The Jeep bumped along the road as Sara headed home. She could have made the drive back with her eyes closed. She knew the roads like the back of her hand.

She passed the school, then the golf course where her father liked to hit golf balls with his clients. Then there was the main grocery store. The pet store. The post office. One of two gas stations. And the various small businesses that operated in the suburbs, outside New York City.

When Sara finally parked her Jeep in her driveway, she saw her parents' cars were in the garage.

She pushed open the front door. The smell of toasted bread and strong coffee filled the house. Dropping her overnight bag on the stairs, she skipped to the kitchen. The whole drive back she kept imagining Bentley asleep right beside her on the ground. All night long!!!! If ONLY she could have seen Ella's face. That would have made her life complete.

And while part of her felt a tiny bit guilty for being this happy, another part of her was somewhat surprised that Bentley would blatantly piss off Ella. But then again, Ella couldn't control Bentley. He did what he wanted.

But Sara's thoughts continued to wander. He was just being nice. He's a nice guy. He's a gentleman. Ella should understand that. She shouldn't hold it against me that he was just looking out for my safety.

Sara found her parents at the kitchen table. The clock on the wall said it was only seven thirty in the morning.

"Why, Sara. You're home early," her mother said. She put down her magazine, and bit into a slice of buttered toast.

Mr. Smith closed his newspaper. He set it down on the table. "You girls have fun last night?" he asked.

Sara saw her parents were dressed for an outing. Her mother was dolled up in a Chanel corporate dress. The kind with a high neckline and pencil-straight skirt.

Her father wore his usual business suit.

Sara flopped down into a chair.

Trash trotted over to her. He wanted his obligatory 'Hello' rub on the head.

"Yes, it was a lot of fun, Dad," Sara said. She gave Trash's head a quick pat. Then the dog went to lay down on the ground near the door.

She grinned at her mother. "You won't BELIEVE the incredible jewelry and clothes Ella's mother has. Her closet, alone, is TWO STORIES! And she has all of these diamonds and emeralds that just sit there on shelves." Sara grabbed a yogurt from the table. She lifted the lid and began to spoon yogurt into her mouth. "Ella claims her mother rarely wears any of that jewelry at all."

Mrs. Smith nodded. She took another bite of her toast. "Many women like lots of jewelry." She tilted her head towards her husband. "Should I be one of those women?"

Mr. Smith cleared his throat. He picked up his newspaper and hid his face behind it. "I'd think not," he stated.

Sara and her mother shared a giggle.

"I prefer a few select, exquisite pieces of jewelry." Mrs. Smith held out her long strand of saltwater pearls on her neck.

Mr. Smith huffed behind his newspaper. "Who needs jewelry when you can have nice cars?"

Mrs. Smith finished her toast. She sipped her coffee. "That's true, dear. I do love my wonderful Mercedes Benz."

She put her coffee mug down. "Now Sara. You girls didn't do anything illegal, did you? Nothing we have to worry about hearing from Ella's parents?"

Sara crunched up her empty yogurt container. "No, Mom. We played dress up. And hide and seek. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Except for the underage drinking...and the super sexy lingerie that I won't tell you Grandma bought me.

"Good," her mother replied curtly. She narrowed her eyes. "Were there any boys there?"

Sara heard her father clear his throat awkwardly from behind his newspaper.