ation hit and a new； fabulous idea began to form in her head。
After her father had moved out of the penthouse and before he？d left for France to live with his
gay French lover？Jacques or Jean…Claude； or whatever the fuck his name was？he？d camped out at
the Yale Club for a few months。 It was right across the street from Grand Central Station； but；
unlike the old train station； the Yale Club had never really been renovated and still had that
shabbily elegant Old New York vibe。 It was the type of place Blair？s former best friend Serena
would adore； while Blair would normally have preferred a more sumptuously elegant suite at the
Carlyle or one of the city？s other landmark hotels。 But she？d already stayed in a suite at the Plaza；
where she？d been treated like just another well…to…do guest。 At the Yale Club she？d be ？Harold
Waldorf？s daughter；？ which was almost as good as being royalty。
Almost。
？Actually； I？m moving to the Yale Club？at least until I figure out what I？m doing this summer；？
she announced into the phone； smiling down at her perfectly manicured coral pink fingernails as if
this had been her plan all along。
？Is that so？？
Blair looked up from her overstuffed black Barneys shopping bags full of shoes。 Vanessa was
standing in the open doorway to the apartment； hands on her pale； round hips； wearing a black
wifebeater T…shirt and black cotton Hanes underwear。 That scraggly boy Blair thought Vanessa had
dumped for good was standing behind her； wearing only a pair of gray Fruit of the Looms； while
the rest of his worn…too…often…to…ever…e…clean clothes were bundled in his arms。 A huge grapey
bruise stood out on his throat； just belo