Edwardian bedroom？ Why did he want to pal around with his nag of a cousin？ Why wasn？t heat
least playing footsie with her beneath the table？
She squinted at Marcus； looking for a sign； some hint of his true feelings。 A wide grin spread
across his clean…shaven face and his green eyes sparkled with merriment。 He seemed pletely
oblivious。 Just having the time of his life in the warm summer sun。 Blair sighed。 Maybe she was
being nasty and judgmental。 She glanced at Camilla。 Maybe she？d disappear soon； and she and
Marcus could have sex beneath a hare…shaped conifer。
？The time of my life；？ Blair snapped。
？I daresay I？mstarved ；？ Lord Marcus exclaimed； rolling up the sleeves on his white linen
button…down before taking a seat at the glass…topped table。 He reached for a tiny silver platter that
was laden with delicate cucumber sandwiches and popped a triangle in his mouth。
？You？re always hungry when I？m around；？ Camilla giggled。 She poked him in the belly and
sipped her martini delicately。
？Remember that time I came to visit you at Yale and we went to that gorgeous little town in
Vermont for a weekend ski？？ Camilla turned to Blair。 ？We were on the slopes all day and all I
wanted was a nice soak in the tub。 When I got out； Marcus had ordered
everything？everything！？off the room service menu so we could eat by the fire。？
Blair was overe with the urge to grab her mallet and smack Camilla over the head。 She
looked at Marcus； who was blushing。 Maybe he and Camilla were the kind of cousins who liked to
play doctor。 Even after they were too old to play。 Didn？t Horseface realizeshe was Marcus？s
girlfriend？
？Oh； Cam； I？m sure Blair doesn？t want to hear about our ski weekend。？ Marcus stood up；
waving the empty sandwich plate at the butler。
Blair stood up； too。 ？Anyone up for another game； set？ whatever it？s fucking called？ Maybe I
can take a turn this time。？
？Oh； I think I？m all worn out。 I ought to have warned you；？ Marcus apologized。 ？Camilla is an
absolute whiz at games。？
Well； fine then。 ？Speaking of whiz；？ Blair muttered under her breath。 ？I need the loo。？ She？d
picked up quite a few Britishisms in the last couple of days。
？Oh my。？Camilla blushed。？There？s that Yank wit。？
And there？s that Brit bitchiness。
？Just inside；？ Lord Marcus instructed。 ？Through the library and on your left。？
？I？ll find it；？ huffed Blair； stumbling a little as she started toward the house。 The gin had gone
straight to her head。 ？Don？t get up。？
She clopped along the flagstone path； smoothing the wrinkles in the white Thomas Pink
shirtdress she？d changed into especially for their afternoon of lawn games。 The house was
surprisingly cluttered and smelled of rotting flowers。 Of course the furniture was beautiful and the
rugs especially so？apparently Lady Rhodes sent a buyer to Marrakech every other year to add to
her collection。 But a stained…glass window in the library made the house feel oddly churchlike；
and Blair felt strange wandering around alone； knowing Lady Rhodes was upstairs somewhere
nursing a hangover。
Alone in the powder room； she lit another Silk Cut； her new favorite English cigarette； and
studied her reflection in the gilt…framed mirror as she exhaled。 She narrowed her eyes and tucked
in her chin； practicing the sexy look she？d fix on her boyfriend。 One more drink and she？d suggest
heading back to Claridge？s for a late…afternoon romp。 Lawn games were all well and good； but she
was in the mood for somereal exercise。 She smoked the entire cigarette and pocketed a piece of
the Beaton…Rhodes French…milled shell…shaped soap just because。
Old habits never die。
Outside； a new batch of martinis had been mixed； and Lord Marcus offered a fresh glass to Blair
as she took her seat。
？She？ll want an ashtray；？ Camilla quipped； nervously eyeing the inch of ash at the tip of Blair？s
cigarette。
？I？ll use the lawn； thanks；？ Blair replied flatly； taking a swig from her paper…thin Riedel glass；
spilling only a little on the table in the process。
？Darling； wait；？ Lord Marcus jovially reprimanded her。 ？We？re having a toast。 We were waiting
for you。？
？What？s the occasion？？ asked Blair； holding in a burp。
？While you were inside； Camilla gave me the most wonderful news。？
She？s going to Switzerland to get her enormous nose fixed？ She？s finally ing out of the
closet as a big fat dyke？ She？s decided to bee a nun？
？She？s extending her stay。 She？ll be with us all summer long。 Isn？t that glorious？？ Lord Marcus
clinked his glass against hers。
Camilla took a dainty sip of her drink and put her hand protectively over Blair？s。
？We？ll be such good friends； we？ll be almost like sisters；？ she promised； this time sounding more
like the evil witchy stepmother who wants to eat Hansel and Gretel than one of the three little
pigs。
Blair smiled tightly and drained her glass quickly before turning back to Camilla。 ？I always
wanted anolder sister。？
Marcus wrapped his squash…toned arms around the two of them and squeezed them into a group
hug。 ？I knew you two would get along。？
He kissed them each on the cheek； and Blair closed her eyes； trying to pretend Camilla wasn？t
there。
Thank goodness she？s always had a vivid imagination。
a star is born （sort of）
Serena？s bright orange Herm？s rubber flip…flops thwacked noisily against the
black…and…white…checked marble floor of the Chelsea Hotel hallway as she made her way to room
609； where Ken Mogul was putting up her costar； Thaddeus Smith。 The Chelsea was probably the
most famous hotel in New York City。 Home to iconic artists like Andy Warhol and rock stars like
Janis Joplin； it had once suffered a terrible fire and all its famous residents had been forced out。
Now it was mostly a tourist trap； but it still had a historic sixties allure； and its basement housed a
dark； trendy bar； aptly named Serena。
Serena couldn？t understand why Thaddeus got to stay in a hotel and she had to live in a shabby
apartment with no A/C。 She？d been sitting alone； too hot to move； since Jason left； when Ken had
called and told her to e down for an impromptu rehearsal with Thad。 Serena took a deep
breath； fiddled nervously with the zippers on her gunmetal gray Balenciaga motor…cycle bag； and
knocked on the chipped door to room 609。
？Hi； you！？ she squealed happily when Vanessa Abrams opened the door。 It had only been a little
over two weeks since graduation； but it felt like this was their twentieth reunion or something。
Vanessa was wearing a black silk jersey wrap dress and the coolest silver flat sandals Serena had
ever seen。 ？You look amazing！？
Vanessa opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Ken。 ？Serena；？ he called slowly。 He
was perched on the windowsill inside the large main room of the hotel suite； smoking an
unfiltered cigarette。 ？Wele to our universe！？
？Nice to see you again。？ Serena giggled as she stepped through the door and crossed the room；
which was flooded with light from Twenty…third Street。 The walls were painted an astringent mint
green that reminded her of the dorm bathrooms at Hanover Academy； the New Hampshire
boarding school where she？d spent her junior year。 There was an over…stuffed brown couch with
cracks and splits in the leather along the armrests； and dozens of little potted cactuses lined the
windowsill。 Serena could see an unmade king…size bed through the French doors。
？You can kind of picture all the people who？ve had sex here； can？t you？？ Vanessa whispered。
Serena wrinkled her nose。 Now she could。
？You know Vanessa； of course。？ Ken tossed his cigarette out of the open window behind
him。 ？I？ve asked her to e aboard as our director of photography。？
Not like she had any choice。
？Great； cool。？ Serena winked at Vanessa； who was now busying herself with some
serious…looking equipment。
？And I？m Thaddeus；？ a sexy voice announced as the star strolled in from the adjacent bedroom。
Thaddeus Smith was taller than Serena had expected； and his thick dirty blond hair stood on end；
giving him an extra inch or so。 He was wearing an unremarkable outfit of dark jeans and a faded
black Lacoste polo； collar standing up with a sort of dorky deliberateness。 Serena had the
impression that she already knew him； and in a way she did： she？d watched him romance a
sweet…faced Southern starlet in the two romantic edies they？d done together； she？d seen him
flee a homicidal maniac （who turned out to be his long…lost twin brother； also played by him in a
challenging dual role）。 She？d even seen him in a skintight white bodysuit； playing a mute
otherworldly creature awakened by the sun？s alignment with an ancient Mayan ruin。 She？d heard
that familiar baritone before； as he flirted and bantered on the talk shows； and of course she？d
scoped out his signature abs in countless Les Best underwear advertisements。 In person； he more
than lived up to the hype： he was gorgeous； from the golden stubble on the sharp planes of his face
to his tanned and perfect feet。
Thaddeus took Serena？s hand in his and shook it firmly。 ？It？s so great to meet you at last。？ His
light blue eyes locked with her dark blue ones； or was she just imagining it？
？You too；？ she breathed。
？I？m glad we？re all here； now；？ Ken began； lighting another cigarette。 He hugged his knees to his
chest； perching on the windowsill in his slippery…looking royal…blue bicycle shorts。 ？Scripts out。
And Thaddeus； from now on she？s Holly； not Serena。？
Thaddeus plopped down on the cracked leather sofa； tossing the throw pillows carelessly onto
the floor。 ？Have a seat； Holly。？
Serena dug into her bag to retrieve her script； then sat on the couch； resisting the urge to
immediately snuggle closer to her costar。
Becausethat just wouldn？t be professional。
Ken closed his eyes and breathed in deeply； his nostrils flaring。 He spread his fingers out in front
of him like insect feelers； hopped off the windowsill； and staggered toward the center of the room。
His eyes popped open when he bumped into the chipped wooden coffee table and a mountain of
script rewrites slid to the floor