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"Anything more you have to say?" Eliza asked, her face now as red as her Chloe Gladys bag.
"Actually, yes," Jacqui said fiercely. If Eliza was going to tell her all the mistakes she was making in her life, well, then she deserved a little wake-up call herself. "You don't even take Jeremy seriously. You don't want a commitment; you're just wearing that
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rock on your finger for show." There. She'd said it. Well, somebody had to.
"You're one to talk about commitment!" Mara jumped in before Eliza, who'd turned completely ashen beside her, could respond. "Jac, you're the one who bailed on me all summer! I've had to do everything for those kids!" Mara wiped her hands on her napkin in dismay.
"See what I mean? You've flaked out on Mara," Eliza said in a triumphant tone, the color coming back to her face, although Jacqui's words had hit home. She knew Jacqui wasn't entirely wrong, but she didn't want to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it.
"Don't take her side--she's not even going to be here for your big Vogue party." Jacqui folded her arms over her chest. It was going to be a completely sober evening, apparently. The waitress was nowhere to be seen.
"You're missing the Vogue party?" Eliza asked, turning to Mara. She looked more hurt than angry.
Mara flushed. "I was going to tell you," she said, wringing her napkin. "I'm having dinner with David and his mother, Pinky Preston. She's a huge literary agent--you both probably have never heard of her, but she's really famous in publishing. I can't miss it." Mara shrugged. She hadn't wanted the information to come out this way, but Eliza couldn't really blame her, could she? Give up the biggest opportunity of her young career to go to a party?
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"So let me get this straight--you're missing my big night, and possibly Jacqui's last night in the country, for some lame snobby literary thing?" Eliza said icily.
"It's not lame," Mara snapped, now on the defensive.
"Whatever, Mara. All summer long, you don't want to come to any parties and you act like you're so above it all, with your pseudo-intellectual better-than-thou boyfriend," Eliza huffed. She was glad to have an excuse to change the subject, and for the opportunity to pass the feeling of guilt on to someone else. "And now you're missing out on the biggest night of our lives!"
"Of your life--you've already established that Jacqui's modeling career is going nowhere," Mara said coolly.
The waitress arrived, smiling as she pulled a pencil from behind her ear and a pad out o
f her belt. "What can I get you girls? Can I start you off with some drinks?"
"I'll have a mojito," Jacqui decided.
"A margarita for me," Mara added.
"Martini." Eliza nodded. "Dirty, with extra olives."
"Sure." The waitress kept smiling. "I just need to see some IDs."
For a moment, the three girls looked askance at each other. They never got carded. They were so used to drinking whatever they wanted at fashion parties, at the house, and at VIP rooms that they had taken the lax policy in the Hamptons for granted.
"You know what, forget it," Eliza said curtly, standing up. "I'm not hungry."
"Neither am I," Jacqui agreed, tossing her dark locks.
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"Fine," Mara said through gritted teeth. "I'll see you guys later."
The three of them left the stunned waitress behind and exited the restaurant without so much as a word. Eliza jumped in her convertible without offering the other two a ride, Jacqui hailed a cab, and Mara decided to walk. Was this what friends were for?
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ROMANCE ON THE ROCKS, WARNING: MAJOR ICEBERG AHEAD
ELIZA PULLED UP TO THE OLD GREYSON ESTATE THE
next afternoon, surprised to see how much work had been done on it since she'd last been there. Those late nights Jeremy had spent working on it had really paid off. The portico was refurbished, the house shone with a new coat of paint, and the crumbling columns had been replaced with new ones. A crew of construction workers milled around the grounds, and there was sawdust all over from the new fence being built.
