The Summer Villa Page 3

  ‘Maybe you might like to suggest an alternative career plan then?’ her mother interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Because lazing around in bed till midday doesn’t seem like much of a go-getter strategy to me.’

  ‘You seem to have forgotten that I was working late last night – with Dad’s clients. Seriously, is that all I am to you two? Some built-in entertainment manager for Weston Inc.? I’m your daughter, for chrissakes! What about some consideration for my needs?’

  Gloria harrumphed. ‘Your father and I have always ensured that your needs are more than catered for – with your expense accounts, generous salary and pretty much everything you could ever want.’

  ‘Except love …’ Kim replied in a small voice. ‘And respect for what I might want or need.’

  ‘Honey, think about it,’ her father began, his tone softening, and she was hopeful that her words had finally got through and appealed to his better nature. ‘This is a solid plan. You’re always saying you’re bored of New York, so it’s an ideal opportunity, to get out and explore new horizons. London is a great city – a summer there could well be exactly what you need.’

  ‘A summer there sounds fine, Dad; it’s what I’m expected to do while there that makes me sick.’ She stood up. ‘You know what? I’m not doing this anymore. I’ve had enough of being a pawn in this family. I’ll move out, get my own place, find a job where someone appreciates my actual talent and skills …’

  ‘Find your own place – here in Manhattan? How on earth will you afford that?’ Gloria gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I think you seriously overestimate those skills and talents if you expect to just randomly waltz into a job that pays the same kind of salary your father does.’

  The realisation stopped Kim in her tracks. Her mother was right. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. She couldn’t make it on her own. She didn’t even know where to start. She was just a puppet and her folks held the strings; they always had.

  Check. Mate.

  As always, Kim was outplayed.

  ‘When did you want me to leave for England?’ she asked, defeated.

  ‘Two weeks, when your father and I head to the Hamptons. I told you she’d make the right decision in the end,’ her mother commented snidely as she turned to her father. ‘Our daughter will always choose the easy life.’

  Peter didn’t answer. Instead, he got to his feet.

  ‘I need a coffee,’ he commented absently as he left the room. That was it. Kim’s dad had basically just whored out his only daughter, and all he could say was he needed coffee.

  Tears filled her eyes as she stood up and headed for the door.

  ‘I’ll let the Andrews know to expect you,’ her mother said to her back as Kim left. ‘You’ve made a very wise choice this time, Kimberley. Very wise indeed.’

  Chapter 3

  That night, as Kim and her friend Natasha made their way from club to club in Manhattan, she drank herself into oblivion, trying to put the disgusting sordidness of her parents’ request – no, demand – out of her mind.

  Part of her hoped that she’d just wander out on the street and have a cab driver end her misery for her. She was too cowardly to do it herself.

  Had she really acquiesced to this? Agreed to barter herself for her family in order to secure a future for herself?

  ‘Hey, slow down – we’re not eighteen anymore,’ Natasha encouraged, but Kim was hearing none of it.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she slurred as she pushed her way again towards the bar.

  ‘I think you’ve had enough, actually,’ her friend interjected as she attempted to get in her way. But Kim could be persistent and with the level of alcohol that now coursed through her veins, she felt unstoppable.

  ‘Bartender!’ she yelled as she slapped the top of the electric green counter.

  ‘Seriously,’ Natasha insisted, grabbing her wrist, ‘you’ll break your hand the way you’re hitting that.’

  ‘So what,’ Kim snapped as she yanked it away. ‘What difference does it make? The Andrews will just get a slightly bruised whore for a daughter-in-law.’

  Daughter-in-law … The word disgusted her and the notion of charming some guy into marriage made her want to throw up.

  ‘Hey! Vodka,’ she shouted as she raised her glass above her head and waved frantically at the bartender. The guy, who knew Kim well, hustled over and grabbed the empty glass from her hand.

  ‘Another one, princess?’ He smirked. Normally Kim wouldn’t have entertained his flirtations but today was different. ‘You sure?’

  ‘Hey, if you’re pouring then I’m drinking,’ she teased, leaning across the bar, practically falling over it, and kissing him.

  ‘OK, enough,’ Natasha stated as she grabbed Kim by the hem of her skirt and heaved her backwards. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘My thing,’ Kim spat. ‘What I do best. Make guys like me,’ she drawled drunkenly.

  Kim could see the look of disgust and annoyance in her friend’s face but it was nothing compared to the feeling in her heart. Natasha would never know how she felt. She’d never know the betrayal, the hurt, and despair that Kim felt right then. Her life was over when it had never really begun. How could anyone call what she did living when every moment was for someone else, never herself?

  And now she was about to cross a line over which she could never return.

  Once she set foot on that plane and traversed the ocean, any hope of a normal life would be over. From what she remembered of them, the Andrews were stuffy and pretentious, and Spencer was the most anal guy she’d ever met. Seduce him? That bit would be easy. But marry him? That was a whole other prospect.

  She grabbed the vodka bottle from the bartender, and downed the remaining contents in one go. Clear liquid burned every inch of its way down as she hissed her approval.

  ‘That’s what I’m talkin’ about.’

  ‘For crying out loud,’ Natasha sighed.

  ‘What?’ she snapped involuntarily.

  Her friend cocked her head at her accusingly. Kim knew what that meant. She took a deep breath and sighed. She was acting out, behaving like a bratty teen. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off.

  ‘Sorry,’ she apologised.

  Natasha shook her head sympathetically. ‘It’s OK. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now. But this…’ she indicated the bottle and Kim’s ragged appearance, ‘this isn’t you.’

  Her friend was right. This wasn’t her. She tried to refocus, get herself back in the game, but all she could think of was the upcoming trip to England and the horrific scenario it presented.

  Natasha slapped her hand across the bar. ‘So what’re you going to do about it?’

  Kim’s head snapped up, her wide green eyes piercing her friend’s dark gaze. ‘What can I do? It’s all decided and I agreed. Case closed.’ Feeling dizzy now from the effects of the vodka, she stumbled against the bar a little. ‘I’m outta here.’

  She stumbled erratically through the crowds, her short skirt and skimpy top gaining the attention of most of the guys she passed, but she didn’t pay attention. Her eyes were solely focused on the exit. She could hear Natasha following her but she didn’t look back.

  The moment they stepped outside, her friend grabbed Kim’s arm and turned her around. ‘Oh, come on, quit the “poor me” act. The Kim Weston I know doesn’t just give in. So what – now you’ve decided to just turn into a wet mop and do what they want?’

  ‘What does it matter?’ Kim spat. ‘Everything stays the same. They always get what they want. So why bother fighting?’

  ‘You’re always saying that one day you’ll finally stop letting them win and take a hold of your own life. This could be the day.’

  ‘Easy for you to say. Your folks are great. They don’t pressure you. They let you find your own way and just be there for you if you need them. They love you. My parents only bother with me when they need to whore me out.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Natasha rolled h
er eyes. ‘Kim, you’re nearly thirty years old. No one is stopping you from having the life you want. You’re just scared to actually go out and get it. You find excuse after excuse for why you can’t walk away from your parents, and this “woe is me” attitude, but the truth is you’re afraid to let go of the trappings that Mommy and Daddy’s cash can buy.’

  The words were a fist to the gut. ‘So what if I am? You mean to tell me you wouldn’t be scared if having what you want meant giving up everything you already have, your entire way of life?’

  ‘Of course,’ Natasha answered. ‘I’d be terrified. We can’t pretend that we haven’t had an easy time. We’ve always had everything we’ve ever wanted. The best that money can buy. People kill for the types of lives we were born into.’

  Her words weren’t helping Kim feel any better. ‘So what’s all this talk about me being scared?’

  ‘I’m saying it because there comes a time when you need to decide if what you want from life is more important than the trappings you’d forfeit for that freedom. Does having everything handed to you beat the ability to make your own choices? If it does, then go to England, Kim. Make Spencer what’s-his-name fall head over heels for you. Get married, have two point five children, smile for the Christmas card photos and make your parents happy, while you – Kim Weston – are dying inside.’

  She could see the exact image in her mind as Natasha described it and it made her nauseous.

  ‘Or,’ her friend continued, ‘take a bold step. Do something crazy and different and unexpected, and see where it takes you.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Something no one would see coming, not even you. This may be your last chance, Kim. Take it. Before you commit your life to misery, take a chance that maybe there is something more out there for you. Maybe getting the life you want isn’t so scary. I’ll help you.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know. It depends on what you want to do.’

  ‘I don’t know what that is either,’ Kim answered with exasperation. ‘I just want to escape from all this.’

  Natasha’s eyes lit up. ‘They why the hell don’t you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, why don’t you escape? Here in New York your folks’ shadow is always looming over you. Why don’t you go somewhere they can’t influence you?’

  The prospect was intriguing. ‘Like where?’

  A smile spread across her friend’s tanned features and Kim’s stomach began to knot. Was she really considering this? Yes, she was.

  ‘Come on, let’s head back to my place and sober you up a little first,’ she stated as she took Kim by the hand and went to hail a taxi. ‘Party Girl Kim is done.’

  Chapter 4

  Natasha had her own Midtown apartment in the heart of everything. She was lucky, she got to live on her own but her parents still paid for it, so she had all of the freedom without the worry of bills and rent.

  Kim often envied Natasha’s situation, and she told her that. They’d been friends since middle school and had few secrets between them, but the distance in their lives was widening the older they got.

  Tash couldn’t understand what Kim went through, no matter how much she tried. She always had ideas to save her and simple solutions to whatever problem Kim faced, but it was easy to find an out when your feelings weren’t in the mix, and your heart wasn’t being torn by the choices you faced.

  It was easy to rip a bandage off when you didn’t have to feel the pain of the removal or bleed once it was done.

  Now, the pair settled onto the couch as Natasha turned on her Dell and typed in her password. Kim nipped to the bathroom, pulled her blonde curls back in a scrunchie she had in her bag, and went to splash her face with water.

  She wasn’t that drunk; the act back at the bar was mostly borne out of despair, and more than that, Natasha’s suggestion had sobered her up and got her thinking.

  ‘So what are we doing?’ she asked, coming back into the living room.

  ‘We,’ her friend answered as she pulled up a search engine, ‘are going to find you the perfect escape, Kim Weston. So what are you feeling? Someplace down south maybe? I hear Miami is fun.’

  ‘Too humid in summer,’ Kim answered.

  ‘California?’

  ‘We go there all the time.’

  ‘Hawaii then?’ Natasha suggested as she turned to her. ‘You could surf or climb a volcano.’

  Kim didn’t share her enthusiasm. ‘How about someplace I haven’t been? Somewhere new?’

  ‘OK, so why don’t we let Google decide?’ Natasha suggested with a laugh.

  Kim frowned.

  ‘Trust me,’ her friend assured, as the ‘I Feel Lucky’ prompt appeared and Tash duly pressed ‘enter’. ‘There. What do you think?’

  ‘Italy?’

  ‘Yes. On the other side of the world, a whole ocean away from your folks’ reach,’ she added with a satisfied smile. She pushed the laptop in Kim’s direction and a flood of stunningly picturesque images filled her vision.

  She knew Italy was beautiful. Her family had visited Venice once when she was six or seven and Kim had always wanted to go back. She remembered Gloria being annoyed with her because all she wanted to do was chase around after the pigeons in St Mark’s Square.

  She flicked through the on-screen images of picture-postcard scenery: blue skies, historical sights, twinkling water and impossibly pretty villages, each one more appealing than the last.

  The idea of running away to such a place was unbelievably alluring. Not to mention romantic.

  ‘Looks incredible …’ she muttered, as she continued her search.

  ‘Good place to hide away for a while and maybe get your bearings?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s no way I can go.’

  ‘Why not?’ Natasha challenged. ‘No one has to know and I certainly won’t tell. What’s stopping you?’

  ‘How am I going to pay for it? If I use the Amex, Mom and Dad will know and they’d be on the next flight to drag me back before I even arrive,’ Kim pointed out.

  Or more likely, have someone else do it. Her driver, probably.

  ‘Not if you pay with mine.’ Natasha grabbed her purse and pulled out the little magic black rectangle.

  Kim took the credit card from her friend and turned it over in her hands. She bit her lip. Could this tiny piece of plastic be the key to her escape? She grinned.

  ‘How much can I spend?’

  ‘Whatever you need,’ Natasha answered airily, as a satisfied grin spread across her face. ‘No one’s going to check. I can cover your flight, hotel – everything. You’ll need some cash for spending, though, or else your parents will be able to track you.’

  Clearly Natasha had been watching too much true crime on TV again, but Kim was thankful. If she did go ahead with this then she couldn’t take the chance that her parents would find out.

  ‘OK, but just coach flights, and nowhere expensive, OK? And I’ll pay you back.’ She knew the money wouldn’t matter to her friend but it did to Kim.

  If this was going to be about finding her own way, then she needed to get her priorities straight from the get-go.

  ‘Great! So let’s find you someplace to stay,’ Natasha practically sang as she pulled the laptop closer. ‘Italy’s a big country. Where would you like to go?’

  ‘I don’t know. Does it matter? Isn’t the point of an escape to just go and see what happens?’ Kim pointed out.

  ‘Pin the tail on the donkey then,’ Natasha laughed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘On the map. Just close your eyes and pick a spot,’ she insisted.

  Kim looked at her sceptically. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Just do it.’

  Kim did as she was bid and they both stared at the part of Italy she’d picked, a spot at the shin area of the boot-shaped map.

  The Amalfi Coast looked and sounded amazing.

  And the further along the plan progressed, the more hope
ful Kim felt. A chance to take some time out, if only for a little while, was something she hadn’t even realised she needed.

  Either one last summer hurrah before life as she knew it ended, or the opportunity to find out what the alternatives could be. And perhaps, most importantly, a chance to outmanoeuvre her parents, have some fun and take charge of her life in the most spectacular way.

  ‘All we need now is your flight. You’re supposed to leave for England next month, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kim confirmed.

  ‘So find out the date and we book your flight to Italy for the same day, so your parents won’t be suspicious.’

  Kim had to laugh. ‘You really think of everything, don’t you? Espionage would suit you.’

  ‘Don’t think I haven’t considered it,’ her friend mused. She continued in her best James Bond voice. ‘Slater. Natasha Slater. Agent Nine-Inch Heels.’

  ‘Thanks, Tash,’ Kim said as her emotions took over. ‘For this … for everything.’

  ‘Of course.’ Her friend pulled her in for a hug. ‘You’re my best friend and I want the best for you. Whatever that may be.’ She turned back to her computer. ‘Now, let’s find a place for you to stay,’ she continued. ‘Somewhere fitting for Kim Weston’s Italian Great Escape.’

  Chapter 5

  Now

  ‘So are you going to share what’s on your mind?’ Antonio asked as his Maserati made its way along the coast and deftly around the hairpin bends that used to so terrify Kim, but were as familiar to her now as Fifth Avenue used to be.

  She turned to look at him, brushing back strands of her hair as it blew in the breeze.

  In spite of his advancing years, he was still very handsome. There was something about him that reminded her a lot of her husband.

  Both men had angular jaws and arresting eyes, but while Antonio’s were brown, Gabriel’s were piercing blue. Both also had Roman-shaped noses, reflecting their Italian roots. Gabe was American but his family was originally from Sicily, and the semblance of his ancestry still shone through.

  Now, she visualised her husband’s handsome face before her – his gentle eyes and brilliant smile. She hadn’t seen that smile in weeks and she missed it.