pulled up to Nate？s town house。
？Let me in！？ she yelled into the inter outside the Archibalds？ elegant wrought…iron…and…glass
front door as she swatted the buzzer over and over with her hand。
oh； the places you？ll go！
？Okay。？ Vanessa sighed； kneeling on the fifth…floor play…room carpet of the James…Morgan
family？s Park Avenue town house。 ？Let？s just do one final bag check and then we are out of here。
Ready？？
？Ready！？ Nils and Edgar screamed in unison。 They were twins and so they did pretty much
everything in unison； whether it was spilling cranberry juice on their mother？s antique ivory
silk？upholstered armchairs or screeching at the top of their lungs （probably to remind their mother
that they indeed existed）。 They were adorable in their own way； but that way was particularly hard
to see when you were responsible for wiping their various body parts and making sure they got
through the day with those body parts intact and unharmed。 And that was exactly the position in
which Vanessa found her…self。 She？d been fired from her first serious Hollywood gig as the
cinematographer onBreakfast at Fred？s； and in a moment of personal and financial desperation；
she？d signed on to be a nanny。
Also； she？d been drunk at the time。 Obviously。
It was almost too depressing to consider that two weeks ago she？d been in private rehearsals in a
major movie star？s suite in the Chelsea Hotel； doing what she loved best； and now she was in a
slightly Edwardian attic nursery in Carnegie Hill with a grape jelly stain on her Levi？s and two
snot…nosed boys somersaulting at her feet； while the movie？s stars were sunning themselves on the
beach； only a few miles away； in the Hamptons。 Not that she was much of a star…fucker； but still。
？Here we go。Tissues？？Vanessa asked。
？Yay！？ cried the twins； brandishing two Kleenex bundles。 They flung them into the
pink…and…green Lilly Pulitzer tote bag。
？Snack bags？？
？Yay！？ They whipped in two little plastic baggies filled with cheddar cheese goldfish crackers。
？Juice boxes？？
？Yay！？
？Don？t throw them！？ Vanessa immediately recalled the pink stains she？d tried so hard to scrub
out of the antique chairs。
？Throw what？？ Allison Morgan？also known asMs。 ？ strode purposefully up the narrow wooden
stairs and into the sun…drenched playroom； her snakeskin Jimmy Choo stiletto slingbacks clacking
on the blond parquet。
？Mommy！？ The boys abandoned their day…trip bag and threw themselves face…first into the ivory
boucl？ of her knee…length Chanel pencil skirt。
？Packing up for an outing？？ Ms。 Morgan asked in an ？ber…fake； high…pitched tone； backing away
from the twins。
Very perceptive； Mom。
？Thought we？d head to the Central Park Zoo today；？ Vanessa explained。
？Oh dear；？ clucked Allison。 ？Central Park？ You remember what happened last time。？
Of course Vanessa remembered： she？d never forget the sight of Dan in neon yellow kneepads and
Rollerblades； hand in hand with another girl。 A long…haired； spandex…clad； horrifically perky girl。
It had been so hilariously bizarre and so pletely heartbreaking。 Smoking a cigarette； scruffy
rock star hair matted； dirty T…shirt； long…to…the…point…of…ridiculous puke…colored cords？thatwas the
Dan Humphrey she knew。
And loved？
But of course that？s not what Vanessa？s militant new boss was referring to。 She meant that the
twins had ruined their clothes eating Fudgsicles and stayed up half the night yelling； ？Fudgie…poo！？
because of the sugar。
But Vanessa couldn？t stop thinking about Dan。 Things were kind of back to normal now。
Oralmost normal。 Maybe it was just from lack of sleep； or the fact that she was so relieved that
he？d ditched the blond yoga…toned health…nut bombshell and the old Dan was back； but damn； that
morning in the kitchen Vanessa had barely been able to resist kissing him。 He just looked so sweet；
gulping bad coffee from that lumpy mug； sleep crusties still stuck in his eyes。 It almost felt 。 。 。
natural； the way she？d always pictured their life together。 Except theyweren？t together。 They were
just 。。。friends。 And she probably didn？t want to do anything to ruin that； like bury her nose in his
warm； delicious； stale…cigarette…smelling hair。 No； she absolutely did not。
Liar。
？Listen； Vanessa； I？m glad I caught you。？ The sound of Allison？s raspy；
too…much…chardonnay…last…night voice snapped Vanessa back to earth。 ？Were heading to our place
in Amagansett in a few days。 The city？s just so unbearably hot； and the boys do so love the
beach。？
？The beach！？ screamed Nils and Edgar； in unison of course； taking the announcement as their
cue to race all over the playroom in a frenzy。
？You see how excited they are already；？ Ms。 Morgan observed。 ？Anyway； what do you say？
We？ve got an extra suite in the top wing of the house？very fortable； very private。 You？d spend
days with the boys and be free to go at； say； sixish； when they sit down to have their dinner。Your
pay would remain the same of course。？
Vanessa considered the situation： there she was； filling an offensively preppy tote bag with juice
and crackers while two little micromaniacs raced around her； yelping about the waves。 What did
she have to look forward to？ Another night staring at the crack in the ceiling of Jenny？s room；
which still smelled like paintbrush cleaner； wondering what Dan was doing on the other side of the
wall； fantasizing about the taste of his warm coffee…and…cigarette…breath kisses？
She hated the sun； didn？t even own a bathing suit； and basically despised everything about the
beach and the tan； half…naked； thoroughly annoying people who glommed to it。 But her life sucked
just enough right now that it actually sounded 。 。 。 not so bad。
？Amagansett；？ Vanessa pronounced slowly； like it was a disease； or a genital area； or a Far
Eastern country she？d never heard of before。 ？That sounds lovely。？
Oh； it is lovely。 But only under the right circumstances。
？
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ABC Amber LIT Converter v2。02
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Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events have been altered or abbreviated to
protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
I interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this late…breaking news：
my tipsters are the best。 You may remember a concerned reader writing in a few days ago about a
couple of look…alike impostors who？d infiltrated Hamptons society？ Turns out they weren？t
fooling： the gruesome twosome who bear a disturbing resemblance to and are a couple of Estonian
semibeauties who a certain designer has hired to be the faces of his newest venture； a
ready…to…wear line he？s launching this fall。 Looks like it？s going to be double （quadruple？） the
trouble。 And here I thought scientists had only figured out how to clone a sheep！ Estonia is so
technologically advanced。 But the real dirt is on these girls？ sor…did history。 Details are surfacing
as we speak！ My money？s on to freak out first； but before she does； let？s all take a second to
appreciate the possibilities？couldn？t having your own private look…alike e in mighty handy at
times？ I know I would have loved one this past May at exam time； when all this body wanted to
do was lounge in Sheep Meadow。 And what about avoiding boring family brunches at Le Cirque？
Or having an extra pair of hands to do some charity work in our names？ And isn？t more a little
merrier anyway？ Then again； more bodies = less space on those overcrowded Hamptons beaches。
Maybe ditching those doppelgangers isn？t such a bad idea。 （Did you really think that getting into
college meant I？d forget all my SAT words？）
If you？re merely nodding to my overcrowded beaches ment and haven？t actually
experienced it firsthand； consider this a public service announcement： no matter how many people
flock to the Hamptons in the summer； it？s the only place to see and be seen。 So fold up that
lap…top； grab a beach bag； and get your booty to the nearest private jet！ In a pinch； the Hampton
Jitney will do？it should only take an extra couple hours of miserable bumper…to…bumper traffic。
But trust me； it will be worth it when you？re digging your toes into the shimmering sand。 What
price glory！
Since you？d all be helpless without me； I？ll lay out exactly what you need to bring。 。 。 。
packing list for a hasty hamptons departure
？ Oversize Chanel sunglasses or old…school aviators。 Impostor sunglasses are a little like
impostor models： they look fine on first inspection； but close…up they just look bad。
？ Clarins SPF 30 with moisturizer。 That whole tanned…to…a…crisp thing went out with last year？s
espadrilles。
？ Kiehl？s SPF 15 lip balm with berry tint。 Just because you？re avoiding tan lines doesn？t mean
your lips should go naked。
？ A monogrammed boat bag with matching towel。 Sort of the designer equivalent of name tags
on your clothes for summer camp。 If you lose a towel； keep your fingers crossed that a hottie finds
it？and then finds you to return it。
？ Metromint mint…flavored water。 It？s cooling for a hot day in the sun