Read Nobody Does It Better for Free Online Page B

of the three Bs: Bendel's, Berfdorf's, or Barneys.
    “Want to come see what Tyler
     's found out about our islands?” Aaron offered. “he's downloading a whole bunch of stuff right now.”
    “The man I spoke to said the temperature on the islands is consistently between seventy-five and eighty-five degrees all year round,” Eleanor added gleefully. She glanced at her gold Cartier chain-link wristwatch. “Phooey. I'm five minutes late for my Red Door makeup appointment.” She giggled conspiratorially and clapped her hands together like a little girl. “Cyrus is taking me out to the four seasons tonight. I can't wait to surprise him with his present.”
    Blair didn't even want to think about what her mom could have dreamed up to buy Cyrus. A whole country?
    “I'll probably be back to pick up a few things,” she informed her mother. “And we're definitely need a new mattress, pillows, and sheets for this room. But I'm not sure if I'll even be coming back, you know, to live.”
    Eleanor blinked dazedly at her daughter. After seventeen and a half years of being Blair's mother, she still didn't quite know what to make of her.
    “Just in case there's a civil war on your island or you new shipment of French underwear comes in, exactly where might you be reached?” Aaron demanded with an annoying wise-assed smirk.
    Blair smirked back. “The Plaza?”
    And preferably a suite.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Gossip Girl 07 - Nobody Does It Better
    N IS EASILY LED OUT TO SEA
     
    The roof terrace atop Nate's four-storey town house wasn't high enough for a real view, but it was still nice to sit up there and suck hits out of Jeremy's giant green glass bong and reminisce about all the wild shit they'd gotten up to when they were young and carefree- before they had stuff to worry about like college and future.
    As if they were worried.
    “Dude. Remember that time in Latin when you were so baked you thought you were in French?” Charlie Dern drawled, blowing smoke out of a tiny gap in the side of his wide, clownish mouth. “You were just babbling in French like a fucking lunatic and Mr. Herman the she-man was like, ”I beg your pardon, Mr. Archibald. Although all romance languages find their roots in Latin, I never did master French."
    Anthony Avuldsen and Jeremy Scott Tompkinson began to crackle as they remembered that legendary day.
    “I was speaking fucking perfect French, too,” Nate observed. “I think maybe for a moment there I thought I was French. Like a native speaker.”
    “Right,” Charlie agreed sarcastically. “Man, you know you could barely even talk.”
    Lexie floated by in her tie-dyed dress, barefoot and waving her hands in front of her face. "She'd drawn flowers on her fingers and toes with a glow-in -the-dark pen she'd found on Nate's desk, and they glowed neon green in the deepening twilight. A ponytailed boy named Malcolm was playing the guitar and singing an ancient James Taylor song.
    'You just call out my naaaame
    And you know where ever I aaam
    I'll come runnin' to see you again.'
    “I wish we were all at the beach.” Jeremy sighed and traced his index finger along the rim of the bong. “Everything would be perfect if we were at the beach.”
    Nate nodded his golden brown head in agreement. “We will be soon. My parents' Hamptons
     booze cruise is in a couple weeks. Boat's already docked down in Battery Park. You're coming right?”
    The junior boys on the roof terrace looked up, wondering hopefully if Nate was addressing them.
    Fat chance.
    “Everyone's coming,” Anthony Avuldsen responded, making the juniors feel like even worse dweebs. “It's like the kick-off to the whole freaking summer.”
    “Blair's class is doing their senior cut day the next day,” Nate mused. He realized vaguely that Blair had never made an appearance on the roof terrace. Maybe, she was still in the shower, or maybe she'd kissed him good-bye and gone home? He honestly couldn't remember. If she was still in