Table of Contents
Synopsis
Praise for Jean Copeland
By the Author
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
About the Author
Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
Summer Fling
Kate Randall is a successful, sophisticated attorney terminally jaded since the demise of her long-term relationship. Now with best friends Didi and Viv by her side, she’s savoring single life and the sweet taste of hard-won independence. As her friends navigate the poignant and amusing pitfalls of finding lasting love in their forties, she’s quite content to watch from behind a cosmo.
But when the girls drag Kate to a Pride event, sexy young singer Jordan Squire rocks the stable foundation Kate had struggled for years to build. Despite Kate’s protests, Jordan’s charms prove too powerful to resist, and they fall into a passionate summer love affair. But even if Kate can conquer her fear of repeating the past, can their relationship withstand the pressures of a significant age difference and the demands of Jordan’s burgeoning music career?
Praise for Jean Copeland
The Revelation of Beatice Darby
“Debut author Jean Copeland has come out with a debut novel that is abnormally superb.”—Curve Magazine
“…filled with emotion and the understanding of what it feels like for a girl to discover that she likes girls and what it will do to her life.”—The Lesbian Review
“Uplifting and an amazing first novel for Jean Copeland.”—Inked Rainbow Reads
The Second Wave
“This is a must-read for anyone who enjoys romances and for those who like stories with a bit of a nostalgic or historic theme.”—The Lesbian Review
“Copeland shines a light on characters rarely depicted in romance, or in pop culture in general.”—The Lesbrary
Summer Fling
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Summer Fling
© 2017 By Jean Copeland. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-982-2
This Electronic Original is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: September 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Shelley Thrasher
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Melody Pond
By the Author
The Revelation of Beatrice Darby
The Second Wave
Summer Fling
Acknowledgments
Writing is a solitary process for sure, but sharing it with the world is anything but. That’s why I have so many people to thank for their contributions during every step of my novel-writing journey. I’ll start with the readers who buy my books and motivate me to write with steadfast discipline. To my lifelong friends, proofreader Anne Santello and photographer Denise Spallone, for their eagerness to assist me in any capacity needed. To all my other friends, near and far, who faithfully buy my books, retweet my tweets, and share Facebook posts promoting my work. I’m also thankful for the professional support I receive from the ladies at Bold Strokes Books, my tireless editor, Shelley Thrasher, and the sister BSB authors whom I also call friends. Of course, I’d be remiss if didn’t thank my father, James, for his endless support of everything I’ve ever done, and my girlfriend, Jen, for her patience and willingness to schlep all over with me to signing events.
In memory of Sandy “Sondy” Choronzy Borchert
You’ll always be part of our cocktail parties.
Chapter One
The Intervention
Kate Randall knelt in the cemetery and ran her fingers over the grass under which lay buried memories of the woman she was supposed to spend her life with. She’d lost Lydia exactly four years ago and was grateful that her best friend, Didi Huston, had decided it was too hot to hike across the grounds with her. She needed a moment to reflect.
“Kate,” Didi shouted. She trudged up the embankment, fanning her ample cleavage and glistening olive skin with a handful of paper napkins. “What the hell are you doing up here?”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked, playing innocent. “I’m visiting my father’s grave.”
“Your father’s grave is over…” Didi’s red, overheated face blanched. “For the love of Edith Windsor, Kate,” she roared. “Seriously?”
“What? It was hot over there. I needed some shade.” She stood quickly and brushed grass clippings from her knees.
Didi glared at her. “You’re looking for that urn of card and photo ashes, aren’t you?”
Kate wilted in shame. “Today’s the anniversary of when I lost Lydia.”
“Yeah. You lost her all right—to the skank she cheated on you with. Viv and I didn’t come over that night with a bottle of vodka and an acetylene torch so I could find you meditating over her burnt-up crap four years later. It’s sick.”
“Okay, Didi,” Kate said calmly. “Point taken.”
“We buried it here for you to symbolically lay that bitter part of your past to rest—not to rehash it every year.”
“I’m aware of that,” Kate said.
“How are you supposed to move on with someone new if you’re still hanging on to that baggage?”
“I said all right. I had a little slipup. In retrospect, we probably should’ve buried it on the other side of the cemetery, not so close to my dad.”
“Um, okay, fine, but I’m not helping you exhume anything today. It’s too friggin’ hot. Now let’s go.” Didi looped her arm through Kate’s. “Viv is waiting for us. We have to get to the train station. Hi, Mr. Randall,” she said as they passed Kate’s father’s headstone. “I’m only glad Viv wasn’t here to witness this.”
Kate rolled her eyes as Didi led her from the cemetery like a teacher dragging her to the principal’s office.
On the train ride into New York City, Didi and Kate sat quietly, each scrolling her cell phone. Suddenly, Kate’s dinged with an email notification.
“What the hell?” Her jaw nearly unhinged as she read the email.
Didi glanced out the window.
“Dee, why am I getting a notification from a woman on a dating site that I never signed up for?”
Didi eluded Kate’s eyes by checking her phone. “How do you know you didn’t sign up for it? Maybe you forgot.”
“I’ve never signed up for a dating site in my life. Please tell me this isn’t your handiwork.”
“No, honest,” Didi said. “But it’s a brilliant idea, nonetheless.”
“No, it isn’t.” Kate planted her elbows on her knees and frantically composed a text. “Fucking Viv. Wait till I get my hands around her skinny brown neck.”
“Kate, don’t blast her a new one.”
“Don’t blast her a new one? She’ll be lucky if that’s all I do to her.”
“Keep it down,” Didi said out of the corner of her mouth. “We’re in the quiet car. They’re gonna escort you off at the next stop like they do the crazies.”
“You two have pulled a lot of stunts with me over the last year, but this has gone too far.”
“Just tell her to deactivate the account. No biggie.”
“You’re missing the point again, Didi. I’m single because I want to be. I don’t need you guys meddling in my personal life like there’s something wrong with it. It doesn’t need fixing.”
“Kate, Lydia left four years ago. You say you’re over her, but you make no effort to get out and meet anyone. And then I catch you being all weird and morose over her in a cemetery.”
“I am over her,” Kate said. “If you want the truth, that moment wasn’t about her at all. It was about me honoring how strong I’ve become since she left.”
Didi squeezed her hand. “You have. You’re a different person now, a much better one. You dealt with your codependency issues in therapy, and I’ve never seen you more confident and content in the thirty-plus years I’ve known you.”
Kate smiled and held her hand in return. “Aww, thanks, Didi.”
“Now don’t you think it’s time you find someone to share all this fabulousness with?”
Kate groaned in defeat. “I will someday, when the right woman comes along. And not through the devious, half-assed schemes you and Viv keep plotting.”
“I beg your pardon. Devious? Half-assed?”
“Come on. Look what I’ve had to endure over the last year. On three separate occasions, I think we’re going to happy hour only to have a random single woman you know happen to show up. I almost wouldn’t have minded the scam if they were even remotely right for me.”
“They were lovely ladies. You’re too picky.”
“Let’s not forget when we went to dinner, and you failed to mention the lesbian speed-dating event at the restaurant. That you signed me up for. And now this?”
Kate’s email dinged again.
“Oh, look.” She handed her phone to Didi. “She’s seventy-three and from North Dakota. She wants to chat with me. Am I being too picky if I decline?”
“She’s attractive for her age, and she’s well-educated,” Didi said meekly.
“That’s great, except I’m forty-seven and live in Connecticut.”
Didi glanced at the screen. “But it says she’s willing to relocate for the right woman.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Well, you can’t expect to hit the jackpot on every spin.”
“Do you know how to get me off this site?” Kate shoved her phone at her. “Viv isn’t answering my text.”
“She probably went into hiding,” Didi mumbled as she poked at the account deactivation screen.
Kate slumped down in the seat, closed her eyes, and sighed.
“C’mon. Don’t be mad at us, Katie. Yes, our efforts have been somewhat unorthodox at times, but we love you and just want you to be happy.”
“Then leave me alone.”
“Kate, are you really mad at us?”
She let Didi stew for a while.
“Kate?” Didi elbowed her in the side.
“Not mad, frustrated. I’m fine being single, and I don’t want you and Viv to pressure me anymore.” Her tone softened. “Just because you’re both pussy hounds.”
“Pussy hound?” Didi said. “I’ll take that to mean I have to make up for a lot of lost time.”
“What’s Viv’s excuse?”
“She’s, um, how shall I put this? She’s, uh…strong-minded. Once she finds the woman she wants, she doesn’t give up without a fight.”
“Yeah,” Kate said. “Her stalking case was the most challenging of my legal career. It nearly precipitated an early retirement.” She chuckled.
“I can’t believe her father didn’t know any judges he could’ve thrown money at.”
“He didn’t need to,” Kate said. “I did a fine job on her defense. She doesn’t have a record, thanks to my legal expertise.”
“I hope you’ve calmed down enough that when you see her in fifteen minutes, you don’t end up with a record of your own.”
“Am I off that site?”
“Yes,” Didi said. “And I promise not to meddle any more.”
“Good.” Kate smiled and patted her hand.
Didi smiled back. “As far as I’m concerned, you can die a reclusive old woman surrounded by your thirty-seven loving felines.”
Kate glared at her. “When you commit to something, you don’t screw around.”
“Damn right. This actually works out better for me. One less beautiful, successful blonde to compete with. It’s bad enough all I have to do is glance in the direction of an attractive woman, and Viv appears like cockroaches in the kitchen of a Times Square theme restaurant.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to watching two middle-aged lesbians battle for the same woman at an overcrowded bar.”
“You’ll be sorry you’re not in the game. Tonight’s the Pride Week kickoff at Moxy’s. It’s going to be epic.”
“I don’t know how I let you convince me to come.”
Didi smiled. “Like Bobby Darin sings, there’s nothing like Sundays in New York.”
“Maybe I’ll go home after dinner,” Kate said.
“No way,” Didi said as the train screeched into the station. “You’re always working or making up excuses why you can’t go out with us. You owe your two best friends a girls’ day in the City.”
“Fine.”
They bumped shoulders as the train lurched to a halt.
“You can run interference for me with Viv when I spot the woman of my dreams,” Didi said. “I need all the help I can get.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You have so much to offer a woman.”
Didi pursed her lips. “Her father’s a millionaire and her mother’s a former supermodel. She’s got it all. What do I have going for me? I’m a middle-class legal secretary with minimal experience with women and a big Italian ass. No contest.”
“Yes, she’s got all that, but she’s also a stage-five clinger. She may get the ladies, but she has a worse track record with long-term relationships than Taylor Swift.”
Didi shook her head. “I’d love to have her problems for a day.”
“Hey,” Kate said, patting Didi’s shoulder. “Where’s all this self-doubt coming from? You’re adorable, funny, and you’ll make some woman a wonderful wife someday—when you finally outgrow your lesbian puberty.”
Didi leaned her head against Kate’s. “Thanks, Katie. And don’t worry. My future wife and I won’t let you spend holidays alone having 9-Lives casserole for dinner.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, mamas,” Viv yelled as they walked out of Grand Central Station into the blistering heat of Forty-second Street.
“Our chariot,” Kate said, indicating the open limousine door.
The girls crawled into the Chanel No. 5–scented car, and Vivienne swept them up in a group hug as the chauffeur drove off.
“Damn,” Didi said. “I’m glad your daddy’s rich and your mama’s good-looking. It’s hot as Hades out there.”
Viv sucked her teeth. “Girl, whatchu mean about my parents? I’m rich, and I’m good-looking. But don’t get any ideas.”
“Yeah, right,” Didi said. “You’re not my type.”
“Why? Because I’m biracial?”
“No, because you’re an a-hole.”
The ladies roared with laughter.
“How I’ve missed my gi
rls,” Viv said. “I’m honored you could finally carve some time out of your busy schedule, Kate.”
“Don’t push it, Viv,” Kate said. “I only got over being violently pissed at you fifteen minutes ago.”
Vivienne threw her arm around Kate. “Look. I’m sorry about that dating site. It wasn’t meant as a prank or anything. I sincerely thought it might be the push you needed to put yourself out there.”
“What’s so great about being ‘out there’?” she asked. “You two are out there. How’s that been working out for you?”
Didi and Viv exchanged helpless glances.
“Can’t we just have a genuine girls’ night out? A nice dinner and some drinks after at the club?”
“Of course,” Viv said.
Didi nodded. “Absolutely.”
“No skirt-chasing,” Viv said.
Didi confirmed the promise. “Just the three of us.”
“You guys are so full of it,” Kate said.
They cackled at Kate as Viv popped the cork on a bottle of Dom Perignon.
Chapter Two
The Setup
The bass of Moxy’s house music thrummed through Kate’s lungs. She scanned the eclectic crowd of women as she sipped a cosmo. Never a fan of the bar scene, she’d found it particularly disheartening to be tossed back into the tempest in her forties. But since she was there with her friends, she figured she might as well seize the moment—after she stifled a yawn.
Didi and Viv, on the other hand, were like college students on dollar draft night.
“One night at Moxy’s is all it takes,” Didi said, her eyes ravaging the pages of Girl Talk.
“For what?” Viv sipped from a flute of Cristal.
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