快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

strolling　along　Catachungo　Road　in　Hampton　Bays；　wearing　a　Yale　baseball　cap　and　standing　
quite　close　to　a　mystery　girl　wearing　a　pink　tube　top　embellished　with　Old　Navy　logos。　I　must　
have　missed　their　Hamptons　store　opening。　V　settling　into　a　maroon　leather　barber　chair　at　an　
old…school　barbershop　on　the　Upper　West　Side；　ignoring　the　men…only　rule。　Maybe　someone　
should　tell　her　that　she？s　definitely　not　in　Brooklyn　anymore。　D　curled　up　on　a　bench　in　Union　
Square；　reading　a　thick　paperback　book　on　kundalini　yoga　while　smoking　a　cigarette。　Is　he　
planning　to　write　an　epic　poem　about　yoga　positions　for　lung　cancer　patients？　Who　wants　to　know？　
I　know　I　do。　

And　you　know　you　love　me。　

　gossip　girl　

townies　are　people　too　

Nate　guided　his　trusty　Schwinn　off　the　gravelly　road　and　onto　the　dirt　shoulder　in　front　of　the　
Oyster　Shack；　managing　to　avoid　a　replay　of　his　humiliating　wipeout　yesterday。　After　their　ice　
cream；　Tawny　had　taken　him　to　get　his　tire　fixed　at　Bob？s　Gas　？n？　Dogs　and　it　was　as　good　as　new。　
He　breathed　in　the　fresh　air　appreciatively。　He？d　only　smoked　a　third　of　a　joint　that　morning；　so　
his　head　was　clear。　

　That？s　a　first。　

Even　though　it　was　only　six　o？clock；　the　Oyster　Shack　was　crowded　with　kids　in　shorts　and　


halter　tops　eating　fries　and　drinking　canned　Bud。　Leaning　the　bike　on　the　kickstand；　Nate　ambled　
over　to　the　barnred　picnic　bench　where　Tawny　sat　smoking　a　Virginia　Slim；　a　devilish　little　smile　
on　her　full；　opalescent　peach？glossed　lips。　

Normally　Nate　would　have　felt　kind　of　stupid　meeting　a　girl　on　a　bike；　but　he　kind　of　enjoyed　the　
workout；　the　breeze　in　his　face　and　the　wind　in　his　hair。　Of　course；　he　could　enjoy　the　wind　in　his　
hair　behind　the　wheel　of　his　dad？s　powder　blue　1978　vintage　Aston　Martin　convertible　parked　in　
his　garage　only　twenty　minutes　away；　but　the　car　was　the　Captain？s　pride　and　joy；　and　Nate　
wasn？t　allowed　to　drive　it　alone；　much　less　into　one　of　the　Hamptons？　less　desirable　
neighborhoods；　like　Hampton　Bays。　

After　they？d　shared　an　innocent　ice　cream　cone　and　gotten　Nate？s　bike　fixed　yesterday；Tawny　
had　suggested　they　meet　up　for　dinner　today。　Nate　hardly　needed　convincing；　like　a　good　
ex…girlfriend；　Fate　always　pulled　through　for　him；　right　when　he　needed　her。　Just　when　his　
loneliness　had　started　to　get　him　down；　he？d　happened　to　meet　confident；　sexy　Tawny。　

？You　made　it；？　she　chirped；　stubbing　her　cigarette　out　on　the　table　and　tossing　the　butt　in　the　
grass　behind　her。　She　was　wearing　a　peach…colored　bikini　top　and　a　black　jersey　wrap…around　skirt　
that　showed　off　her　tanned；　round；　but　firm　thighs。　Her　hair　was　down；　grazing　her　freckled　
shoulders；　and　her　peachy　lips　matched　the　bikini　straps　that　were　falling　off　her　
shoulders。　？Without　falling。？　

？Yeah；　no　accidents　this　time。？　Nate　laughed；　shaking　his　head。　He　flipped　down　the　collar　of　the　
clean　but　faded　light　blue　Brooks　Brothers　shirt　he？d　changed　into　after　work　and　slipped　onto　the　
bench　across　from　her。　？So　I？d　say　the　day　is　going　pretty　well。？　

？How　was　work？？Tawny　asked　as　she　smeared　some　goopy　vanilla…scented　stuff　on　her　lips。　
Nate　could　smell　it　from　where　he　sat。　

？Just　the　usual：　backbreaking　manual　labor。？　He？d　spent　all　of　yesterday　and　today　nailing　new　
shingles　onto　Coach　Michaels？s　roof。　His　hands　were　riddled　with　calluses　and　his　arms　
ached。　？I？m　working　for　my　coach；　so　it？s　not　like　I　can　slack　off。　He？s　kind　of　an　asshole。　I　guess　
it？s　just　like　practice。？　

Only　without　the　stick。　And　the　ball。　And　the　rest　of　the　team。　

？You　must　really　like　him；　though；　to　want　to　work　for　him　all　summer；？Tawny　countered。　

Nate　shrugged；　rubbing　his　hand　over　his　stiff　neck。　？I　guess。？　No　need　to　tell　her　about　the　
stolen　Viagra　and　the　withheld　diploma；　right？

　Best　not。　

？Poor　boy；？　she　cooed。　？Maybe　you　need　a　massage。　I　can　practice　on　you。　I？m　totally　going　to　


be　an　LMT　after　I　graduate。？　

He　had　no　idea　what　she　was　talking　about。　LMT？

　Low…class　mega…slut　townie？　

？Alicensed　massage　therapist；　silly！　I　can？t　believe　you　didn？t　know　that。　Anyway；　I　talked　to　
these　people　at　this　spa　in　Sag　Harbor　and　they　might　let　me　do　an　actual　internship。　You　know；　
practicing　on　real　people？　I？m　so　psyched。？　She　leaned　in　across　the　table　and　began　massaging　
Nate？s　forearm；　using　both　of　her　hands　and　applying　a　surprising　amount　of　pressure；　her　long　
manicured　fingertips　scraping　his　skin　like　ice　scrapers　on　a　car　windshield。　？See？？　she　
asked。　？Doesn？t　that　feel　good？？　

It　did　feel　good；　sort　of；　but　Nate　was　much　more　interested　in　the　view：　Tawny　was　leaning　so　
far　forward　that　her　impressive　pear…shaped　boobs　were　totally　visible。　

？So；　um；　you？re　still　in　high　school；　then？？　Nate　mumbled；　remembering　that　it　was　his　turn　to　
say　something。　？I　just　graduated。？　Saying　that　felt　good。　It　made　him　feel　manly。

　Oh　boy。　

？I？m　graduating　next　year；？　she　explained；　moving　her　hands　from　his　forearm　to　his　chest；　
which　was　tight　from　hammering。　？I　can？t　wait。　I？m　so　sick　of　high　school。　I　figure　I？ll　get　my　
certification；　you　know；　get　a　house　in　the　Bays。　If　you？re　good；　you　can　make　such　awesome　cash　
from　the　summer　crowd　you　don？t　have　to　work　the　rest　of　the　year。　That？s　totally　my　plan：　make　
a　good　living　mooching　off　summer　people。？　She　laughed。　

？Cool。？　Nate　was　having　trouble　concentrating　on　what　Tawny　was　saying　because　her　boobs　
were　practically　in　his　lap。　He？d　tuned　her　out　so　pletely　she　sounded　kind　of　like　the　parents　
in　a　Peanuts　cartoon。Wah…wah…wah…wah…wah。　Her　lips　looked　so　full　and　peach…colored　and　shiny；　
and　she　smelled　like　vanilla。　

He　pitched　his　head　forward　and　lightly　kissed　her；　touching　her　cheeks　gently。　Her　mouth　tasted　
like　Diet　Coke　and　some　sort　of　artificial　but　totally　delicious　fruit。　

After　a　few　moments　she　giggled　and　pulled　away。　？We　can　do　that　all　night；　but　I　want　to　know　
about　your　plans　too；？　she　went　on；　sitting　back　down　and　taking　his　hand。　？You　can　tell　me　all　
about　it　over　dinner。？　

？Sure；　yeah。？　Nate　stood　and　patted　his　pocket　to　make　sure　he？d　remembered　to　bring　his　wallet。　
He　wondered　if　the　Oyster　Shack　accepted　platinum　American　Express。　He　licked　his　lips；　which　
tasted　sort　of　slick　and　fruity　now　themselves　and　would　probably　make　his　beer　taste　like　pi？a　
colada。　？Let？s　get　something　to　eat　and　I？ll　tell　you　my　whole　master　plan。？　


Nate　Archibald　has　a　master　plan？　

？Sounds　impressive。？　Tawny　giggled　again　as　she　stood　and　gathered　up　her　cigarettes；　her　
lighter；　and　her　gold　pleather　XOXO　clutch　with　buckles　all　over　it。　

？Well；　I？m　starting　Yale　in　a　couple　of　months？？　

？Yale？　Really？　Damn；　that？s　a　good　school。？　She　linked　her　arm　with　Nate？s。　？And　expensive。？　

Then　again；　education　is　like　a　Birkin　bag？how　can　you　put　a　price　on　such　things？　

b　is　for　betrothed　

Blair　Waldorf　crossed　her　legs　and　leaned　back　in　the　deep…brown　high…backed　leather　chair。　
Lifting　the　white　Spode　porcelain　teacup　to　her　lips；　she　took　a　dainty　sip　of　lukewarm　Earl　Grey　
tea　and　smiled　at　Jemima；　the　salesgirl　who　was　hovering　over　her。　？Miss　Waldorf；？　Jemima　
tittered；　handing　Blair　a　small　navy　blue　leather　portfolio。　？Whenever　you？re　ready。？　

Blair　opened　the　book；　inside　were　her　black　American　Express　card；　a　receipt；　and　a　pen；　which　
she　grabbed；　signing　the　dotted　line　without　glancing　at　it。　

？Lovely。　Now；　I？ve　had　your　parcels　packed　up　and　they？ll　be　off　to　Claridge？s　shortly。　Can　I　do　
anything　else　for　you？　Fetch　a　taxi；　perhaps？？　

？No；　thank　you。？　She　smiled　gracefully。　？I　think　I？ll　walk。？　

She　had　been　sitting　fortably　in　a　private　back　room　in　a　new　boutique　called　Kid　in　West　
London　for　an　hour；　keeping　Jemima；　a　pretty　brunette　with　terrible　teeth；　busy　fetching　every　
style　of　boot　they　stocked。　As　she　tried　on　the　twenty…plus　pairs　of　boots；　she？d　had　two　cups　of　
tea；　glanced　at　the　new　issue　of　FrenchVogue　；　and　made　a　telephone　call　to　Lord　Marcus。　
Voicemail。　She　wondered　if　he　was　working；　or　if　he　was　off　with　Camilla　somewhere；　buying　
new　croquet　mallets；　or　。。。

　Orwhat？　

Blair　didn？t　give　up　easily　and　she　was　determined　not　to　let　yesterday　get　her　down。　Maybe　
Marcus　and　Camilla　needed　to　get　their　cousinly　bonding　thing　out　of　the　way。　They？d　
undoubtedly　soon　tire　of　each　other？s　pany。　Besides；　Marcus　was　likely　to　forget　
Camilla？sname　when　he　caught　a　glimpse　of　Blair　in　her　new　knee…high　black　python…skin　boots　
and　her　new　black　lace　Gossard　corset　and　matching　boy　shorts；　which　she　planned　on　modeling　
for　him　that　very　night　in　between　courses　during　the　champagne…and…chocolate　room　service　


dinner　she？d　planned。　

Tucking　the　still…warm　credit　card　back　into　her　new　Smythson　billfold；　Blair　dropped　her　wallet　
inside　the　limited…edition　hand…painted　Goyard　bag　she？d　picked　up　the　day　before　and　walked　out　
of　the　store　and　onto　the　quiet　stretch　of　Press　Street。　She？d　been　to　London　only　once　with　her　
family；　when　she　was　twelve。　They？d　stayed　at　the　Langham　Hotel　just　off　Regent　Street；　visited　
Old　Ben　and　Buckingham　Palace；　seen　the　crown　jewels；　watched　the　changing　of　the　guard；　
drunk　tea；　and　eaten　scones。　As　far　as　she　could　remember；　she？d　spent　most　of　the　trip　listening　to　
Madonna　on　her　iPod。　But　that　was　London　as　atourist。　Now　that　shelived　here；　things　were　totally　
different。　

Everyone　said　London　was　gray；　overcast；　foggy；　and　depressing；　but　it　had　been　clear　and　sunny　
all　week。　The　trees　were　in　full　bloom；　there　were　lush　gardens　on　every　block；　and　every　building　
was　ornate　and　beautiful。　Everyone　also　said　that　the　English　were　standoffish；　with　bad　teeth　and　
thick　accents；　and　although　their　teeth　and　accentswere　distractions；　so　far　every　person　Blair　had　
spoken　to　had　been　unfailingly　polite。　

Of　course　they　had　been？she？d　only　talked　to　salespeople　who　worked　on　mission。　

Blair　checked　her　cell　again：　no　messages。　She　tossed　the　phone　back　into　her　bag。　She　
understood　that　a　gentleman　had　to　pay　extra　attention　to　his　guest？family　was　very　important　to　
the　English　upper　class？and　Camilla　was　lovely；　really。　She　really　was。　Even　if　she　did　look　like　a　
blond　cartoon　freakworm。　And　Blair　understood；　really　she　did。　But　she　was　ready　to　spice　things　
up　a　little；　and　the　more　Lord　Marcus　made　her　wait；　the　more　fidgety　and　eager　she　got。　Maybe　
the　whole　thing　was　just　a　ploy　to　turn　her　on　as　much　as　possible？

　Um；　maybe。　

Strolling　down　the　street　in　the　general　direction　of　her　hotel；　Blair　felt　like　a　cross　between　Julia　
Roberts　inPretty　Woman　？the　scene　where　she　goes　shopping　in　a　giant　black　wide…brimmed　hat　
and　has　all　the　Rodeo　Drive　salespeople　waiting　on　her　hand　and　foot？and　Audrey　Hepburn　inMy　
Fair　Lady　；　the　beautiful　Cockney　waif　who　rises　from　obscurity　on　the　streets　of　London　to　
bee　the　toast　of　the　town。　Except　Blair　was　neither　a　prostitute　nor　a　waif　from　the　gutter。　

　Details；　details。　

She　glanced　up　and　down　the　street；　but　every　store　window；　every　awning；　looked　familiar。　Had　
she　really　made　it　toall　the　stores　in　the　neighborhood？　Finding　great　clothes　in　London　was　easy；　
and　the　exchange　rate　made　it　even　better。　Blair　noticed　it　the　minute　she　arrived；　she　had　to　get　
cash　for　a　taxi　and　was　surprised　at　how　many　bright；　pretty　pastel…colored　bills　she　got　in　
exchange　for　her　boring　old　U。S。　dollars。　The　teller　at　the　bank　even　gave　her　a　handful　of　
change？including　an　oversize　penny　that　was　worth　two　cents；　not　just　one；　a　funny　
hexagon…shaped　coin；　and　a　bunch　of　thick；　heavy　coins　that　were　worth　a　whole　pound　each。　If　
the　English　used　coins　for　the　same　thing　Americans　used　bills　for；　clearly　this　was　a　place　to　find　


great　bargains。　Not　that　sheneeded　to　find　bargains。　

Blair　was　standing　outside　of　what　at　first　looked　like　just　another　West　London　brick　mansion：　a　
tall；　well…lit　town　house　with　big；　clean　windows　and　blooming　flower　boxes　underneath　them。　A　
lifetime　of　shopping　had　given　Blair　a　sixth　sense；　she　justknew　when　something　good　was　
lurking　nearby。　Through　the　street…level　windows　she　could　see　an　ornate　Chinese　vase　stuffed　full　
of　white　camellias