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？Look； darling； dinner！？ Lord Marcus cried； noticing the vendor and literally reading Blair？s
mind。 ？You sit tight and I？ll go fetch us some。？
Darling。 She was his darling； and he fetched things for her！
So they？d eaten Sabrett hot dogs with mustard and relish and sipped A&W root beer； holding
hands and dozing off until Blair？s eyelids had fluttered open to find Serena looming out of the
early morning mist in her perfectly distressed jeans and no makeup。 She？d bolted out of the car
and slapped her black Chanel sunglasses over her eyes。 No way was that blond bitch going to steal
her part in this show。
Never mind the other hundreds of actress…wannabes who were beginning to turn up for the
audition。
Now it was nearly eight o？clock and the audition was about to begin。 It was an unusually hot and
humid May morning and the two girls stood front…to…back at the head of the line； fanning
themselves with the page of lines Ken Mogul？s helpers had handed out and which they？d already
memorized。
Finally Serena could stand it no longer。 ？God； it？s hot。？ Blair didn？t respond； so Serena reached
out and touched Blair？s bare arm。 ？So； that guy you？ve been hanging out with？he seems really
nice；？ she ventured awkwardly。
Blair wished she were taller so she could gaze down at Serena with such hawklike severity that
Serena would never attempt to speak to her again。 Alas； she was nearly six inches shorter than
Serena； especially since she was wearing the required Holly Golightly？esque superflat flats。
She was about to give a short and extremely nasty reply when she realized something startling。
She didn？t even mind anymore that Serena had Nate。 She had the hotter； taller； more refined；
better…bred； British version of Nate； and she was perfectly happy with him； thank you very much。
In fact； just to prove how fine she was with everything； they could all be friends？the four of them。
She pushed her enormous Chanel sunglasses on top of her head and smiled brightly up at her
former friend。 ？How about after this the four of us all get a drink down at the Yale Club together？
They have a great lounge。 It？s like a hotel bar out of an old movie or something。 You？d love it。？
？Really？？Serena gasped； wondering if she might be dreaming。 Had Blair really just invited her
and Nate to have a drink with her and her new boyfriend？
？Sorry for the wait； ladies。 All right； Blair Waldorf； you？re up；？ announced a skinny guy in his
twenties with a hipster…mullet haircut and faded Diesel jeans rolled up to his knees。
Blair flipped her sunglasses back onto her nose。
？Good luck；？ Serena said faintly； still unsure of whether they were really talking to each other or
not。
Mullet guy led Blair inside the store？thank goodness for air…conditioning！？and across the
cosmetics floor to the elevators。 Barneys didn？t open until ten on Saturdays； so it was weirdly
quiet。 Of course； Blair spent so much time there； she could have found her way to Fred？s
blindfolded； but that wasn？t enough to get her the part。
Fred？s； the store？s notorious restaurant； was up on the ninth floor。 Long and narrow； with
windows along one wall overlooking Madison； and a small； modern bar； it was the type of
restaurant that was surprisingly unspectacular looking given its popularity。 What made it
spectacular was its usual clientele？the Holly Golightlys of the present day and their
Park…Avenue…dwelling mothers or publicists； all dressed in Chanel and Prada； sipping white wine
spritzers and picking at their salads while they worried about whether someone else was going to
buy the last pair of faun…colored Costume National knee…high stiletto boots they had spotted on
their way up to the restaurant。
Right now； though； the restaurant was empty； except for Ken Mogul and his crew。 The director
was standing by the bar giving lighting direction to a gaggle of Swedish…looking blond female
crewpeople in matching black tunics； his notorious bulging blue eyes bloodshot with fatigue。 He
sported a short； prickly； reddish beard with no mustache？never a good look？and shoulder…length
curly red hair。 His 1980s…style leather jacket had huge rounded shoulders； and his Levi？s were
way too tight？also not a good look。 Blair had never seen him before and thought he might be one
of the crew until he addressed her。
？Well； you certainlylook the part。？ He pointed to one of the chrome…and…black…leather bar stools；
gesturing for her to sit down。 ？But this isn？t a plete remake； you know。 I？m taking some
liberties。 For instance； Holly might not have brown hair。 And she could be tall。？
Way to rub a brunette who？s always been on the shorter side the wrong way！
It had taken Blair three hours to get dressed； so she decided to ignore his insult。 She folded up the
sheet of paper she？d been given to read from and tucked it into her purse； partly to impress Ken
Mogul with the fact that she？d already memorized her lines； and partly to show that her feathers
weren？t easily ruffled。 Then she sat down on a bar stool and crossed her legs with Audrey
Hepburn？like balletic grace。
？I？m not going to give you any direction；？ Ken Mogul remarked。 ？You just do your thing； okay？
So ？ action！？
Blair had Googled Ken Mogul and found a ton of articles about how he called himself
the ？undirector；？ and how actors hated working with him because he just stared at them without
giving them any direction at all。 He probably thought he was terribly avant…garde or whatever。
Well； that was fine with her； because she didn？t need any direction？shewas Audrey Hepburn
playing Holly Golightly twenty…four hours a day。
She pulled a cigarette and the long ebony…and…mother…of…pearl cigarette holder she？d found in an
antique shop in Rhode Island two summers ago out of her slim black satin vintage Chanel
pocketbook。
？Howdo youdo ？？ she purred； sounding exactly like Audrey at her most charming。 She lit her
cigarette and blew a delicate stream of smoke over Ken Mogul？s head。 Then she delivered that
dreamy； faraway smile that was Audrey？s trademark。 ？Don？t you justlove it here？ Isn？t
itwonderful waking up and knowing this place isright here ； every day？ It？s my
absoluteparadise 。？
Blair waited for Ken Mogul？s response。 Those were the only lines she？d been given to say； and
she？d said them perfectly； even if she did say so herself。
Ken Mogul covered his bulging blue eyes with his hand and then pulled it roughly away again in
a bizarre game of peekaboo。 He stared at Blair for a moment longer and then yelled； ？Next！？
Blair dropped down off the stool and walked gracefully out of the restaurant to where Lord
Marcus was waiting for her near the elevator doors。 He gathered her in his strong； capable； royal
arms。 ？You were stunning；？ he reassured her。 ？I was watching from the door。？
Blair leaned her cheek against his chest； still in character。 ？I do love it here；？ she sighed
dreamily。
The elevator doors rolled open and Serena and Nate stepped out。
？Good luck！？ Blair called out generously。 She took another drag on her cigarette holder and
offered Nate a serene smile。 He smiled weakly back at her； looking a little red around the eyes；
like he？d been crying； or； more likely； was extremely stoned。 But from where Blair stood； with her
body pressed against her hunky British lord； that was really none of her concern。
Then Lord Marcus kissed the back of Blair？s head； sending a little thrill down her spine。 The
door to the ladies？ lounge was right in front of them。 She took his hand and tugged him toward it。
Nothing better than a little make…out session before breakfast。
He？s e undone
Nate was outside the hotel with the trunk show security guard； smoking a hand…rolled
pot…mixed…with…tobacco cigarette。 The sun beat down on Fifth Avenue and Sixty…first Street； and
with the masses of European tourists and clouds of bus exhaust； it felt more like late August than
the last week in May。
？Beautiful day；？ the security guard； whose gold plastic name tag read DARWIN； remarked。 He
was huge and bald and probably moonlighted as a nightclub bouncer。 He squeezed his eyes shut to
ward off the bright； late…morning sun。 ？Summer is right around the corner。？
Nate pressed his knuckles into his closed eyelids to keep the tears from streaming down his
cheeks。 He could blame it on the sun； or he could blame it on being dragged along to a trunk show
with a girl； but the truth was that lately he？d been； crying a lot。 It was the end of their senior year；
and he was with Serena； the girl he？d loved forever？kind of。 It was like he was finally tasting the
meal he？d been looking at under glass all those years。 He wanted to savor it； but everyone else
was eating so quickly； there wasn？t time。 And there was also this nagging feeling that he？d
ordered the wrong thing。
Wait； doesn？t he mean the wrong girl？
？Should I be worried about one of your girlfriends in there stealing something？？ Darwin asked。
He pulled a silvery blue cell phone out of his pants pocket； scrolled through a few text messages
on the screen； then stuffed the phone back in his pocket。