gossip girl 10 英文-第24部分

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him　and　Serena。　And　Nate　liked　to　talk　about　bras。　He　was　genuinely　curious　about；　for　instance；　
what　the　purpose　of　an　underwire　was；　or　why　some　bras　fastened　in　front　and　some　fastened　in　
back。　It　was　a　big　turn…on　for　him；　obviously；　but　it　was　also　sort　of　sweet。　He　was　a　lonely　only　
child；　craving　sisterhood。　

　Right。　

She　decided　to　leave　the　bra　on　for　Nate？s　sake；　hiding　the　whole　ensemble　under　her　favorite　
belted　black　cashmere　Loro　Piana　cardigan；　which　would　e　off　the　minute　she　stepped　into　his　
well…heated　town　house。　Maybe；　just　maybe；　the　sight　of　her　hot　pink　bra　would　be　the　thing　to　
make　Nate　realize　that　he？d　been　in　love　with　her　just　as　long　as　she？d　been　in　love　with　him。

　Maybe。　

She　opened　her　bedroom　door　and　yelled　down　the　long　hall　and　across　the　East　Seventy…second　
Street　penthouse？s　vast　expanse　of　period　furniture；　parquet　floors；　crown　moldings；　and　French　
Impressionist　paintings。　？Mom！　Dad？　I？m　going　over　to　Nate？s　house！　Serena　and　I　are　spending　
the　night！？　

When　there　was　no　reply；　she　clomped　her　way　to　her　parents？　huge　master　suite　in　her　noisy　
Kors　wooden…heeled　sheepskin　clogs；　opened　their　bedroom　door；　and　made　a　beeline　for　her　


mom？s　dressing　room。　Eleanor　Waldorf　kept　a　tall　stack　of　crisp　emergency　twenties　in　her　
lingerie　drawer　for　Blair　and　her　ten…year…old　brother；　Tyler；　to　parse　from？　for　taxis；　cappuccinos；　
and；　in　Blair？s　case；　the　occasional　much…needed　pair　of　Manolo　Blahnik　heels。　Twenty；　forty；　
sixty；　eighty；　one　hundred。　Twenty；　forty；　sixty；　eighty；　two　hundred。　Blair　counted　out　the　bills；　
folding　them　neatly　before　stuffing　them　into　the　back　pocket　of　her　peg…legged　Seven　jeans。　

？If　I　were　a　cabernet；？　Blair？s　father？s　dramatically　playful　lawyer？s　voice　echoed　out　of　the　
adjoining　dressing　room；　？how　would　you　describe　my　bouquet？？

　Excusez…moi？　

Blair　clomped　out　of　her　mom？s　dressing　room　and　reached　for　the　chocolate　brown　velvet　
curtain　hanging　in　the　doorway　of　her　dad？s。　？If　you　guys　are　in　there　together；　like；　doing　it　while　
I？m　home；　then　that？s　really　gross；？　she　declared　flatly。　？Anyway；　I？m　going　over　to　Nate？s；　so？？　

Her　father；　Harold　J。　Waldorf；　Esquire；　pulled　aside　the　velvet　curtain；　dressed　in　his　cashmere　
tweed　Paul　Smith　bathrobe　and　nothing　else；　his　nicely　tanned；　handsome　face　looking　slightly　
flushed。　？Mom？s　out　looking　at　dishes　for　the　Guggenheim　benefit。　I　thought　you　were　out。　Where　
are　you　going　exactly？？　

Blair　stared　at　him。　He　wasn？t　holding　a　phone；　and　if　her　mom　was　out；　then　who　the　fuck　had　
he　just　been　talking　to？　She　stood　blinking　at　him　with　her　hands　on　her　hips；　tempted　to　peek　
inside　his　dressing　room　to　see　who　he　was　hiding　in　there。　

Does　she　really　want　to　know？　

Instead；　she　stumbled　out　of　the　master　suite；　clomped　her　way　across　the　penthouse；　grabbed　her　
blood　orange？　colored　Jimmy　Choo　treasure　chest　hobo；　and　ran　for　the　elevator。　

Outside　it　was　breathtakingly　cold；　and　fat　flakes　fell　at　random。　Usually　she　walked　the　twelve　
blocks　to　Nate？s　house；　but　today　Blair　had　no　patience　for　walking？she　had　just　discovered　that　
her　father　was　a　lying；　cheating　scum…bag；　after　all；　and　a　cab　was　waiting　for　her　downstairs。　Or　
rather；　a　cab　was　waiting　for　Mrs。　Solomon　in　4A；　but　when　the　hunter　green　uniform？clad　
doorman　saw　the　terrifying　look　on　Blair？s　normally　pretty　face；　he　let　her　take　it。　

Besides；　hailing　cabs　in　the　snow　was　probably　the　high…light　of　his　day。　

The　stone　walls　bordering　Central　Park　were　blanketed　in　snow。　A　tall；　elderly　woman　and　her　
Yorkshire　terrier；　dressed　in　matching　red　Chanel　quilted　coats　with　matching　black　velvet　bows　in　
their　white　hair；　crossed　Seventy…second　Street　and　entered　the　Ralph　Lauren　flagship　store。　
Blair？s　cab　hurtled　recklessly　up　Madison　Avenue；　past　Agn？s　B。　and　Williams…Sonoma　and　the　
Three　Guys　coffee　shop；　where　all　the　Constance　Billard　girls　gathered　after　school；　and　finally　
pulled　up　to　Nate？s　town　house。　


？Let　me　in！？　she　yelled　into　the　inter　outside　the　Archibalds？　elegant　wrought…iron…and…glass　
front　door　as　she　swatted　the　buzzer　over　and　over　with　her　hand。　

oh；　the　places　you？ll　go！　

　？Okay。？　Vanessa　sighed；　kneeling　on　the　fifth…floor　play…room　carpet　of　the　James…Morgan　
family？s　Park　Avenue　town　house。　？Let？s　just　do　one　final　bag　check　and　then　we　are　out　of　here。　
Ready？？　

？Ready！？　Nils　and　Edgar　screamed　in　unison。　They　were　twins　and　so　they　did　pretty　much　
everything　in　unison；　whether　it　was　spilling　cranberry　juice　on　their　mother？s　antique　ivory　
silk？upholstered　armchairs　or　screeching　at　the　top　of　their　lungs　（probably　to　remind　their　mother　
that　they　indeed　existed）。　They　were　adorable　in　their　own　way；　but　that　way　was　particularly　hard　
to　see　when　you　were　responsible　for　wiping　their　various　body　parts　and　making　sure　they　got　
through　the　day　with　those　body　parts　intact　and　unharmed。　And　that　was　exactly　the　position　in　
which　Vanessa　found　her…self。　She？d　been　fired　from　her　first　serious　Hollywood　gig　as　the　
cinematographer　onBreakfast　at　Fred？s；　and　in　a　moment　of　personal　and　financial　desperation；　
she？d　signed　on　to　be　a　nanny。　

Also；　she？d　been　drunk　at　the　time。　Obviously。　

It　was　almost　too　depressing　to　consider　that　two　weeks　ago　she？d　been　in　private　rehearsals　in　a　
major　movie　star？s　suite　in　the　Chelsea　Hotel；　doing　what　she　loved　best；　and　now　she　was　in　a　
slightly　Edwardian　attic　nursery　in　Carnegie　Hill　with　a　grape　jelly　stain　on　her　Levi？s　and　two　
snot…nosed　boys　somersaulting　at　her　feet；　while　the　movie？s　stars　were　sunning　themselves　on　the　
beach；　only　a　few　miles　away；　in　the　Hamptons。　Not　that　she　was　much　of　a　star…fucker；　but　still。　

？Here　we　go。Tissues？？Vanessa　asked。　

？Yay！？　cried　the　twins；　brandishing　two　Kleenex　bundles。　They　flung　them　into　the　
pink…and…green　Lilly　Pulitzer　tote　bag。　

　？Snack　bags？？　

？Yay！？　They　whipped　in　two　little　plastic　baggies　filled　with　cheddar　cheese　goldfish　crackers。　

　？Juice　boxes？？　

　？Yay！？　

？Don？t　throw　them！？　Vanessa　immediately　recalled　the　pink　stains　she？d　tried　so　hard　to　scrub　


out　of　the　antique　chairs。　

？Throw　what？？　Allison　Morgan？also　known　asMs。　？　strode　purposefully　up　the　narrow　wooden　
stairs　and　into　the　sun…drenched　playroom；　her　snakeskin　Jimmy　Choo　stiletto　slingbacks　clacking　
on　the　blond　parquet。　

？Mommy！？　The　boys　abandoned　their　day…trip　bag　and　threw　themselves　face…first　into　the　ivory　
boucl？　of　her　knee…length　Chanel　pencil　skirt。　

？Packing　up　for　an　outing？？　Ms。　Morgan　asked　in　an　？ber…fake；　high…pitched　tone；　backing　away　
from　the　twins。　

Very　perceptive；　Mom。　

？Thought　we？d　head　to　the　Central　Park　Zoo　today；？　Vanessa　explained。　

？Oh　dear；？　clucked　Allison。　？Central　Park？　You　remember　what　happened　last　time。？　

Of　course　Vanessa　remembered：　she？d　never　forget　the　sight　of　Dan　in　neon　yellow　kneepads　and　
Rollerblades；　hand　in　hand　with　another　girl。　A　long…haired；　spandex…clad；　horrifically　perky　girl。　
It　had　been　so　hilariously　bizarre　and　so　pletely　heartbreaking。　Smoking　a　cigarette；　scruffy　
rock　star　hair　matted；　dirty　T…shirt；　long…to…the…point…of…ridiculous　puke…colored　cords？thatwas　the　
Dan　Humphrey　she　knew。　

　And　loved？　

But　of　course　that？s　not　what　Vanessa？s　militant　new　boss　was　referring　to。　She　meant　that　the　
twins　had　ruined　their　clothes　eating　Fudgsicles　and　stayed　up　half　the　night　yelling；　？Fudgie…poo！？　
because　of　the　sugar。　

　But　Vanessa　couldn？t　stop　thinking　about　Dan。　Things　were　kind　of　back　to　normal　now。　
Oralmost　normal。　Maybe　it　was　just　from　lack　of　sleep；　or　the　fact　that　she　was　so　relieved　that　
he？d　ditched　the　blond　yoga…toned　health…nut　bombshell　and　the　old　Dan　was　back；　but　damn；　that　
morning　in　the　kitchen　Vanessa　had　barely　been　able　to　resist　kissing　him。　He　just　looked　so　sweet；　
gulping　bad　coffee　from　that　lumpy　mug；　sleep　crusties　still　stuck　in　his　eyes。　It　almost　felt　。　。　。　
natural；　the　way　she？d　always　pictured　their　life　together。　Except　theyweren？t　together。　They　were　
just　。。。friends。　And　she　probably　didn？t　want　to　do　anything　to　ruin　that；　like　bury　her　nose　in　his　
warm；　delicious；　stale…cigarette…smelling　hair。　No；　she　absolutely　did　not。　

　Liar。　

？Listen；　Vanessa；　I？m　glad　I　caught　you。？　The　sound　of　Allison？s　raspy；　
too…much…chardonnay…last…night　voice　snapped　Vanessa　back　to　earth。　？Were　heading　to　our　place　
in　Amagansett　in　a　few　days。　The　city？s　just　so　unbearably　hot；　and　the　boys　do　so　love　the　


beach。？　

？The　beach！？　screamed　Nils　and　Edgar；　in　unison　of　course；　taking　the　announcement　as　their　
cue　to　race　all　over　the　playroom　in　a　frenzy。　

？You　see　how　excited　they　are　already；？　Ms。　Morgan　observed。　？Anyway；　what　do　you　say？　
We？ve　got　an　extra　suite　in　the　top　wing　of　the　house？very　fortable；　very　private。　You？d　spend　
days　with　the　boys　and　be　free　to　go　at；　say；　sixish；　when　they　sit　down　to　have　their　dinner。Your　
pay　would　remain　the　same　of　course。？　

Vanessa　considered　the　situation：　there　she　was；　filling　an　offensively　preppy　tote　bag　with　juice　
and　crackers　while　two　little　micromaniacs　raced　around　her；　yelping　about　the　waves。　What　did　
she　have　to　look　forward　to？　Another　night　staring　at　the　crack　in　the　ceiling　of　Jenny？s　room；　
which　still　smelled　like　paintbrush　cleaner；　wondering　what　Dan　was　doing　on　the　other　side　of　the　
wall；　fantasizing　about　the　taste　of　his　warm　coffee…and…cigarette…breath　kisses？　

She　hated　the　sun；　didn？t　even　own　a　bathing　suit；　and　basically　despised　everything　about　the　
beach　and　the　tan；　half…naked；　thoroughly　annoying　people　who　glommed　to　it。　But　her　life　sucked　
just　enough　right　now　that　it　actually　sounded　。　。　。　not　so　bad。　

？Amagansett；？　Vanessa　pronounced　slowly；　like　it　was　a　disease；　or　a　genital　area；　or　a　Far　
Eastern　country　she？d　never　heard　of　before。　？That　sounds　lovely。？　

Oh；　it　is　lovely。　But　only　under　the　right　circumstances。　

？　

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