Juicy Secrets

by Victoria Ashton

  Liz nodded. “Or if your birthday party isn’t catered and star-studded.”

  “Or if the underwear for summer camp isn’t La Perla.”

  “Or if you don’t go from your riding lesson to the Olympics…” Liz trailed off.

  “You okay?” Adrienne asked.

  “That’s it!” Liz exclaimed, causing a seal to turn and bark at her. “No wonder Parker is freaking out. He doesn’t know how to be a boyfriend without spending big bucks. He’s never just gone out and had plain old fun!”

  “You may be onto something,” Adrienne said.

  “He thinks that unless it’s a five-hundred-dollar dinner, it’s not eating,” Liz said. “Or that if the music isn’t coming out of the speakers of the hottest club, it’s not music. It always has to be a production number for him. And if he can’t offer that to a date, what’s he got? Who is he? That’s what I have to show him—I don’t need any of that to have a good time with him.”

  “Liz, are you sure?” Adrienne asked skeptically. “You and I can lie in Central Park and gab, or grab a slice of pizza at Two Boots in the Village, or go window-shopping and not actually buy anything. I don’t know if Parker’s up for real life, do you?”

  Liz smiled. “The great thing about real life is that it belongs to you. You can make it up as you go along! And if I can get Parker out into it, I can also make him see that none of this stuff happening to his dad has anything to do with us.”

  “I don’t know,” Adrienne said. “He’s pretty down.”

  “His dad isn’t dying,” Liz said. “So Parker’s not as rich as he used to be. Should I like him any less? If the Warners lost all their money, would you abandon Graydon?”

  “I don’t think it would be an issue,” Adrienne said. “It seems like Parker’s identity is all wrapped up in being his dad’s kid. Graydon’s really his own guy. He’s like a changeling in that family.”

  “He is cute,” Liz admitted.

  Adrienne smiled. Now that it seemed as if her friend was feeling a bit stronger, Adrienne felt more comfortable talking about Graydon. She’d been desperate to talk to Liz ever since she had come to the momentous realization that she thought she was ready to go all the way with Graydon. In fact, she was starting to make plans—the night of the benefit would be the night. “You know, Liz,” she said, blushing a little.

  “Yes?” Liz said, turning to her friend.

  “About Graydon. Graydon and me. I think I want to…I mean, that after the benefit…” She stopped.

  “Adrienne, no.” Liz’s eyes widened.

  “Yes,” Adrienne said, nodding. “I think I’m in love.” Just saying the words made her feel flushed and shy. “And…and I’m pretty sure Graydon loves me, too. Everything about the way he treats me makes it seem that way. I-I think that I’m ready to go further.”

  “Are you serious?” Liz said.

  “I’m seriously sick.” Emma groaned behind them.

  Adrienne whirled around to see Emma doubled over and clutching her stomach. “I thought you were watching the seals,” she said. Did she hear our conversation?

  “I was practicing tailing a suspect.” Emma moaned. “But now my stomach is killing me!”

  Adrienne knelt down beside Emma. “Okay, don’t worry. I’ll get you right home.” She thought maybe Emma was faking it to get away from David and Heather, but she wasn’t going to risk it. “Sorry,” she told Liz.

  “No problem,” Liz said. “But we still have to talk about you!”

  “I’ll call you later,” Adrienne promised.

  “You’d better!” Liz said. “This needs more discussion.”

  Emma tugged her hand. “Let’s go!”

  “We’re going,” Adrienne said.

  “I think we’ll hang here awhile,” Liz said. “The kids are actually having plain old fun for a change.”

  Adrienne and Emma hurried out of the park and back to 841 Fifth Avenue, Emma moaning the entire way.

  As soon as they arrived upstairs, Emma ran to her room. Is she going to barf? Adrienne worried, following. But when she entered Emma’s bedroom, the little girl was rummaging through piles of CDs on her desk. She seemed to have had a miraculous recovery.

  “How’s your stomach?” Adrienne narrowed her eyes.

  “That was a ruse,” Emma said. “A scam. A ploy.”

  “No kidding.” Adrienne shook her head, her frustration growing. “Emma, it is not—”

  “But it was for your own good!” Emma held up a CD. “You have to listen to this!”

  Adrienne looked at Emma’s desk. “What are all these CDs?” she asked.

  “Data,” Emma said. “Conversations. For evidence.”

  “You’ve been taping people?” Adrienne’s eyes widened. “Emma, I told you that you couldn’t secretly record people anymore.”

  Now Emma’s expression grew cagey. “Ohhhhhhh. I thought you meant I couldn’t videotape anymore. You didn’t say anything about audio!”

  Adrienne sighed. If there was a loophole, Emma would always find it.

  Before Adrienne could figure out how to respond, Emma popped the CD in her stereo and Cameron’s voice filled the room.

  “She’s such a little bitch,” Cameron said. “I’d do anything to get rid of her.”

  “Would you?” Graydon asked. “Really?” Even though it was just his voice, Adrienne grinned. She could hear him smiling.

  “She gets under my skin,” Cameron complained. “I thought the whole newspaper thing would help, but it didn’t.”

  Cameron is talking about Mimi, Adrienne realized.

  “So what do you want me to do about it, Cam?” Graydon said. “I’m in college. I don’t have time for your silly high school games.”

  “I want you to seduce her and drop her,” Cameron wheedled.

  “No way!” Graydon said.

  Thatta boy! Adrienne was thrilled that Graydon wouldn’t do anything so sleazy.

  “I want her wrecked,” Cameron insisted. “Her reputation, her emotions, her job.”

  Wait a minute, Adrienne thought. What job? Mimi doesn’t work!

  “Forget it,” Graydon said. “I don’t want to waste my time on a little nothing like her.”

  “Well, I guess if you’re not up to it…” Cameron taunted.

  “What do you mean ‘not up to it’?” Graydon demanded. “I just don’t want to. She’s not worth my time.”

  “Sure, fine, whatever.” Now Cameron sounded bored.

  “You know I could do it,” Graydon pressed.

  “Just forget it, Gray.”

  “I don’t want to forget it,” Graydon said. “In fact, let’s make this interesting. Let’s put a little wager on it.”

  Adrienne’s brow furrowed. Could Graydon actually be going along with this horrible plot?

  “I know,” Cameron said, her voice excited again. “If you do it, if you seduce her and dump her, I’ll give you my convertible at the beach.”

  “Okay,” Graydon agreed. “And if I don’t manage it—and you know that’s not going to happen, but in case every law of the universe goes awry, I’ll buy you that coat at J. Mendel you keep whining about.”

  That is so wrong! Adrienne thought. I can’t believe that Graydon could be so…so like Cameron!

  “Deal!” Cameron exclaimed. It sounded to Adrienne as if the two schemers had high-fived. “The day she leaves, either you get the keys…”

  “Or you get the coat.”

  Cameron giggled. “I guess either way I win. You know,” she added thoughtfully. “I almost feel sorry for her.”

  Me, too! Adrienne thought.

  “Why?” Graydon asked.

  “Because she’ll never know what hit her,” Cameron said. “Poor Adrienne.”

  Poor Adrienne.

  Adrienne turned off the CD player, her hand shaking.

  They’re talking about me!

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  free love

  “I told you Graydon shouldn’t be your boyfriend,” E
mma declared. “Now maybe you’ll believe me.”

  Adrienne numbly looked from the CD player to Emma. She was too upset to even speak. Too upset to even cry. All she could do was stare at Emma in shock.

  “So don’t be all in love with him like you said,” Emma said. “He’s not good enough for you.”

  Adrienne smiled in spite of her pain. “You got that right,” she said weakly. Emma had heard her conversation with Liz and didn’t want Adrienne to make the biggest mistake of her life. Emma actually cared about her. At the moment, that meant the world to her.

  “Now maybe you won’t be mad that I didn’t listen to you, right?” Emma wheedled. “And agree that CSI totally rules.”

  Adrienne took in a shaky breath, trying to stay focused, trying to process this incredible betrayal by Graydon. “It-it’s still wrong that you tape people behind their backs,” Adrienne said. Then she squeezed the girl in a tight hug. “But thank you for playing this for me.”

  “You should hear the other stuff Cameron and Graydon talk about.” Emma reached for the player again.

  “No,” Adrienne said. “I don’t want to hear.” She didn’t think she could take hearing their voices, or anything else they might have said about her.

  “Okay,” Emma said. “They say mean things about everybody. Mostly about you and Mimi, though.”

  Adrienne swallowed hard, afraid she was going to be sick. What other horrible things could they have said? No. Don’t torture yourself like this, she told herself. Do not listen to these tapes.

  Then another nauseating idea occurred to her. What if Emma had played these conversations for anyone else? I’ll be branded as the total loser of the universe, she thought, her cheeks reddening. I have to destroy them!

  “Listen, Emma,” she said, collecting the CDs, “I’m going to take these.”

  “But—” Emma began.

  Adrienne held up a hand to stop her. “No. I need to take them.” She tucked the CDs into her bag, then turned back to Emma. “Since you don’t have an actual stomach-ache, why don’t we see if Tania has a snack for you?” She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it together. She figured Tania wouldn’t mind if she left early.

  In the elevator Adrienne thought she would start sobbing, but she took a deep breath and held it together. When she stepped out into the warm spring evening, she looked up and down Fifth Avenue, relieved Graydon wasn’t pulling another one of his surprise grand appearances, and hurried toward the subway.

  I really thought he was falling in love with me, she thought, a horrible leaden feeling invading her entire body. Instead, I was falling right into their game. How could I have been so stupid?

  Adrienne wasn’t sure which felt worse: that the guy she thought she loved was a complete skank or that she had been set up and played for a total fool by Cameron.

  She’s done it to me again, Adrienne thought. I can not let her get away with it this time.

  Adrienne went to dump the CDs in a corner garbage can but stopped.

  Conversations. She stared at the discs in her hand. Cameron’s private conversations.

  “Cameron had better be prepared for a real shock,” she murmured, slipping the CDs back into her bag.

  Saturday morning, Heather paced back and forth near the riding rings at Madison Square Garden. She was in her riding clothes: beige jodhpurs, well-tailored jacket, and velvet riding cap. Her wild curls had been tamed by Ms. Winters into two neat braids that hung down her back, the ends carefully wrapped and tied with black silk ribbon. Heather looked bright and alert, but very nervous.

  Liz stood at Heather’s side, patting her shoulder. She had never been “eventing” (as Ms. Winters called participating in the competition), and she had had no idea what to expect. For the Knickerbocker show there were two rings set up: one with jumps, the other without.

  The competitions seemed to run simultaneously. The crowd alternately recognized one rider or the other as they competed in different events, and so just as one rider was performing a difficult jump or move, the audience would cheer for the rider in the other ring. That would drive me nuts, Liz thought. How do those girls stay so focused?

  Liz recognized Mitzi Huntington’s daughter, Kelli, in the next ring, looking as if she had ridden every day of her life. Kelli was twelve—three years older than Heather—and already looked like a seasoned pro. She easily cleared the first few low jumps, expertly demonstrating her careful control of the horse. As she neared the final and largest jump, her horse slowed slightly and, instead of sailing over the wide jump, clipped the rail with his rear hoof and knocked it down.

  “Don’t let the activity in the other ring or the audience distract you,” Ms. Winters instructed Heather, as if she’d read Liz’s thoughts. “You’ve worked hard for this, Heather.”

  It was true, Liz noted. Ever since Heather’s breakthrough a few weeks ago, when she had finally posted correctly, her entire attitude had changed. Now she was eager for lessons and had become one of those little girls obsessed with horses. Finally, Liz thought, Heather has found something she might be good at.

  Liz just hoped that being forced to compete so early in her training wouldn’t set Heather back.

  “Where’s Mommy?” Heather asked, mounting Mindreader.

  “She said she wanted to go change,” Liz said.

  “Make sure she watches,” Heather said, worry creasing her forehead.

  “I’m she won’t miss it,” Liz promised, hoping she was telling the truth.

  “Keep your seat, watch your gait, chin up, back straight, elbows in, heels and hands down, and you’ll be fine.” Ms. Winters patted Heather on the leg. “Off you go.”

  Heather guided Mindreader to the small ring where the other contestants in her division waited to compete.

  Liz watched Heather with affection. She’s really done so well. I hope she wins—or at least doesn’t embarrass herself.

  “Tally HO!” a familiar voice hollered. Liz turned.

  Dr. Markham-Collins stood in a box at the side of the ring. She waved her arms to attract Heather’s attention.

  Dr. M-C had truly outdone herself. A glistening silk top hat with ribbons dangling from it perched crookedly on top of her frizzy curls. Her coat was a bright fire-engine red and taut against her body. Her white jodhpurs stretched tight across her thick legs. Tall black boots completed the ensemble, and Dr. M-C waved her gloves in her right hand and a riding crop in her left for emphasis.

  “I’m watching, darling!” Dr. M-C called, her voice startling horses around the arena. “Ride like the wind!”

  I shouldn’t have worried, Liz thought. Why would Heather embarrass herself when her mother is so ready to do it for her?

  “Oh, MITZI!” Dr. M-C bellowed to Mrs. Huntington in the next box. “I am SO SORRY that Kelli’s mount KNOCKED that jump OVER! You must be DEVASTATED that she has been working so hard only to suffer SUCH a DEFEAT.”

  “Into the ring!” a voice announced. “The level-one walk-trot division.”

  Liz watched Heather’s group enter the ring. Liz spotted little Darien Darrel on a lumbering gray mare ahead of Heather.

  “Go, Heather!” Dr. M-C shouted, leaning out from her box and waving her crop in a show of over-the-top enthusiasm. The mothers of the other riders, in neat sweaters and slim pants, stared at her in horrified fascination as she bellowed as if she were at a hockey match.

  The girls followed the instructions of the announcer, maneuvering around the ring. Liz caught her breath as Darien had trouble turning her horse around to reverse directions, but Heather seemed to have it all under control. She had a little difficulty when the announcer called for a “sitting trot,” but she never lost her cool.

  Luckily before Liz passed out from holding her breath for so long, Heather had finished the course. She sat beaming proudly on top of Mindreader as the winners were announced.

  “Third place!” Liz gasped when she heard Heather’s name a
nnounced. “That’s amazing!”

  “I told you she could do it,” Ms. Winters said.

  “You did a great job,” Liz said. “I never would have guessed she’d get so good. And I’ve never seen her this confident.”

  “It’s something about riding. I’ve seen it before,” Ms. Winters explained. “She gets to use her natural skills instead of her acquired behaviors. And I just kept telling her if she worked hard, she could do it because she had the talent and the skills. Paid off. Great seat, she has.” Ms. Winters smiled. “Give her a treat. She did well.”

  Heather came out of the back, leading Mindreader by the reins.

  “That was fun!” she said. “And look! I got a ribbon.”

  “I know!” Liz said, giving Heather a hug. “You rode really well. I was so proud of you!”

  “Oh, so was I, darling!” Dr. M-C said, stomping up to them. “You made Darien Darrel look like a clod!”

  Liz’s phone rang and she glanced down. Parker. She felt flutters in her stomach as she picked up. She had no idea how he would act—it had been almost two weeks since they’d last spoken.

  “Hey,” Parker said. He sounded distant—almost disinterested. “You keep calling me, and I figured I should at least call you back.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Liz said. “Listen, I’m at Madison Square Garden. Heather did really great in her very first horse show, and I am completely thrilled. I want to celebrate. What are you doing?”

  “Liz, I’m in no mood to celebrate,” Parker said. “You should know that.”

  Liz took a deep breath. “Parker, I really care about you, and I’m sure you care about me.” She spoke quickly so he wouldn’t have a chance to contradict her. “Even if you don’t want to see me any more as my boyfriend, I still want you to know that I’m your friend. Some of the most fun I’ve had in the past few months has been with you.”