Confessions of a Teen Nanny 02 - Rich Girls (3 page)

Mrs.Warner turned back to Adrienne."Oh,Adrienne, I'm so silly. I've completely forgotten to introduce you. Adrienne is my daughter Emma's"--Mrs. Warner seemed to be searching for the right word--"companion and higher education adviser."

I guess "nanny" doesn't sound prestigious enough, Adrienne thought. But at least she got my name right.

"Isn't she just precious?" the woman drawled to her chorus of assistants.

The women all nodded, clucked and cooed, making Adrienne think of a flock of expensively dressed chickens.

The blond woman in charge handed Adrienne an engraved card. "Ahm SO pleased to meet you."

Adrienne read the card:

Debi LaDeux

"Queen of the Texas Dip"

Pageant Trainer, Debutante Adviser,

Deportment, Beauty, and Image Consultant

Miss United States of America, 19 . . .

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The lower right corner of the card was torn off, so Adrienne couldn't quite make out the year Debi had been Queen.

"The Texas Dip?" Adrienne said. "What's that?"

"Do it for her, Debi," encouraged one of the women.

"Yes, yes," the women chimed together, clapping their hands lightly. "Do it!"

Debi looked at Mrs. Warner. "Ah couldn't," she said. "Unless Christine really wants to see it again . . . "

"Oh, please, Debi!" Mrs. Warner said. "Now watch carefully, Adrienne, because Debi is just a genius at this. In Texas, when a girl is presented, they do this extraordinary curtsy. It is like ballet. The girls from Texas are famous for it, and I want to make sure that Cameron can do it prop- erly. Maintaining her Texas heritage is so important to me--and to her father, of course."

Cameron's father had made his second fortune--he lost the first one--in the oil fields of Texas. He had moved to New York ten years ago, with little Cameron in tow. Cameron's mom was a famous supermodel, who had jetted off to Fiji, never to return. As far as Adrienne knew, Cameron got the odd postcard every few years from her mom, but had no real contact or connection with her. Less than a year after arriving in Manhattan, Mr. Warner had married Christine, and she had promptly taken over the "mothering" responsibilities.

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"You are just a doll for feelin' that way," Debi said. "But the dip is more than ballet; it's gymnastics, ballet, and yoga--all in one perfect gesture. It says more about a young woman than just that she is well-bred and refined; it also says that she is strong, athletic, graceful, and well- proportioned. . . ."

Is she talking about a girl or a horse? Adrienne wondered.

"Here goes!" Debi announced. She stood in the center of the room and smiled at hundreds of invisible people. She raised one arm so that it was parallel to the floor.

"You have to imagine that an escort is beside her wearing white tie and tails," whispered Mrs.Warner.

"The traditional dip incorporates an escort and her father, of course," Debi explained. "How-evah, for the Manhattun Cotillion, only the escort is allowed. It creates a challenge."

Slowly, Debi began to sink.

Adrienne watched, amazed. It looked as if Debi were standing in an elevator that was going down impossibly slowly. Her smile didn't move. Her eyelashes didn't flutter. Debi just kept sinking. As the knee of Debi's right leg skimmed the floor, Adrienne thought the curtsy was over. But it wasn't.

Slowly, Debi began to slide backward, putting her weight on her back leg as she extended her left front leg forward in a straight line, toe pointed.

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"Of course in a long gown, you can't see any of the legwork," Mrs.Warner whispered.

Now that she was on the floor, right leg underneath her, Debi began to bow, her head falling slowly toward her right knee. Then, just as her lips were about to touch her own knee, Debi turned her head to the right and smiled brightly, raising her head and looking around the room.

Everyone burst into applause.

"Why does she do that with her head?" Adrienne asked, clapping along with everyone else.

"To keep lipstick from getting on the skirt," Mrs. Warner explained.

"What the hell is going on here?" a man's voice sud- denly boomed throughout the room.

Mr.Warner and his son, Graydon, strode into the liv- ing room carrying squash racquets and Coach gym bags.

"Oh, darling," Mrs. Warner said. "This is Debi LaDeux, Cameron's pageant trainer."

"What the hell is a pageant trainer?" Mr. Warner asked, handing his racquet and bag to one of the maids. Graydon did the same.

"Well, Mr.Warner," Debi said, still posed on the floor, "if you and your son would be absolute dears and help me up, I'll explain."

Mr. Warner and Graydon lifted Debi up from the floor, and she turned to them with a dazzling smile.

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"Mr.Warner, I am a former Miss United States, and I have worked with the daughters of most of the prominent families of Texas in order to perfect the Texas Dip before their presentations. I train the girls in carriage and deport- ment. I teach them how to conduct themselves at debu- tante teas, I teach them to project an image of easy grace and refinement, I teach them the ability to hold up under pressure."

"What pressure?" Mr.Warner asked."It's just a dance."

"`Just a dance?'" Mrs.Warner recoiled in horror.

Debi stood up even straighter, if that was possible. "It is the Man-HATTUN COTILL-yun, Mr.War-nuh!"

"Fine, fine, fine," Mr.Warner muttered. "Anything for Cameron." He vanished into his study.

"Hey," Graydon said, sidling up to Adrienne."Haven't seen you since Palm Beach.Why don't we get together for a drink?"

Only if the drink is poison, Adrienne thought. She slipped away from him and positioned herself on Mrs. Warner's other side. Cameron's half brother, Graydon, was a handsome sleazebag, and Adrienne unfortunately had made out with him once during her least favorite moment in Palm Beach.

Adrienne heard the elevator doors opening into the apartment.Then she heard a giggle. She glanced toward the entryway.There was Cameron making out with Brian!

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Grumpus the great

A drienne's stomach clutched. She clenched her jaw and ordered herself not to cry--or hurl.

Brian noticed the roomful of people first."Uh, Cam?" he said, stepping away from her. He nodded toward the room.

"What?" Cameron turned, confused. She smiled. "Wow," she said. "I so didn't see you guys."

"Clearly," Mrs.Warner said, her voice grim.

"Bri was walking me home," Cam said, taking his hand and swinging it a little.

Brian kept his head down, obviously embarrassed at being caught making out by Cam's stepmom. Adrienne wasn't sure if he had seen her. She hoped he hadn't."I, uh, I should go." He stepped away from Cameron.

"Okay, bye, lover," Cameron crooned. She kissed him on the cheek, and he hurried back into the elevator.As the elevator door closed, she entered the living room.

Adrienne stared at the floor. She didn't want to look

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at Cameron's smug face, and she didn't want anyone to see how horrible she felt.

"So, what's going on?" Cameron asked.

"Cameron," Mrs. Warner said, "this is Miss LaDeux. She will be your adviser for the cotillion."

Cameron smirked. "You have got to be joking."

"No, Cameron," Mrs. Warner said, her voice steely. "I assure you, I am very serious."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Whatever." Then she gave Debi an appraising look. "Can you make me Deb of the Year?"

"Oh, we are going to be the best girlfriends," Debi drawled. She sat on one of the sofas and patted the cush- ion next to her. "You come sit he-ah next to me and we can get stah-ted."

Cameron sat down on the sofa and draped herself lan- guidly against the armrest, looking at Debi with a mixture of amusement and pity.

"Now, what handsome boy will you be bringing as your escort, deah?" Debi asked. "A beautiful girl like you must have your pick of suitors."

A slow smile spread across Cameron's perfect face. Looking straight at Adrienne, she said,"Why, I'll be bring- ing Brian Grady, of course."

I would really love to smack that smile off her face, Adrienne thought.

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"Is he one of the Midland Gradys?" Debi asked, her eyelashes fluttering with excitement.

Cameron smiled. "I doubt it," she said. "He lives way uptown somewhere.

Now Debi blinked. She raised a plucked eyebrow and looked at Mrs.Warner.

Mrs.Warner cleared her throat. "While I am sure that Byron is very nice--"

"You really need a boy of significant social standing, to appear to your best advantage," Ms. LaDeux finished for her.

Cam stood up. "I'll take whomever I please," she declared. "And I want Brian." She looked straight at Adrienne. "Since I have him, after all. Bye, everyone." She kissed Mrs.Warner on the cheek, and slowly strolled to her room, leaving Debi and her flock clucking.

"I-I'd better go check on Emma," Adrienne said to Mrs.Warner, who looked slightly shell-shocked.

"I'll come with you," Mrs.Warner said.

Mrs. Warner slipped her arm through Adrienne's and walked her into the drawing room.

"The cotillion is extremely important to me," Mrs. Warner explained as soon as they were alone."I came out at the cotillion, and so did my mother and my grandmother and my great-grandmother. Someday Emma will as well." She sighed."But Cameron has been a bit of a hard sell with

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the committee. Mr. Warner's money is too new, and well, Cameron has always come across in public as a bit . . ."

Of a slut? Adrienne thought.

". . . high spirited," Mrs.Warner said. "And so, for her sake, and for the sake of our family's reputation, Cameron really has to be the ideal debutante this year."

Where is this going? Adrienne wondered.

"I understand you dated this Byron, didn't you?" Mrs. Warner asked.

"Brian," Adrienne said, wondering how Mrs. Warner knew that. From Emma, maybe? "Yes, I did."

"Well," Mrs. Warner said, "wouldn't it be nice if you two got back together?"

Adrienne's eyes widened.

"And wouldn't it be wonderful if you reunited before the cotillion?" Mrs. Warner continued. "And then Cameron could find someone more appropriate to take as an escort. Oh, Mr. Warner and I would be very grateful if that's what happens. Wait here." Mrs. Warner vanished down the hall.

Adrienne plopped onto a settee, still wondering what Mrs.Warner was driving at.

Mrs.Warner returned holding an envelope. She placed the envelope on the coffee table in front of Adrienne. "That's for you," she said. "Why don't you take Byron out for dinner? Rekindle the flame." She smiled. "If you two

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are back together before the cotillion, there will be a bonus in it for you."

Mrs.Warner will pay me to steal Brian back from Cameron? Adrienne was so stunned, she couldn't even think.

But only for a moment.

Get Brian back, show Cameron up, steal her date for the cotillion, AND get paid?

"Mrs.Warner," Adrienne said. "You're on!"

"Okay, Heather, inside," Liz said, opening the door and hustling the small girl into the glamorous, recently redecorated apartment.

"Safe," Heather said with a trembling voice.

Liz looked down at the nine-year-old girl. Heather was a miniature bundle of nerves, but Liz couldn't help feeling warmly toward her.

As the two girls walked into the large living room, a small boy hurled himself at Liz.

"Liz!" David shouted, wrapping his arms tightly around her knees, making it impossible for her to walk.

"David, what are you doing home so early?" she asked. "What happened to your playdate with Wolf?" She pried David's fingers off and glanced up.Wolf Stroheim and his ancient Austrian nanny, Renate, were standing in the living room.

"Ve ended early," Renate explained in a crisp German

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accent. "It was for ze best.Ve vere just vaiting for you."

Wolf and David often played together, and it had never been a problem before. But now Liz could see that the sturdy little five-year-old was scowling.

"I hate Grumpus!" Wolf said in a German accent. It made him sound very formal.

David snorted. "Grumpus is great!"

Liz was confused. "Uh--thanks for bringing David home, Renate," Liz said. "I'll see you out."

Dr. M-C insisted that Liz always accompany guests to the elevator. Liz figured it was to make sure no one made any detours to check any of the private rooms or peer into medicine cabinets. Dr. M-C was a stickler for privacy--she had never even revealed the identity of Heather and David's dad to Liz, even after a year of Liz being their nanny. Liz knew New York society whispered behind closed doors that the kids were test-tube babies. She wasn't sure, but it kind of made sense. She couldn't imagine Dr. M-C having sex with anyone--nor did she want to.

As Liz walked Renate and Wolf out, a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the apartment. It was followed by a series of shrieked "no's."

Liz smiled at Renate and pushed the elevator call but- ton. "I think I'm needed. See you soon."

Liz rushed back into the living room, where Heather was trying to sit on the sofa next to David and he kept

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shoving her off, screaming "no" at the top of his lungs.

"Quit it!" Heather shouted.

"You'll crush Grumpus!" David screamed.Tears rolled down his face.

Liz grabbed one of Heather's arms and pulled her back up to her feet. She planted herself between the two kids.

"Both of you, quit it," Liz ordered. "Heather, there." She pointed to the brocade armchair. "David, there." She pointed to the sofa. Both children did as they were told.

"Okay, what's going on here?" Liz asked. "And what's this about Grumpus? Wolf said he hated him.Who is he?"

"Ugh!" Heather crossed her arms over her small chest. "It's David's stupid invisible friend!"

"He is not invisible!" David protested."I see him, and he's right here!" He patted the spot next to him on the couch.

Liz smiled. Invisible friend, she thought. Cute.

Liz checked her watch. It was time for the disgusting snack that Dr. Markham-Collins insisted was the corner- stone of every healthy child's diet.The kids seemed to have calmed down, so she figured it was safe to leave the room for a minute. "Shall I get you your snacks?" she asked.

"Yes, please!" David said eagerly."And bring some for Grumpus!"

Liz retreated to the huge kitchen, shaking her head.

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She put the bran cookies on the plates and had just poured the soy milk when her phone rang.

She checked the caller ID. Parker! She snapped open the phone. "Hey there!" she greeted. "Did you survive calculus?"

"Barely," he replied. Liz could hear the smile in his voice. "So, what are you doing on Saturday?"

"I don't know," Liz said coyly."I might be available. If the offer is cool enough."

"Oh, it's cool--that's for sure," Parker said. "I'll pick you up Saturday night at seven at your apartment."

"Uh, no," Liz said, not wanting Parker to see the run- down building where she and her mom lived on the Upper West Side. At least, not till she was more sure of him."I'll be working that day. Meet me in front of 841. I'll be ready."

"Excellent," Parker said. "Oh, and Liz?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"Wear something really dressed up. Long, you know? It's kind of fancy." Parker clicked off.

Liz's mind reeled. Fancy? If Parker said they were going to something fancy, what did that mean?

Parker Devlin's father was a multimillionaire media mogul who owned several newspapers and knew the pres- ident personally. The Devlins went to the White House Christmas party every year, and Parker casually described that as "no big deal"!

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The White House is "no big deal," but where we're going is fancy? Where are we going? Dinner with the queen?

Liz tucked her phone back into her pocket, put the rock-hard cookies and disgusting soy milk on a tray, and walked back into the living room. She was surprised to find Dr. Mayra Markham-Collins--"New York's #1 Working Mom" according to New York magazine--reprimanding her daughter.

"Now, Heather, if you can't share with your brother and his friend, what kind of a girl are you?" Dr. M-C scolded, a terrifying vision in huge eyeglasses and a hot pink shawl wrapped around her large frame.

Heather looked hurt--and extremely confused.

"But, Mommy," Heather responded, "I don't see any- one else.There's only me and David!"

"Don't deny the existence of your brother's best friend," Dr. M-C said. "I don't want your latent hostility toward me visited on him. Now sit on the other side of the sofa so that Grumpus can see the TV."

Heather obeyed, leaving an empty spot in the middle of the sofa.

Dr. M-C turned to Liz. "What is that?" she asked.

Liz looked down at her tray. "Uh, soy milk and bran cookies?"

"But I only see two plates and two glasses," Dr. M-C said. "What about Grumpus?"

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Liz blinked. Huh?

"Elizabeth, put those down. I want to see you in the kitchen."

Liz followed Dr. M-C into the kitchen, wondering what could possibly come next. It has finally happened, she thought. The doc has totally lost her mind.

Dr. M-C closed the door, turned, and smiled at Liz."I was good, wasn't I?" she asked. "I should be an actress!"

You should be put in an institution, Liz thought. What was this woman talking about?

"We cannot step on David's vibrant creativity! Grrrrrumpus!" Dr. M-C gushed, rolling the "r" for emphasis. "What a brilliant name for an invisible friend! David is angry at someone, so he gives his invisible friend the very NAME of the feeling he's repressing. It is the PERFECT case scenario! Elizabeth," she went on eagerly, "you must go along with him and pretend there is a third child. Let me know what David is doing with him. There is an incredible book in this! I can see it now: The Imaginary Friend: Exploring Your Child's Inner Child! You'll have to take notes to help me."

"Take notes on what?" Liz asked. "It's not as if Grumpus is actually doing anything. He doesn't exist!"

"Oh, Elizabeth!" Dr. M-C groaned, hands on her ample hips. "Do I always have to explain everything to you? Just HELP me for once, will you?"

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"Well, all right, Dr. Markham-Collins," Liz agreed reluctantly.

Dr. M-C turned to leave, then paused and faced Liz again. "You're going to be here on Saturday, aren't you?"

"Just like every Saturday," Liz said.

"Good.Then you can stay late, can't you? I'll need to meet with my literary agent for drinks to talk all this over."

Oh, no! Not Saturday! "Dr. Markham-Collins, I have a date that night," Liz explained. "How late did you have in mind?"

Dr. M-C's eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "You would let your social life interfere with your career?"

Liz's eyes widened. Being a nanny is NOT my career! she thought.

Then Liz remembered how Dr. M-C had reacted when Parker had dropped by to see her before. "Well, it's just that Parker Devlin and I are both so busy that it's hard for us to see each other," Liz said, hoping Dr. M-C would go into snob overdrive.

"Parker? Parker Devlin?" Dr. M-C repeated in aston- ishment.

As Liz had figured she would, Dr. M-C practically salivated just by saying the name. Dr. M-C was the biggest social climber in New York, and everyone knew it.

"Yes," Liz replied. "You met him here, remember?"

"I remember," Dr. M-C said. "It's just that I thought

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that was a one-time . . . well, I'd think that he'd want a girl who . . . I mean a girl from . . . oh, never mind.What were you asking me?"

"What time I could leave, so I could go on my date. He wanted to pick me up at seven. He said we're going somewhere very fancy."