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artists themselves; the Remi brothers; identical twin sons of a

French model and an English duke; were being interviewed and

photographed for Art Forum; Vogue; W; Harper’s Bazaar; and the

New York Times。

Serena studied each photograph carefully。 They weren’t eyes; she

decided; now that she was looking at them blown up。 But what were

they? Belly buttons?

Suddenly Serena felt an arm around her waist。

“Hello; ma chèrie。 Beautiful girl。 What is your name?”

It was one of the Remi brothers。 He was twenty…six years old and

five foot seven; the same height as Serena。 He had curly black hair

and brilliant blue eyes。 He spoke with a French and British accent。

He was dressed head to toe in navy blue; and his lips were dark red

and curved foxily up at the corners。 He was absolutely gorgeous;

and so was his twin brother。

Lucky girl。

Serena didn’t resist when he pulled her into a photograph with him

and his brother for the New York Times Sunday Styles section。 One

brother stood behind Serena and kissed her neck while the other

knelt in front of her and hugged her knees。 Around them; people

watched greedily; eager to catch a glimpse of the new “it” girl。

Everyone in New York wants to be famous。 Or at least see someone

who is so they can brag about it later。

The New York Times society reporter recognized Serena from

parties a year or so back; but he had to be sure it was her。 “Serena

van der Woodsen; right?” he said; looking up from his notepad。

Serena blushed and nodded。 She was used to being recognized。

“You must model for us;” one of the Remi brothers gasped; kissing

Serena’s hand。

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