The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story

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The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story Page 16

by S. C. York


  “Can we talk for a minute?”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. He needs a serious kick in the ass. I already gave him a kick in the balls.

  “Sean—”

  “Vanessa, please. I need to talk to you,” he interrupts.

  I know he’s not going to leave me alone until I let him say what he needs. I feel eyes on me. Glancing around, I see we’re gathering attention. I motion over toward an empty patch of sand by the road. The end of our relationship was hot gossip for some time and I don’t need any of it starting back up. But Sean won’t budge. His feet are firmly planted in the sand.

  “Sean, can’t you just leave it in the past? I’ve moved on. I see some forty-year-old women over there—maybe you should go chat them up and see if any of them are lonely housewives.” I tell him, sitting back down. He doesn’t take the bait.

  “Vanessa, are you seeing that preppy guy? Blake Foster’s friend?”

  Ignoring him, I pick at my salad. I glance at Eva and mouth, “What the hell?”

  “Nessa, don’t be naive. I can’t believe you think that guy is better for you than me.”

  “Do you want another kick in the balls?” I ask him.

  “Okay, Sean, it’s time for you to leave. Now!” Eva tells him. She stands, invading his personal space so close the tips of her shoes almost touch his. With matching faces of frustration, they engage in a staring contest. She wins. As dense as he is, Sean has enough sense to back down when facing off with her. He gives me one last long look, then fades away into the crowd.

  “I don’t get it. Why did he cheat on me, only to want me back?”

  “Because he thought he could,” Eva answers.

  “Ryan, you should’ve seen the look on Sean’s face. Eva intimidated the heck out of him. Even though she barely reached his shoulder he was terrified of her. Blake better not screw up with her. He has no idea the wrath that would rain down on his head.”

  My window air-conditioning unit hums, drowning out my voice, keeping my parents blissfully unaware of my late-night phone calls. Twining a few strands of hair around my finger I look up at the plastic stars glowing back down at me. The sound of his deep voice fills me with longing. I wish we could be together in person. This distance sucks.

  “Vanessa, it angers me that Sean’s always around, lurking in the background especially when I’m not there.”

  “I know. I miss you so much. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about, Sean’s a complete loser. I don’t have feelings for him anymore.”

  “Good. I miss you, too. I’ll be there tomorrow night, just one more night, Vanessa. You better get some sleep because I am going to keep you up all night long.”

  I throw my sheet off, moving restlessly on my bed. My room’s freezing, and I’m burning up in my tank and boy short pajamas just thinking about him.

  “What time will you get here?”

  “Late, since I left the New York office early to see you on Monday, I can’t take off before five.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m glad you did that.”

  “I know. But I don’t have the luxury of doing it again. My annual review’s next month, and I’m expecting a decent raise, maybe a promotion, I can’t jeopardize that.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry, Ry.”

  “Don’t worry, baby doll, I’m good. But I can’t take off early for the rest of the summer. I’ll text you when I arrive in the Borough, meet me there.”

  “Alright, but I still feel weird about it. Is Blake’s dad going to be there?”

  “Don’t worry about Charles. He’s been seeing someone for a while and he’s never around on much the weekends. When he’s in town he’s at the MYC or out golfing. How do you think Blake’s gotten away with so much?”

  “Umm, okay, I’ll see you then. Love—I mean, goodnight,” I stammer, smacking myself on the forehead.

  “Goodnight, baby doll,” he says, softly disconnecting.

  Pivoting in my heels, looking at my reflection in the mirror, I check for any flaws. The peplum dress flatters my figure. My hair’s plaited in a fishtail over one shoulder and I snuck into Mom’s room earlier to borrow her pearl drop earrings and matching necklace. I feel as ready as I’ll ever be for the formal dinner at the Foster’s Stonington house.

  We spent the day on the Majesty, cruising out on the Sound. Then Blake and Ryan took us out on the jet skis. I couldn’t believe it when Blake had his crew attach a slide off the port side bow. We spent hours going down, landing in the water and swimming to launch off the stern. It was a blast until TJ texted me that a shark was sighted a few weeks back. Eva started shrieking and announced she was never going back in.

  Luxury yachting is something else. I grab my gold-sequined clutch, hoping to finally get out of the house unnoticed. I lied to my parents last night, and told them I was going to Eva’s for an old-fashioned slumber party. Even at twenty-three, I still feel the need to hide the truth about where I spend the night.

  I open my door and tiptoe down the stairs, easing the screen door open trying to lessen the sound of squeaking hinges. It’s almost become a game at this point. Will they or won’t they catch me leaving?

  “Vanessa, where are you going so dressed up?” My dad asks as he sprays the plants in the front bed with the hose.

  “Eva invited me to a work dinner.”

  “On a Saturday night? Uh-huh, nice try,” my mom says, poking her head up. She was weeding and was hidden by the hedge. I sigh, no point delaying the inevitable.

  “Well, it’s kind of a double date.”

  “Now, we’re getting somewhere. Keep talking.”

  My mom’s relentless. She should’ve been a lawyer, because she can ferret information out of anyone.

  “Well, Eva’s dating Blake Foster and I met someone through him.”

  “Eva and Blake Foster! The Blake Foster? My daughter’s best friend is dating the most eligible bachelor on the East Coast, and you didn’t tell me? Quick, Hal, I need some ice water before I faint.”

  She takes off her gardening hat and starts fanning her face, “I think I’m getting heart palpitations. Hal, get me an aspirin, hurry!”

  “And this is exactly why I haven’t told you. My God—Mom, you’re so embarrassing!”

  “Now that’s a pair,” my mom nods in approval. “I can just see it now; their wedding will be the toast of the town. Eva, the girl from Groton, snagging Blake Foster!

  “Hal, go back in and get me the cordless, I need to call Pat. She’s going to die!”

  My poor dad hands her the ice water and pill then trods back toward the house. He’s always waiting on her.

  “Mom, stop. Blake and Eva haven’t even told Charles yet. Can you please not gossip about my friends?”

  “What’s the young man’s name you’re going out with?” Dad asks, stopping and turning around.

  “Thanks for asking. At least someone cares about who I’m dating. His name is Ryan Stone.”

  “Hold on. I need to Google him,” my mom says whipping off her gardening gloves. “Hal!” she shouts, “Forget the cordless, is the computer turned on?”

  “Mom, please, don’t do that.”

  “As if you haven’t already.”

  “Mom, I haven’t. What’s there to find. I already know the basics.”

  She waves her hand dismissing me and walks inside. Leaving me alone with my dad, in an incredibly awkward moment. We’re close, but I’ve never discussed dating or boys with him ever.

  “The garden looks great, Dad. I’ve never seen the yard look so good.”

  “Um hmm,” he says gruffly. Apparently, he feels just as weird. Mom briskly walks out the door and lets the door bang behind her.

  “Vanessa! That boy is a looker,” she says, fanning herself with her sun hat, again.

  “Thanks, I’m leaving now.”

  “Are you wearing my pearls, the ones Hal gave me for our twentieth anniversary? That cost him four paychecks, you know.”

  I freeze, shit, she doesn’t mi
ss a thing.

  “Never mind, just don’t lose them and ask first next time. Where are you going again?”

  “I’ll be at the Fosters’ Stonington House in the Borough having dinner with Mr. Foster. Blake is planning on telling him that he and Eva are a couple. Did you get it all, need a notepad? You know she works for them. They want to make sure Charles is okay with it.”

  “Eva’s such a bright girl. Mr. Foster should be very pleased.”

  “We all hope so, Mom. I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be late to this.”

  “Did you already sneak an overnight bag in your car, for another impromptu girl’s sleepover?” she asks.

  “Yep,” I answer quickly, darting to my MINI.

  “Are you being safe, Vanessa? I can get more condoms from the hospital,” she calls out.

  She’s so loud, I’m sure the entire neighborhood heard her.

  “Oh, my God! Mom, I’m leaving,” I say utterly mortified.

  “Text me, Vanessa. I mean it or I’ll beat down Blake Foster’s door!”

  I wave acknowledging her request and drive out into the twilight.

  The Stonington house is everything I’d thought it would be. The structure is a classic colonial, but the interior blows me away. In the front entryway, a curved staircase descends to a black-and-white-checked marble floor. A metal knight with a shield stands guard in the corner. And potted palm trees scatter around the edges of the grand entrance.

  “It’s the Foster Family Crest,” Ryan tells me, pointing to the shield designed with two lions and a few slash lines, painted on the knight’s chest.

  “Oh,” I mumble as he takes my hand and leads me through the hall to the kitchen. It’s all stainless-steel appliances with white Carrera marble counter tops. They stand out against gleaming espresso hardwood floors. When the Inn was updated last year, I attended some of the design meetings. Otherwise, I would have no idea what I’m looking at.

  The kitchen is a vast open space that leads to a solarium, equipped with a bar and billiard table. Ryan offers to make me a drink. Drawn to the view, I walk to the large windows stopping just short so my nose can’t mar the perfect glass. Beyond the glass Her Majesty sits on the water, all the world her throne.

  I’m not the one facing a test tonight, but I’m nervous for Eva. Having Mr. Foster’s blessing is something she wants very badly. Beyond her aura of confidence, deep down is still the girl who feels inferior. “Where are Blake and Eva?” I ask Ryan as he joins me at the window handing me a glass of wine.

  “They’ll be down in a minute. Blake wanted to have a moment alone to prep for dinner. Charles should be here any minute, he was working on a contract for the San Francisco Yacht Club and they’re on Pacific time.”

  “Ryan, I’m not a complete dunce. I understand time zones.”

  For the first time, I see his cheeks redden with embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry, Vanessa. Charles Foster’s a shrewd man. He’ll size you up in two seconds and draw his own conclusion. I’ll shield you the best I can even though Eva’s the one on display tonight, I’m a bit on edge myself. Blake’s been trying very hard to please his dad lately. He screwed up last year, Vanessa, I can’t get into the details now before dinner—”

  “I know all about it, Ry. TJ heard some things at MYC.”

  “Well, there’s a lot more to it that’s not public information.”

  I raise my eyebrows but before I can ask him to elaborate Eva and Blake make their entrance.

  Blake crosses over and kisses me on both cheeks, “Vanessa, thank you for coming. You look stunning.”

  “Thanks for having me, Blake, I hope tonight goes well for you both,” I reply with a smile.

  “I’m a little nervous. I’ve never introduced a woman to Charles as my girlfriend before,” he confides.

  “What? You never dated in high school or college?”

  “Relationships have never been my thing,” he says with a small shrug. “Guess I just needed someone like you, babe,” he says to Eva giving her a quick peck. Her entire body glows with happiness. It’s about time, no one deserves this more than her.

  “I can’t believe you refer to your father as Charles,” I tell him.

  “Vanessa, you’ll understand why I refer to him as Charles. Just wait five minutes.”

  As if hearing his name, Charles Foster walks in. All of us straighten like students walking into a principal’s office. He’s tall and stately, maintaining a strong, formidable build for a man in his late fifties. His salt and pepper hair’s brushed stylishly and bright blue eyes assess us all briefly.

  He has a navy-blue sports coat on over an open collar, pressed white shirt and khaki dress pants, expensive loafers on his feet. I never miss a chance to appraise a person’s footwear.

  “Good evening, sir,” Blake says to his father.

  I glance sideways at Ryan and utter, “Sir?”

  He elbows me quickly, and I take the hint to shut up.

  Mr. Foster says nothing but just walks past us all to a buffet table. He pours an amber colored liquid drink from a crystal decanter into a lowball glass.

  Looking across at Blake, I finally see vulnerability in his eyes, instead of the cool indifference he usually displays.

  “Shall we go to dinner?” Mr. Foster says, not even acknowledging myself or Eva’s presence. Ryan was the only person Charles graced with a quick nod. With no choice but to follow him, we enter the formal dining room. The only sound in this silent stone house, is the clicking of my stiletto heels gently tapping on the polished floors.

  Gasping softly, I admire the elegance before us. Three hurricane lamps line the middle of the oval cherry table, their lit flames reflected in the glass lanterns. Fresh white lilies spring from cut crystal vases, their petals matching the white china laid out.

  Paintings of regal schooners hang on the walls above the white-painted wainscoting. Standing at the back of the room is Jen, dressed in black pants and a white blouse, holding a pitcher of ice water. I move to sit down but Ryan grabs my elbow and shakes his head. He hisses, “Wait for Charles to sit first.”

  This is so uncomfortable. What the hell did I let myself get dragged into? I hate this damn house. Charles finally sits and Ryan pulls my seat out indicating I can sit now.

  Mr. Foster sits back and stares at us one by one, making his way around the table. We’re all frozen not even touching our drinks as he appraises us.

  “And you are?” he asks me gruffly.

  “This is Vanessa, my date,” Ryan informs him.

  Charles doesn’t respond and his eyes cut to Eva.

  “Eva, I’m surprised to see you here. You never mentioned that you would be dining at my home tonight,” he says, pinning her in her seat with his hard gaze.

  “Eva’s my guest, sir,” Blake responds putting his hand on top of hers at the table.

  I suck in my breath as Charles takes in this move. I’m fascinated at the father and son chess match and start to build a picture in my mind of Blake growing up alone in this stark house. No wonder Ryan tries to spend every weekend with him, this house is a cold stone palace.

  “Which one of you has the guts to tell me what the hell’s going on? What mayhem did Blake get into now?” Charles asks knocking back his drink, downing it all.

  “Mr. Foster, may I speak freely, sir?” Eva asks.

  “The floor is yours, Ms. Cruz,” he says with a wink. “Relax, everyone, it’s been a long day, have a drink or two. Come on, lay it on me. I’ll be fine as long as Blake didn’t get anyone pregnant or find a girl overdosed on the yacht.”

  I giggle nervously and take a sip of my wine as Jen pours fresh ice water in our goblets. Another server places dinner rolls and salads in front of us.

  “I respect you very much, Charles. In the short time I’ve been at your company, I’ve fallen in love with the yachting industry. In fact, working for you has inspired me to go back to school for my MBA,” she stops to take a breath looking nervously at him. He gestur
es with his hand for her to continue and get to her point.

  “Here’s the thing, Charles—Blake and I are together,” she boldly states in signature Eva Cruz style.

  Charles throws down his napkin in disgust, and I look down. Shit, he’s not going to let this happen.

  “Blake, you needed this set up just to tell me that? Haven’t you got any balls, boy? Dragging Ryan and his date here to hold your hand? Man up already. You’re going to be twenty-nine, Charles scoffs.

  “Sir—” Blake starts, but he can’t get a word in.

  “It was my idea, Charles.” Eva stands from the table pointing a finger at her own chest.

  “Out of respect for you, I wanted to be the one to make sure it was alright. I can’t have you speaking to my man that way and I need you to apologize.”

  She crosses her arms and taps her foot. I hope she doesn’t get fired, Eva Cruz just stood her ground against Charles Foster, holy shit.

  “Bravo. Ms. Cruz, Bravo! When you first came in for an interview, I saw something special in you. I’m right, always am. You’ve got some grit. You’re a real go-getter, the best hire my firm has had in a long time. I admire your honesty and integrity, too.”

  When Charles finishes, you can feel the energy in the room change and we all let out the collective breath we were holding.

  Charles slumps in his seat and moves a few fingers through his hair sighing, “My apologies, to both Eva and Vanessa. It’s been a long week and I didn’t anticipate having to go into the office today. Then my girlfriend, Elizabeth, canceled seeing me this weekend at the last minute. And I’m too used to the random women the two of you always have around the house.” He points to Blake and Ryan. “I’m sorry for being rude, Eva. I thoroughly appreciate you wanting to be transparent regarding this. I wouldn’t expect any less from you.

  We’re a small company with fewer than forty people, without a formal human resource department. If the both of you can assure me to keep things professional at the office, I don’t have an issue. But things can’t get messy, especially when this doesn’t work out.”

 

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