Confessions of a Teen Nanny 01 - Confessions of a Teen Nanny (3 page)

"I'm glad you caught that. I put it in deliberately."

Adrienne looked at her. This little girl is a piece of work, she thought. Testing me?

"Piano, Emma. Now," Adrienne said.

Emma rolled her eyes and went into the living room with Adrienne behind her.

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Adrienne swallowed as she looked around the room. The ceilings were high, and the tall windows overlooked Central Park. They were hung with long, cream-colored satin curtains, through which the afternoon light shone. The furniture was gilded, and obviously expensive. It looked like the kind of stuff in palaces in old movies--and there was a lot of it. I'll bet you could have fifty people in this room, Adrienne thought, and they'd all have a place to sit. By the window sat a huge black piano that gleamed.Adrienne couldn't imagine that Emma's hands were big enough to play it.

With a sigh, Emma sat down at the piano.

If I have to listen to scales every day . . . , Adrienne thought. She shook her head and reminded herself, It's only for two weeks. Suddenly, Emma began to play.

Adrienne's mouth opened. Emma was a genius.

Her fingers ran up and down the keyboard with sur- prising speed and agility. Adrienne had taken piano lessons for years, yet she had never gotten anywhere near as good. I can't believe this girl is only eight! she thought. I think I'm going to quit the piano.

Emma leaned into the keys, coaxing the beautiful Mozart piece from the instrument. Finishing with a flour- ish, Emma turned to Adrienne with a slightly anxious expression."Can I watch Oprah now?" she asked."Please? "

"Oprah it is," Adrienne said.

32 I S T H I S K I D F O R R E A L ?

Emma beamed, and leaped from the piano seat. She raced back to the kitchen, and Adrienne followed her. Tania was waiting for them and had plates with cookies and glasses of milk ready. The theme music for Oprah came on, and Emma turned to Adrienne, grinning.

"Adrienne!" she cried. "Incredible weight-loss make- overs! Have a cookie and sit down--these are the best. Tania always cries."

"Big people get skinny and beautiful. Break my heart, I so happy for them,"Tania said, nodding.

Adrienne joined them on the sofa. Bisquit came in and seemed surprised to see her still there. He jumped onto the sofa between Adrienne and Emma, who ignored him.

Adrienne gave Bisquit a piece of her cookie, and he looked at her adoringly through moist eyes.

Well, well, Adrienne thought. It looks like I'm going to get along just fine. She glanced around at the incredible room. I can't believe how much money they must have, she thought. Liz never mentioned that this was like a palace! Adrienne settled back into the soft suede-covered sofa. I think I could get used to it here!

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CHAPTER FOUR

perfect in Prada

A fter Oprah, Emma was served dinner. She ate early because her mother liked her in bed early. After dinner, she began to get nervous. "It's almost seven," she said. "My mother will be coming soon.You'd better get me into my bath. She'll freak out if I'm not in there."

"What time will she get home?" Adrienne asked.

Emma gave her a blank look. "She is home. She's in her room."

Adrienne blinked."She's been in her room this whole time?"

"Of course," Emma said. "She needs her rest."

What is up with these people? Adrienne thought. No interview, and leaving me here alone with her servants and her child? This is really weird. Adrienne tried not to look too surprised. "Thanks for the clue," she said. "Do you need me to help you in there, or can I just run the bath for you?"

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"Just run it. I use lavender soap. Not too hot," Emma instructed.

"You got it," she said, turning to go to Emma's bath- room.

"Oh, Adrienne?" Emma said.

"Yes?" she replied.

"That green sweater? My mother hates green. You need to change your sweater."

"Are you serious?" Adrienne asked.

"Very serious. My mom has fired people over less."

I can't piss off Mrs.Warner right away, Adrienne thought. But who goes berserk over a color?

"Hurry! You can borrow something from my half- sister," Emma said.

"Okay," Adrienne said reluctantly. "But will she mind if I borrow her clothes?"

"Mind?" Emma said. "She'll never even know."

Adrienne followed Emma down the hall, where they could just hear Tania and Mrs. Warner murmuring in the entryway.

The two girls slipped into Cameron's room.

Adrienne looked around. Like Emma's room, Cameron's had a huge window overlooking Central Park and the skyline. Unlike Emma's, the room was for no little girl. Stark and modern, Cameron's room looked like what Adrienne imagined a movie star's bedroom would be. On

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every wall, there were black-and-white fashion photo- graphs of supermodels, most of them signed to Cameron.

"You'd better hurry before my mom finds us," Emma said, opening the door to Cameron's closet.

Adrienne's jaw dropped. It was like walking into an entire boutique at Barneys. Her eyes ran over the dozens of cashmere sweaters, which lined one bank of shelves.

"Quickly," Emma said again."Take that pale gray one. It will look good on you, and Cameron will never miss it. She's so dumb, she won't even notice it's gone. Hurry!"

Worried a bit about taking the sweater, but even more nervous about making the wrong impression on Mrs. Warner, Adrienne grabbed the sweater and followed Emma back down the hall to her room. Emma went to take her bath and left Adrienne alone.

Adrienne took off the green sweater and put it on Emma's bed. She unfolded the gray sweater and noticed the incredible softness of the fabric. She held it up to her body and looked into Emma's dressing mirror.The mirror was short for her so she had to stoop a little. It looks good, she thought.Then, Adrienne noticed the label: Prada.

Oh, wow, Adrienne thought. Prada. I'll bet this sweater costs over a thousand dollars. She sighed. There was no time to risk going back to Cameron's closet. She pulled the sweater over her head.

The sweater fit perfectly, and the pale color brought

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out her green eyes and red hair. Taking a deep breath, she decided it was time to meet Mrs.Warner.

As she stepped out of Emma's room,Adrienne got her first look at her new boss.

Mrs.Warner was very pretty--or had been once. Her skin was beautiful but very tight. Maybe a face-lift? Adrienne thought. Her blond hair was carefully styled, and her nails were manicured perfectly in a pale, natural color. She wore a pink Chanel tweed suit with black bows on it and stood on impossibly high pink and black shoes that showed off her gorgeous long legs. Finally, around her neck were the largest black and white pearls that Adrienne had ever seen. She couldn't even believe that they were real.

"Here she is," Tania said. "Miss Emma like her, and me, too."

"Adriana, how very nice to meet you," Mrs. Warner said, extending her hand. "We are so glad to have you on board. We've had such trouble with nannies." She smiled prettily. "I'm sure Tania has told you everything."

"Not really," Adrienne replied. Mrs. Warner seemed nice. "But my name is Adrienne."

"Oh, of course, dear. I'm so sorry. I've lost my head. Well, we are expecting a nanny in two weeks from London. We have the hardest time with the help here, and we can't have just anyone; as you can tell, Emma is a very special child. She needs someone very qualified. So when I asked

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Dr. Markham-Collins if she knew anyone, and she recom- mended you, well, that was good enough for me."

Adrienne smiled. What on earth did Liz say about me? she wondered.

"Now, tell me about yourself," Mrs.Warner said.

"Well, I'm in high school. I've done lots of baby- sitting before--in my building or for friends of my parents. My parents are both professors at Columbia University. I'm an only child--"

"Great," Mrs.Warner said. "Let me just tell you every- thing about our little family.You won't really need to know all this, but I just want you to feel informed. No surprises." Mrs.Warner smiled."Why don't you come into my office? We can chat there."

Adrienne followed Mrs. Warner through the apart- ment. She barely had time to look around. Mrs. Warner spoke so quickly, and seemed to want to tell her everything about their family before they even made it to her office.

"Mr.Warner works late and leaves early.You probably will never even see him, but you might see his son, Graydon. Gray is at Columbia, but he's always stopping by to eat the food or use the computer." She looked at Adrienne carefully. "He's not my son. He's from the first Mrs. Warner. The first Mrs. Warner was someone my hus- band met in college.After Mr.Warner made his money, she divorced him and kept the house, their friends, and the

38 P E R F E C T I N P R A D A

bank accounts. He had nothing! I tell you."

"I see," Adrienne said.

"Well, it took him years, and I mean years, to make the money back, and then who does he meet?"

"You?" Adrienne asked.

"No, dear, sadly for him. He met the second Mrs. Warner. She is Cameron's mother. A supermodel. From nowhere. I mean, she was practically a . . . never mind. Anyway, Cameron is her daughter. Very beautiful. I have high hopes for her.Well, that marriage ended, and now I am the third and final Mrs.Warner.We had Emma eight years ago. It's a real love match for us. I have, of course, been trying to make up for lost time. Mr.Warner never cared about the family's social position, so I have to do all the work. The right apartment. The right schools. The right friends. The right charities. And the right nanny," she finished, showing Adrienne into her office, which looked like a room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was full of expensive fur- niture and paintings and many bouquets of flowers. She gestured to a small chair across the desk from her, sat down opposite from Adrienne, and continued talking.

"The children are very busy. Graydon is in his junior year and wants to go to business school. Cameron can't get this modeling bug out of her system. I'd really prefer her to be a debutante and marry someone nice. College is really for other people, don't you think?" she asked, not waiting for an

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answer. "I, myself," she continued, "generally wake up early, have Pilates training, and then a massage in the gym next to my bedroom. Afterward, my personal assistant, hairdresser, makeup artist, and stylist arrive around eight o'clock. I have a little espresso and go over my plans for the day."

Adrienne blinked. That doesn't sound so rough, she thought.

"Then, after some morning phone calls with my char- ities, I generally have a lunch date, and then I come home." Mrs. Warner smiled. "And that is when I really need you, Adriana."

"Adrienne," she insisted.

"Of course you are," Mrs.Warner said, getting up and moving to the door."I need absolute peace and quiet while I rest. I never want to be disturbed. Sometimes I have impor- tant meetings in my office and I can't have interruptions of any kind. So I need a nanny to keep Emma occupied, and sometimes to stay with her in the evening if Mr.Warner and I go out and Tania isn't available. Is that all right with you?"

Adrienne nodded. Doesn't sound too bad, she thought.

"But why has it been so hard for you to find some- one?" she asked.

Mrs. Warner seemed annoyed at the question. "Well, Emma is a prodigy. We're planning for her to begin high school by ten, and to graduate from Harvard at fourteen,

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so that she can devote herself to studying the piano. I need someone here every day for her. Every day."

Every day? Adrienne thought. I thought it was just for two or three days. She thought carefully. I can hang on for two weeks.

Mrs. Warner continued. "Well, that's all you need to know, and here you are for today." She handed her an enve- lope. "We'll see you on Monday, then?"

Yes! Adrienne thought with relief. I got the job, and she didn't bust me for the sweater! "Monday it is," Adrienne replied. "Thank you, Mrs.Warner."

"Oh no, thank you," she replied. "By the way, that's a gorgeous sweater on you. Is it Prada?"

"Yes," Adrienne said, but her mind whirled. Should I admit that I borrowed it? she thought, terrified that Mrs. Warner would recognize it as Cameron's.

"You young girls can get away with those severe cuts. Not me--I need something less hip," she said, turning to model her exquisitely tailored suit that showed her long legs to perfection.

"Oh, I think you could wear anything you wanted to, Mrs.Warner."

"You're a lamb.Thank you." Mrs.Warner led Adrienne out of the office and into the front hall, where they heard the clicking of high heels on the mosaic floor. Mrs.Warner turned to see who it was. "Oh, Cameron!" she exclaimed.

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"I didn't know if you'd be in time to meet the new nanny, Adriana."

Adrienne turned in horror. Oh no, she thought. Now I'm really busted. Adrienne faced Cameron, prepared for the worst.

Cameron Warner was seventeen years old, but she looked far older than that. Five feet ten inches tall, she wore high-heeled Manolo Blahnik boots that pushed her over six feet. She was long and lean, with the scarily thin body required of fashion models. She had long, straight blond hair and perfectly white skin. Cameron posed in the archway with her purple Bergdorf and black Barneys shopping bags.Apparently, for Cameron, the world was her runway.

Cameron gazed right at Adrienne as she sauntered across the hall. She is unbelievably gorgeous, Adrienne admit- ted to herself. It was Cameron's eyes that were the most unusual.They were a pale silvery gray with a hint of aqua, and they held Adrienne's gaze intently. Could they be con- tacts? Adrienne wondered. Cameron wore jeans that fit perfectly and a white cashmere turtleneck. But she wore the simple outfit as if it were the most expensive outfit from Paris. Who knows, Adrienne thought. If this sweater is any indication of what her clothes cost, those may be the most expensive jeans ever.

"Some more shopping, darling?" Mrs. Warner asked.

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"You know that your father asked you to tone it down a bit. Five thousand a month is really enough for school clothes."

Five thousand a month? thought Adrienne. They wear uniforms at their school!

"Whatever, Christine," Cameron said, walking right by Adrienne, dropping her bags on the floor, and scooping up the shaking Bisquit, who had run in. She walked over to her stepmother and they kissed each other, staying well away from each other's makeup. Cameron turned to Adrienne. "Who's this?" she asked.

"This is Emma's new nanny," Mrs.Warner said.

"It is so nice to meet you," Cameron said. "You look so familiar to me! Do you go to Pheasant-Berkeley?"

"No, but my friend Liz Braun does," Adrienne jumped in before remembering Liz's warning.

"Oh, Liz. Right," Cameron said without interest or recognition. "I guess I don't know you, then." She turned to go, and then turned back with a gleam in her eye.

"I guess it's just that sweater. I have one very much like it. But since mine was made especially for me by Miuccia Prada, it can't be. Mine is exactly the same color as my eyes.They custom-dyed the cashmere for me. I wore it to last year's Prada show in Milan." Cameron smiled.

I'm toast, Adrienne thought, and then the realization swept over her: Emma set me up! She knew that Cameron would notice, but she told me she wouldn't! Adrienne waited

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for Cameron to expose her.

"Well, I'll let you two girls get to know each another," Mrs.Warner said."I'm off to meet my husband at the Neue Galerie uptown. You'll make sure Emma gets into bed, won't you,Adriana? She's got to be in bed by eight or she's so crabby when Tania wakes her in the morning. Bye, girls." Mrs.Warner grabbed her purse off the table in the hall and walked into the elevator, which Kane held open for her.

Cameron turned to Adrienne."Okay, what's your real name?"

"What?" asked Adrienne.

"Your real name. My stepmother is hopeless with names. She's famous in New York for forgetting them.The only reason she remembers mine is because it is the name of the town where my father made all his money-- Cameron,Texas."

"How'd he do that?" Adrienne asked.

"Oil," Cameron said without interest. "Your name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Adrienne Lewis." They looked at each other. "I'm so sorry about the sweater. It is yours." Adrienne started to offer an explanation.

"Don't worry. Let me guess. You were in green, right?"

Adrienne nodded. "I never would have borrowed it, but Emma . . . "

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