to the most beautiful places on the globe. Free designer clothes. Invitations to the best parties. Here was a chance to join the jet set. The beautiful people.

Marcus smiled at her, and the sun hit the blond highlights in his hair. She could picture it--photographer and muse, living in

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a charming flat on the Left Bank. It would be so romantic, like her favorite movie, Moulin Rouge, except she wasn't going to die of consumption anytime soon. All she had to do was turn her back on NYU.

She had never been a great student--she'd had to work so hard just to maintain a B average--whereas modeling came so easily to her, it was like breathing. Could this be the one thing she was good at? She thought of Eliza and her designs and Mara and her writing. Maybe this was her talent. Maybe this was what she was meant to do.

"Give it a think. You've got a week and a half. But listen to me. You won't want to miss spending autumn in gay Paree with me." Marcus took her in his arms and dipped her low.

Jacqui laughed as she felt the blood rush to her head. Paris. She'd come to the Hamptons from Sao Paulo three years ago to track down the boy she thought was the love of her life. She was older now and wiser. But what should stop her from following another guy--one who had invited her to go with him--to the most romantic city in the world?

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www.blogspot.com/hamptonsaupair1

it's 10 pm --do you know where your friends are?

Seriously, do you? Because I don't. J., E., and I are like three ships passing in the night. Make that a foggy night, without foghorns. Not that I think we're in any danger of crashing anytime soon, but it would be nice to know they're still out there. On the rare occasion that J. and I cross paths, she seems really out of it, like she's so busy thinking about something she's got no brain cells left for everyday cognition (did I mention she's a model? Jk!). E., on the other hand, is simply an invisible wonder. She's so busy at her store, working on her fall line, and generally being so on top of the world that she's got twenty pages in Vogue that she seems to have literally exited this earth. I guess I should just be happy that they're both happy. ... That's what friends are for. ...

Speaking of E.'s party, I'm totally torn up about missing it to go meet D.'s mom. I've always been the type to put hos before bras (tee-hee,), but this time I must confess I'm leaning toward the dinner. So without further ado, a list of pros and cons re ditching my friends to solve the matter:

pros

Dinner with Manhattan's top agent could make me a literary superstar.

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cons

Might no longer be alive to launch my literary career once E. finds out I'm missing her bash.

I think I'm willing to take my chances. . . .

Till next time,

HamptonsAuPair1

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YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN GLASS HOUSES. . . .

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" MARA ASKED WHEN SHE ARRIVED at their table in a cozy little restaurant not too far from the house. The three girls had been remiss in meeting up for their weekly catch-up meals, and all of them had made an effort to get together that evening. Summer was almost over, and it was criminal how little time the three of them had spent together. Mara had come straight from putting all five kids to bed and had found Jacqui and Eliza looking tense.

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