Only in Your Dreams (Gossip Girl #9)(13)
“I’m always happy to recommend books to our customers,” he replied smoothly.
“Awesome!” she cried with cheerleaderish enthusiasm. “I’m Bree.”
“Dan.”
“Cool, Dan. This book isn’t long, so I’ll be back in a couple of days. Thanks again for your help!” She turned and strolled away, an actual bounce in her step. Dan watched her small, round butt, which closely resembled two scoops of French vanilla ice cream, disappear behind the News and Current Events section, before remembering that he’d just asked Vanessa to move in with him.
How, um . . . enlightened.
Gossip Girl 09 - Only in Your Dreams
the family that plays together stays together
“Bravo!” cried Lord Marcus. “Darling, you’re simply a natural at this!”
Camilla chuckled, tucking her long blond mane behind her ears as her red croquet ball rolled through the wicket and came to rest on a patch of perfectly manicured emerald green lawn in the back garden of the Beaton-Rhodes manor. It was the third match they’d played that day, and Camilla had won. Again.
“I learned from the master,” she giggled excitedly.
“When is it going to be my turn?” Blair whined. She’d been waiting for ages to get her chance to swing the mallet. She was definitely in the mood to hit something.
Behind them the ivy-covered gray stone West London mansion rose up like a fortress. Blair hadn’t been invited inside yet, nor had she met Marcus’s parents.
“Mother has one of her headaches,” he’d explained, causing Camilla to erupt into a fit of honking laughter. Blair wondered if Lady Rhodes had a tendency to bring a bottle of sloe gin to bed with her, but she didn’t ask, preferring to glare menacingly at Camilla instead. There was something so “I’m in and you’re out” about her, Blair just wanted to rip her head off like some kind of ugly royal cousin Barbie that would still be on the shelves at FAO Schwarz long after Christmas.
“I believe that ends our game,” Lord Marcus called apolo-getically. “Shall we have another go?”
“Whatever,” muttered Blair, sipping her fourth Bombay Sapphire martini of the afternoon. The sprawling ancient stone mansion was framed by hundreds of perfectly conical bushes. Even the massive trees had been trimmed into unnatural shapes. Blair was beginning to feel like Alice at the Queen of Hearts’ palace in Wonderland. She lit a Silk Cut and puffed on it greedily. “Can we get some more refreshments?” she asked of no one in particular.
When in doubt, have another.
“I’m knackered,” sighed Camilla as she collapsed into the wrought-iron chair next to Blair’s. “Having fun?” she asked, putting her hand on Blair’s, which was curled up into an angry little fist.
Weren’t she and Marcus supposed to be in love? Why wasn’t he undressing her in his elegant Edwardian bedroom? Why did he want to pal around with his nag of a cousin? Why wasn’t he at 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 completely 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’m starved,” 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 overcome 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 realize she 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 f*cking 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.”