Killer Summer, Lynda Curnyn [books suggested by bill gates .txt] 📗

I reached out, putting my arms around her. “I’m sorry. Sage. I really, really am.”

She leaned back to look at me.

“I don’t even know what I’m saying half the time,” I continued. “Maybe it’s because I’ve had a rough time of things lately, you know? Seems like everything I touch turns to shit. The label—”

“I thought you said things were going well.”

“Yeah, they were,” I said. “I finally got a little money together. Not too much,” I added quickly.“Then I sink most of that money into a band I believe in, only to find out the singer is a fucking head case.”

“I’m sorry about Les—”

“It’s not your fault.” I shook my head. “Anyway, I’m sorting it out, making some new plans. I think it will be okay, but it’s hard to trust that, you know?”

“Don’t I know it,” she said, a smile touching her lips.

Damn, I never felt so glad to see Sage smile.

I smiled right back at her. “So can you blame a guy for taking a little stress relief?”

She looked at me.“Is that all Francesca is to you? Stress relief?”

I thought about that a moment. “Nah, she’s a good kid.”

“But she’s Tom’s kid, Nick. And you don’t have the greatest track record with women.”

“What? I was with Bern for, like, two years.”

She raised an eyebrow. “All told. But you guys, like, broke up at least sixteen times. And that was before she even left New York.”

“This is different, Sage.”

“I hope so. Because if you break Francesca’s heart, Tom’s going to suffer the consequences. And he’s suffered enough this year.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about Tom. To be perfectly honest, I don’t think he gives a shit when it comes to Francesca.”

“That’s not true. He just doesn’t know how to show it—”

“I’m telling you, Sage, he practically caught us in the act and seemed just as clueless as ever about his daughter. I think it kinda hurts Francesca, you know?”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

I smiled. The gig was up.“Yeah, I guess I kinda do, you know?”

Sage smiled, wrapping her arms around me and giving me the kind of squeeze she used to give me when we were kids.

“Then go be with her,” she said, leaning back to look at me. “With my blessing.”

“Okay, Mother Sage,” I said, and ruffled her hair until she was laughing like I hadn’t heard in a long time. Probably all summer long.

Chapter Forty-four

Sage

I’ll take the beach house and the beautiful man (hold the wife and kid).

I was standing on Vince’s front porch for only two minutes when it became clear he wasn’t there.

Pulling my cell phone out of my bag, I looked at the clock. It was almost six-fifteen. We had plans for six.

With a sigh, I shuffled through my bag, found the e-mail he had sent me with his phone number on it, and dialed.

“Hi,” I said, when he answered on the second ring.

“Sage, where are you?”

“I’m at your house. Where are you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m actually glad you called. I got held up. Gabri-ella was supposed to pick up Sophia earlier, but of course my ex is on her own schedule.” He sighed. “I really am sorry. I would have called sooner, but your number was in my car and I was at the house with Sophia.”

I bit back on my disappointment. After all, this was what I signed up for when I set my sights on a man with an ex-wife and a kid. “That’s fine. I guess I’ll just head back to my house.”

“No, no. Go inside. The key is hidden on top of the window ledge. I’m right across the water. I just need to throw a few things in a bag and I’m there. Shouldn’t be more than forty-five minutes. An hour tops.“

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Make yourself a drink. Sit on the deck and relax.” He paused, then added softly,“Besides, I like the idea of you waiting at home for me.”

Mmm. So did I. “Then I’ll be there waiting.”

“Looking forward to seeing you,” he said in a husky whisper that sent a warm shiver right down to my toes.

Getting into the house was easy enough. Being in it was another matter. Once I flicked on the lights, flooding the shadowy living area with light, I was very aware of the fact that I was here alone. I hadn’t paid much attention to the decor last time I was here—unless, of course,you count the sheets in the bedroom. And without the distraction of Vince, everything suddenly seemed so unfamiliar.

Now, as I dropped my bag down on the plush sofa and glided through the quiet empty rooms, I was all too aware of how little I really knew about Vince.

And reminded of what I did know, I thought, as my eye fell upon a large framed picture hanging on the living room wall. A photograph of a mother and child.

Gabriella and Sophia, 1 realized, once I’d stepped up to it, studying the dark-haired, attractive woman who sat on a swing chair in a lush garden, a smile touching her lips as she looked down at Sophia, who was curled up in her lap, asleep.

Okay, it was his child, but couldn’t he find another picture of Sophia to keep at his house? Like one that didn’t feature his ex-wife?

She was the mother of his child, I reminded myself, turning away from the photo, my gaze roaming over the soft pastel sofa, the wicker easy chair, the hand-painted fan that dominated one wall. And apparently, the decorator of this house. The decor was decidedly female. I guess that made sense. They’d probably bought the house together.

Still, it only reminded me how much a part of Vince’s life Gabriella was.

I headed to the bedroom, smiling at the memory of me and Vince lying on those cozy white sheets last Saturday, even picking up a pillow to breathe in his scent.

I smiled wider, suddenly feeling like I belonged here.

Deciding to make