Killer Summer

24

Her father had returned from a massage, and the sound coming from his room of the shower running caught Summer in the gut. A stock-market update was running on the flat-screen television in his room, the female anchor talking about “puts and calls.” For whatever reason, Summer thought about Enrico.

If she was going to do this, it had to be now, and just the thought of it flooded her with both excitement and dread. Despite being a moron and a loser, her father did his best. She was pretty sure he bent the rules and broke his word from time to time, but only because he was desperate to keep her happy. If it had just been him alone, he’d have bought a Barcalounger and surrendered himself to ESPN for the rest of his days. He sucked as a producer, but as a father he looked after her and cared about her, and would not approve in the least of what she was about to do.

Enrico, on the other hand, made her feel like she was already out of college.

She kept one eye on the suite’s living room as she began repacking her suitcase. She left the closet open so that if he happened to come into the room, she could hide the suitcase, hide her intentions.

She was sweating despite the room’s air-conditioning. Her head throbbed and her stomach felt squeamish. She’d never done anything like this. He would go ballistic. She had no idea what he’d do to her, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

She flashed back to the voice on the BlackBerry call she’d taken for her father. There was a name attached to that voice-a face, even-but she couldn’t remember it exactly, couldn’t make a name stick to the face. She shook off her wondering and continued stuffing her delicates in the suitcase.

She trusted he was too consumed in the wine auction and his deals to notice any change in her, because she knew she wasn’t going to pull this off perfectly. She didn’t lie to him and he didn’t lie to her: this was an oath they’d made after her mother died. They were in this together. Only now she was deserting him. It made her feel a little crazy in the head. He didn’t deserve what she was about to do to him, no matter how much he tried to keep her being a kid instead of allowing her to be the woman she was.

Her hand hesitated, about to deliver a T-shirt to the suitcase. She could have undone this before it ever got started. He begged her all the time to talk, to tell him what she was thinking. But she put the shirt in the suitcase, continuing her packing.

There was no turning back now.