Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (e book reading free .txt) 📗

myself at home, I headed back into the living room and fixed myself a drink at the small bar in the corner.

As it turned out, Vince not only had tequila but good tequila.

Now that’s my kind of man, I thought, shaking the ice around in my drink then raising it to my lips to sip.

Now that’s my kind of drink, I thought, feeling the burn move down my throat and settle warmly in my stomach.

Opening the sliding glass door, I stepped out onto the deck, studying the wrought-iron patio furniture, which seemed innocuous enough. I pulled the recliner around so that it faced the sun, which was just beginning to set, and settled in.

Not bad, I thought, putting my drink on the deck beside me as I listened to the reeds surrounding me blow in the wind. Not an ocean view, but this cozy little deck had its own merits. Like privacy, I thought, pulling off my tank top to get the full effect of the sun’s last rays on my skin.

Mmm. I could get used to this. I was used to this, I thought with a smile. The beach was the only place I had ever found peace. And now, I thought, as a vision of me and Vince in an intimate tangle on this very recliner filled my mind, perhaps I would find more.

Of course, just as soon as I got comfortable, my cell phone rang. I thought about letting it go, then gave in to it, jumping up and heading to the living room to retrieve it from my bag.

My mother, I thought, once I looked at the caller ID.

“Hi,” I said, suddenly remembering that I should have called her. The Keep Hope Alive festival began last night. How had I forgotten that?

“Sage, how are you, honey?”

“I’m good, how are you?” I said, returning to the deck and the recliner.“How’s the festival going? Things get off to a good start?”

“A wonderful start. We did Cat on a Hot Tin Roof last night. You should have seen Janice Woodrow in the role of Maggie. She was stunning. I -wish you could have been there to see it.”

“I’m sorry.” I hesitated. “I would have if I didn’t have so much going on.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m at the beach.”

“Oh,” she replied. Then she added, “Well, you work so hard. You need your downtime, right?”

“Right,” I said, wondering if she even believed the excuses I gave for why I rarely came out to the house anymore. I remembered the avalanche of feeling I had suffered last week, the relief I had felt in the tears that had flowed when I had allowed myself to remember my sister. And I had thought about Hope a lot this week. More than I had in years.

“So what’s next on the agenda for the festival?” I asked.

“Well, tomorrow night we’re doing a series of ten-minute plays. And Sunday night we’re doing Peter Pan for the kids. Your father did all the set designs. And you’ll never guess who’s playing Peter Pan—Charlie!”

I rolled my eyes, trying to imagine Charlie, who was fifty if he was a day, donning green tights to play Peter Pan. But I guess he was tiny. And in my parents’ world, there was a role for everyone. Even me, I realized, thinking of how many years I had tried to play caretaker to my parents. Always worrying about how they were going to eat, how they were going to live. Maybe for a change, I could just be me.

Which was why I probably found myself saying,“Hey, maybe I can take an early ferry on Sunday and catch the last show.”

“Oh, Sage, that would be wonderful! You know how much we’d love to see you.”

I did know, which was why her words sent a stab of guilt through me. But I shook it off. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, too.”

And I realized, for the first time in a long time, I was.

Maybe it was the comfort 1 took from my conversation with my mother. Or maybe it was the tequila, but I found myself drifting off to sleep in Vince’s cozy little recliner. I didn’t fight it. After all, these were the lazy days of summer, right?

I was awakened abruptly by the sound of the sliding glass door opening behind me.

Blinking, I smiled when I saw Vince standing above me, looking at me rather hungrily.

But then, I was topless.

“Well, hello stranger,” I said, my body tightening with anticipation.

Chapter Forty-five

Maggie

Be careful who you lust for.

When a woman thinks of having an affair, she’s not looking for a man with a pension plan or a fat 401K. She’s looking for a man who will love her like no other. Who would die at the thought of losing her and would risk everything to be with her.

Maybe I’d listened to one too many rock ballads, but I had been looking for that kind of man all my life. It didn’t take me long to figure out that Donnie Havens was not him. Donnie was more “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” which was why I never fell prey to him. I was looking for a man who was more “Baby, I’m Amazed.”

And I found that man in Vince Trifelli.

Before I met Vince, all I knew was the myth Tom fed me. Of the man who had befriended Tom when he was first starting out in New York. Of the partner who risked everything to help bring Luxe into being. Of the pioneer who traveled to China with a young wife, even started a family there, as he set up Tom’s manufacturing overseas.

Vince Trifelli had become almost a legend in my mind. Imagine my surprise to discover, when I finally met him, just how very human he was.

Vince returned home from China an exile. His wife greeted him with a divorce, his child hardly knew him. I guess I understood how abandoned he felt. Tom hadn’t left me,