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Informationen zum Autor Melissa de la Cruz Klappentext Lauren Page is well on her way to becoming an Ashley in the second book in The Ashley Project series from "New York Times"-bestselling author de la Cruz. Originally published as "Jealous?, " this edition features a new cover. Leseprobe Social Order 1 A MODEL HOMECOMING “HONEY, I’VE MISSED YOU SO much!” “I missed you, too, Mom.” Ashley Alioto—otherwise known as A. A., one of the tween triumvirate of Ashleys who were the acknowledged social elite of Miss Gamble’s School for Girls—smiled up at her mother. Jeanine Alioto was as beautiful as ever, tall and willowy, her long dark hair perfectly razor-cut and blow-dried, her eyebrows immaculately threaded, her lips injected with just enough Venezuelan bee serum to make her mouth a seductive pout. Sometimes girls at school—non-Ashleys, of course—asked her if it was a drag having a former supermodel for a mother, as though getting great genes (not to mention an endless supply of great jeans) was a bad thing. The only kind-of-bad part was when her mother disappeared for weeks at a time because some rich guy wanted her to sail around the Caribbean with him or hang out at the Cannes Film Festival. A. A. was left at home in their penthouse apartment in the Fairmont Hotel with her stepbrother, Ned. They got along just fine without Jeanine—duh, room service!—but it was always better when her mother was home, not least because she always brought back a ton of cool gifts. “And these are for you, Lili,” said her mother, pulling a chic pair of black shoes from one of her overflowing Goyard suitcases and tossing them into the eager hands of Ashley Li. The shoes meant for Lili had three-inch curvy heels with ankle straps fastened by a tiny ribbon. Receiving designer swag was just another one of the many perks of being an Ashley, but Lili, perched on the edge of the butter-colored chaise lounge, peered at them with a puzzled smile on her face. “Thanks so much, Jeanine,” she said in her peppiest voice, but A. A. knew what she was thinking. Lili was a total brand queen, and if she didn’t recognize the name imprinted in the soft calfskin soles of the shoes, then they might as well be a pair of sweaty Crocs. “Are these an Argentinian . . . er, specialty?” “Sweetie, they’re tango shoes!” Jeanine scrambled to her feet. In her calf-high Fiorentini & Baker boots tucked into skintight Ksubi jeans, she was more than six feet tall, towering over the petite Lili and even over A. A., who’d inherited her mother’s long, lean physique and was currently sprawled out on the white sheepskin rug. “I got them for A. A. and then remembered she’d rather throw herself around on a soccer field than do anything ladylike, and I know you’re the same size. I spent a few days in Buenos Aires at the tango festival, and these are from the tango shoe store. Everything’s handmade and super expensive.” “I’d love to learn the tango,” said Lili with a sigh, flicking her glossy jet-black hair, a dreamy expression floating over her pretty, heart-shaped face. A. A. let out a snort of laughter—all Lili needed was yet another extracurricular activity! When she wasn’t taking violin or tennis lessons, she was brushing up on her French and Mandarin language skills, or learning how to take expert photographs, or helping a Stanford professor with his genetics research. If A. A. had Lili’s overscheduled life, she’d go crazy. “I thought you were going to Brazil.” A. A. picked at the intricately woven blue hammock her mother had pulled from suitcase number one twenty minutes ago. There was an outdoor terrace off the suite where it would hang perfectly. “Rio in the off-season just isn’t me.” Jean...
