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her stomach and kicked her own butt with the heels of her green Marc Jacobs jellies.
    “Puh-lease! I’m here to relax.” Massie slammed her froth-streaked glass down on the teak pool deck. “Summer jobs are for LBRs who miss doing homework.”
    “
I
have a summer job.” Kimmi pushed herself up.
    “You mean a
jobby,
right?” Massie assumed.
    “What’s a jobby?” Lindsey asked with an amused grin.
    “A job-hobby. Like making jewelry in your bedroom and selling it to a local boutique.” Massie screwed off the top of her Blueberry Pie–flavored Glossip Girl and smeared it across her suddenly very dry lips. “Something you do for fun,
nawt
money.”
    “Um, no.” Kimmi grabbed her recycled newspaper clutch and stood. “I work in the SAT kiosk at the beach club . . . for
    money.
”
    Massie stared at her blankly.
    “You know, ‘Sunscreen and Towels’?”
    “Oh, sorry.” Massie smirked.
    “It’s okay.” She softened. “Only in-the-know staffers call it that.”
    “No.” Massie looked at Lindsey with a devious smile. “Sorry you
work
there.”
    Lindsey gasp-covered her mouth in shock.
    “Glad you
don’t
!” Kimmi shouted, then stormed off in a huff.
    Massie sighed. “That’s why I don’t work. It stresses everyone out. And life was meant to be enjoyed.” She lifted her palm, expecting an I-totally-agree high five from her new beta. But Lindsey left her hanging and flip-flopped away to comfort-chase Kimmi.
    And that left Massie alone with Ellie, her pre-teen B-cups, and the desperate need for this miserable day to end.
    THE BLOCKS’ SOUTHAMPTON ESTATE
    MASSIE’S BEDROOM
    Tuesday, June 9
1:17 P.M.
    Massie checked her butt in the mahogany-framed mirror by her bedroom door. “What do you think, Bean?” She rested a hand on one hip. “I found this old Diane von Furstenberg bikini in Mom’s vintage closet yesterday. Thank Gawd she did the Atkins diet a few years ago. It’s totally my size!”
    Bean poked her pudgy head out of the just-for-show mosquito netting draped over Massie’s king-size canopy bed.
    “The burnt orange is unflattering
now,
but after five days of tanning I’ll be ready to show it off at the beach club.” She turned away from her pale, albeit toned, riding camp legs with renewed hope.
    After sleeping for thirteen hours on her luxurious Duxiana mattress, Massie was starting to feel more like herself again. Her alpha battery had been recharged and her summer plan set.
    Week one: Clear up credit card issues. Tan and rest poolside.
    Week two: Hit the beach club. Recruit summer GLUs in need of an alpha and a good time.
    Week three: Shop and spa with S-GLUs.
    Week four: Yacht day trips with S-GLUs. DVD rentals and sleepovers at night.
    Week five through Labor Day: Combine activities from weeks three and four.
    Labor Day: Say goodbye to S-GLUs and hello to the Pretty Committee (yay x 10) September 8—Look ah-mazing for eighth grade.
    It was a lot less action-packed than her schedule at riding camp. But maybe her termination from Galwaugh was a sign from Gawd, His way of telling her to take a load off and pamper herself for a change.
    Someone rapped on her door. Massie reached for last year’s silver-and-white sarong and wrapped it around her mother’s off-limits bikini.
    “You finally awake?” Kendra entered dressed in her post-party recovery outfit: lavender-scented lilac Frette robe, matching slippers filled with self-heating rejuvenation pearls, and a copper wire anti-hangover bracelet. Her face was shellacked with a potent cocktail of moisturizers reserved for those rare makeup-free days. She looked like a drawing of a woman in a coloring book, waiting to be filled in and brought to life.
    “I have one question for you, Massie.” Kendra folded her arms, one slippered foot tapping the beige sisal rug.
    “Me first!” Massie padded over to her green apple–colored velvet chaise. Before sitting, she cranked the window open, inviting the salty ocean breeze to work its magic