they see you in maga…zines。？
But they don？t get to enjoy intimate dinners with him； poor babies。
？I mean； my name？s not even Thaddeus； for Christ？s sake。？
？What do you mean？？ she asked； confused。
？It？s Tim。 My agent thought it should be something catchier。？
？I guess it worked。？ Serena nodded； wondering suddenly if she shouldn？t changeher name。 It
might be good for her career。
Yeah； Serena van der Woodsen isn？t catchy at all。
He dug into his pocket and pulled out a soft pack of Parliament Lights。 ？At least it？s quiet here；？
he said； lighting up。
That？s right。 You？re safe； right here； with me。？No photographers here；？ Serena giggled。 ？Just the
two of us。？
？Working on our chemistry；？ Thaddeus laughed。 ？Our homework。 Chemistry homework； get it？？
Better stick to the script； dude。
It was easily the best homework assignment Serena had ever been given； and she was sure she
was acing it。 The question was how to nuzzle up to him but make it clear she wasn？t rehearsing。
She wanted to make sure he saw her as Serena and not Holly； and that he could distinguish the
fake kisses from the real thing。
？Hello； again；？ came a voice from above them。 It was Jason； her downstairs neighbor； wearing a
navy pinstripe suit。 His blue…and…yellow…striped tie was loose around his neck and the collar of his
white oxford shirt was unbuttoned。 She hadn？t seen him since he？d e to her rescue her first
day in the apartment； and she？d actually sort of forgotten about him。
？Hi； Jason。？ Serena wanted to be polite but she honestly hoped he？d just disappear。 He was
friendly and cute but she and Thaddeus had homework to do。
？What？s up？？ Thaddeus put on that same； friendly； flirty tone he used on the talk show circuit。
He extended a hand to Jason but remained perched on the stoop。 ？I？m Thaddeus。？
Jason came down the steps。 ？I was just getting my mail。 Hey； I？m Jason。？ He gave Thaddeus？s
hand a firm shake。 ？Nice to meet you。？
？Pull up a step；？ Thaddeus joked； scooting over a little。 ？There？s plenty of room。？
？Or we could go upstairs to my place and get a drink；？ Serena suggested hopefully。
？Why don？t I just grab some beers？？ Jason offered。 ？I？ve got some inside。 Then we don？t have
to bother with all those stairs。？
？Excellent。 I kind of like it right here。 Nice breeze。 Good pany。？Thaddeus grinned at Serena。
？Me too。？ She smiled back； even though she？d much rather have been upstairs and alone with
him。 If he wanted a breeze； she could always open a window。
Jason lived on the parlor floor； so it only took him a minute to dash inside and fetch three cold
bottles of Heineken。
？Thanks。？ Thaddeus sighed as he cracked the top and tossed the cap onto the next step。
？Long day？？ asked Jason。
？Seriously；？Thaddeus agreed。？What do you do？？
？I？m a summer associate at Lowell； Bonderoff； Foster and Wallace；？ Jason explained before
taking a long swig。 A car honked loudly in the street。 Serena looked at her watch。 This
conversation was really quite riveting； but frankly； she？d rather be soaking in a Bliss salt…and…sage
bubble bath。
？They？re my lawyers！？ Thaddeus exclaimed excitedly； like Jason was the most interesting guy
he？d ever met。 ？You don？t know Sam； do you？？
？I knowof him；？ Jason replied。 ？He？s a partner over in the LA office； right？？
A gentle breeze lifted Thaddeus？s messy hair off his fore…head。 ？He？s a real pit bull。 God； I
remember one time I was having this contract dispute with a studio and？？
？It？s a small world。？ Serena yawned and pointed her ballet…slippered toes。
？Here？s to a small world。？ Thaddeus lifted his bottle and clinked it against Jason？s and then
Serena？s。
She chugged the entire contents of her beer and inched a little closer to Thaddeus。 Even if their
conversation was deathly boring； she knew she was in the presence of two sweet young gentlemen
who would probably carry her up four flights of stairs to her apartment if she happened to drink
too much and couldn？t walk。
After all； she？s always depended on the kindness of strangers。
the runaway bride
Blair Waldorf burst into the lobby of Claridge？s like a woman on a mission； which was exactly
what she was。 She had to get back to her suite and sift through the packages she？d had delivered。
She was particularly interested in revisiting the show…stopping wedding gown that had been her
week？s biggest quarry： at ten thousand pounds it was a splurge； even for her； but it was so perfect
that it was worth every penny； and Blair knew her mother would agree。 And if she didn？t； Blair
knew her father； Harold J。 Waldorf； would： he was a fabulous gay man living the high life in the
south of France。 If anyone understood the thrill of finding the perfect wedding dress； he would。
She？d been meaning to schedule a weekend rendezvous with her dear old dad in Paris？surely it
was time for Marcus to meet her parents？ It was only a couple of hours away by the Chunnel； and
it would beso fun to take a romantic train ride with her boyfriend and leave cousin Camilla behind。
As she marched through the lobby； she spied the concierge standing behind her neat little
desk。Perfect； Blair thought。 She could haveher make the arrangements！ Blair stormed across the
marble tiles to where the woman stood； scribbling notes in some sort of leather…bound ledger。
？I need some assistance；？ Blair ordered。 ？Tickets to Paris。？
？Madam！ Ms。 er； Beaton…Rhodes？？ asked the concierge； a short； prim Asian woman sporting
circular John Lennon？type glasses and a nononsense bob。
？It？sMiss Waldorf； actually；？ Blair corrected her。
Not Mrs。yet。
？Yes； of course；？ the concierge apologized。 ？Madam； I？m just confirming your reservation for
another week。 Is that accurate？？
？Sure； sure。？ Blair waved her hand。 She had business to attend to。 ？Like I was saying； I want to
go to Paris。 Like； immediately。？
？That？s fine； then。 I？ll just need a credit card。 For the room charge。？
？Can you just bill Lord Marcus？？ Blair asked； irritated。 ？He？s handling the whole thing。？
？I see；？ nodded the concierge； making a note in her little leather notebook。 ？And will his
Lordship be visiting soon？ We？ll need him to sign。？
？I？m not sure；？ admitted Blair。 She was on her way to set up the perfect romantic
evening？lingerie； champagne； the whole thing？but technically she hadn？t spoken to him all day； so
he didn？t even know that they had a date。
？Well； I？m afraid we？re going to need to schedule a time for his Lordship to drop by and sign the
papers；？ the concierge replied firmly。
？Fine；？ snapped Blair。 ？I？ll figure out a time。？
A group of Italian tourists meandered by； randomly snapping pictures of Blair while she fumed。
？Well； Miss 。 。 。？
？Waldorf；？she repeated。
？Miss Waldorf； we？ll need to have that signature on the bill by tomorrow； or I？m afraid we？re
going to have to release the suite。 Wedo have an interested party。？
？Fine；？ Blair replied icily。 ？I？ll call him right now。？ Blair dug out her telephone and selected the
only number in her speed dial。 Lord Marcus？s phone rang and； as she could have predicted； there
was no answer。 She opted not to leave a message。 She？d already left three that day。 She didn？t
want him to think she was insane。
Like buying a wedding dress is sane？
？He？s not answering；？ Blair informed the concierge。 ？He？s very busy at work right now； but I？m
sure I？ll hear from him tonight。 I？ll arrange for him to e by and settle the whole matter；
okay？？
It had only been a few days； but Blair had already lapsed into a Madonna…like English accent；
clipping certain consonants and using phrases like ？the whole matter。？
？That？s fine。？ The concierge nodded。 ？Just do remember that he？ll have to sign the bill by
tomorrow or we？ll be obliged to release the room。 I do hope he？ll find a moment to get away from
his wife and e by。？
？Excuse me？？ Blair demanded。
？I？m sorry？？ the concierge replied snottily。
？What。 Did。 You。 Say？？ Blair could feel the tips of her ears glowing red with fury。 For a moment
she forgot about the dress waiting for her upstairs in her luxurious suite。 She forgot about the maid；
who would happily mix Blair whatever drink she requested as soon as she walked in。 She forgot
about the inroom massage she？d been itching for。 She forgot about Paris。
？I believe I said； I hope he？ll find a moment to get away from his life and e by；？ the
concierge answered sweetly。
？You did not；？ Blair whispered tightly； leaning across the counter； her voice very quiet。 ？You
saidwife 。？
？I？m sure you misunderstood；？ the concierge replied。
？Well； I？m sureyou misunderstood！？ Blair shouted。 She had never been shy。 ？I heard what you
said。？
？Yes； ma？am。 Of course。 I？ll just need to have his Lordship pop by to sign the papers and the
matter will be settled。？
？He？s not married。 She？s hiscousin ；？ Blair went on。 ？And I？m his girlfriend。？ She was
practically shouting。 On the other side of the lobby the Italians turned to look。
The concierge blushed deeply。 ？If we can just keep our voices down。？
？Fuck that。？ Blair had had it with England； with everyone？s polite prattle； with the British
insistence on quiet dignity。 Blair wasn？t interested in quiet or in dignity。 Fuck this bitch； fuck
Britain； fuck Lord Marcus and fuck his horsey cousin Camilla。 She suddenly wanted nothing more
than to be home。 ？You know what？ I don？t want the room。 I want you to call British fucking
Airways and book me a ticket immediately。 One way； first class。 To New York。？ Blair dug into her
bag and found her black American Express card； which she tossed onto the desk angrily。
？One way to New York； first class；？ repeated the concierge。 ？Virgin has flights at eleven daily。
I？ll see if we can get you a seat。？
Virgin。 How appropriate。 Not。
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ABC Amber LIT Converter v2。02
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Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events have been altered or abbreviated to
protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
I？m sure some of you have seen it； and I bet you couldn？tbelieve it any more than I could。 There
I was； happily traipsingdown Madison Avenue； in search of some new washed…cottonbeach
cover…ups when what do I see？ The worst sign ever：Closed。 Closed？ It？s not what you think
though： it seems thatBarneys？ creative director and dandy…about…town； GrahamOliver； is besties
with a certain fashion…inept indie auteur andagreed to close up shop for a few days so the cameras
can roll。
I just hope they reopen on schedule： the word is a certain star…let？s debut performance might
need a bit of tweaking。 Things areso grim； in fact； they？re shooting every scene she doesn？t
appearin first； in hopes that all her practice finally makes perfect。
Now that Barneys is closed for a while； I？m thinking of leavingtown for good？no more of this
popping back and forth oncharter jets and helicopters。 I know I said that things don？t getcooking
in the Hamptons for a while； yet？I usually wait until theFourth of July to hunker down for the
season？but I？ve beeng