by Silke Ming
“We will deal with it,” she said.
“Will you stand by me?” he asked, holding onto her hand.
“I’m here for the long haul. I love you, don’t you know that?”
“I need reassurance at this time,” he said.
She moved closer to him and hugged and kissed him.
“I will never leave you, Seamus. Whatever we must face, we will face it together.”
“I must get out for a while,” he said. “I’m going crazy.”
“Let’s go for a long walk,” she replied. “The caterers won’t be here before three to pick up their stuff.”
“I guess we won’t be able to go out then.”
“I can call them and ask them to come a little later,” she said.
Dressed in their winter jackets, the couple went down to the shoreline and walked along the beach. Seamus was unusually quiet.
“Don’t torture yourself,” she said to him. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I know, but it is only human nature to worry.”
“I wanted to ask you something,” she said. “I know this may not be the right time to ask, but have you considered giving Rachel and Millie a bit of extra money?”
“Why?” he asked, surprise showing on his face.
“They have both posed for two beautiful paintings which brought you quite a big sum of money.”
“I guess I should. I never thought anyone would be interested in Millie’s portrait, but it was one of the first items to be sold.”
“I know they will both appreciate the extra cash,” she said.
They walked for one and a half hours, and when they returned, the caterers were waiting, and also three reporters along with their cameramen.
“Let’s pretend we don’t know why they’re here,” said Summer. “Who knows? They are probably here for a completely different reason.”
“Mr. Balsam,” they shouted as they proceeded up the driveway. “Do you know where Fred Podesta is?”
“I have no idea,” he said politely.
“We know that you have been good friends with Mr. Podesta and his wife. Do you know where they are hiding out?”
“I don’t know,” he said, gripping Summer’s arm tightly.
“Mr. Balsam, we heard there was a party here last night and Mr. Podesta was among the invited guests. Do you know where he went when he left here?”
“Yes, that’s correct. There was a surprise birthday party for me last night and he was among the guests, but I have no idea where he went after the party was over.”
“We also know that his companion who was arrested with him was his dominatrix? Did you know that he was a masochist?”
“We were friends, but I knew nothing that personal about his life,” he said, his heart thumping wildly.
“Let’s go inside,” Summer whispered.
“Good evening. I must go now,” he said.
“One more question before you go, Mr. Balsam,” shouted another reporter. “Did you know that Mr. Podesta was embezzling funds to support his wife’s extravagant lifestyle?”
“I know no such thing. Mr. Podesta nor Mrs. Podesta ever discussed their finances with me.”
“Let’s go inside,” Summer whispered again.
“I must go, gentlemen. Good evening.”
They entered the house and both leaned against the door. It was such a relief to be away from the hounds. Once they smelled blood, nothing was going to keep them away. The caterers were almost through packing up and were ready to go. Summer opened the door to find that their lives had returned to normal. They had all disappeared. She knew, however, that they would be back again. They decided not to watch any more television that evening. It was just too depressing to see the pictures of Fred. Yes, he was a strange man, but he was also a generous man.
“Where do you think they went?” Summer asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Will she stand by him now, or will she leave him in the lurch? He has really embarrassed her, you know,” said Summer.
“I can’t second-guess Lana and I won’t try. I know she is a very selfish woman, but I don’t know what she will do in a situation like this. They’ve got lots of influential friends who can hide them from the reporters.”
“Let’s hope so. It’s in situations like this that you really know who your friends are.”
“Let’s go to bed,” he said.
“And make sure you pull the blinds down. Let us be one hundred percent sure that they can’t look in. I don’t want to be on the front page of tomorrow’s newspaper.”
* * * *
The following morning, they were awakened to the sound of furniture being moved. Millie had arrived and was in the process of cleaning up.
“I’m going down to help her,” said Summer.
“I’ll stay here a little longer,” Seamus said.
“Come on. Get up. It will make you feel better.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Millie picked up the newspaper on the way up, and Seamus scoured it for the latest news concerning Fred Podesta. All that was mentioned was that he had hidden away lots and lots of money in secret bank accounts, and that his passport had been confiscated for fear of his leaving the country. Happily, Seamus Balsam’s name was not mentioned. But what about Lana? Would she also in time be arrested for complicity? Apparently no one knew where they were, and all the homes of their friends were staked out waiting for them to show their faces.
“I can’t believe it,” said Millie. “He seemed like such an outstanding member of the community. And that pretty girl who was with him, why did they arrest her? There is nothing wrong with being dominant. Sometimes a woman must be dominant. Men need it sometimes.”
Summer could hardly believe her ears, and in spite of the rain clouds hanging over their heads, they both started to laugh. They knew that Millie did not fully comprehend the situation.
“Did I say something funny?” she asked.
“A dominant is someone who inflicts pain on another. The other is called a masochist. He prefers the pain and the humiliation,” she said to Millie.
“So that means that this young girl would beat him and he would like it?” she asked.
“That’s more or less what it means. So you are not a dominant, Millie,” said Summer, trying to hide her laughter.
“I can’t understand someone beating me and my liking it,” said Millie. “Well it takes all kinds to make this strange world.”
“Did you see any reporters on the street?” asked Seamus.
“Not one. It is just as busy out there as it always is. Dead!”
It was three thirty and Millie had just driven away in her pickup truck, when they heard another engine coming up the driveway. Thinking Millie had forgotten something and returned, Summer opened the door and came face-to-face with Lana Podesta.
“What are you doing here?” Summer asked.
“May I speak to Seamus,” she said, looking past her.
“I’ll get him,” she said, closing the door and leaving her on the outside.
Seamus opened the door and stood in front of a pale and tired-looking Lana.
“Fred needs somewhere to stay,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I can’t, Lana. Reporters have been staking out my house all day, and I won’t do that to Summer.”
“He used to be your friend and was there for you when you were in need. Why can’t you help him now?”
“I just can’t, Lana. I’m very sorry,” he said. “Maybe one of your other friends will only be too happy to help you.”
* * * *
“Let’s get out of here, Summer,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
“Let’s use those airline tickets and leave here before shit hits the fan.”
“Won’t it look as if we’re running?” she asked.
“I don’t care how it looks. I don’t want to be more involved than I already am.”
&
nbsp; “Let’s lie on the beaches of Bora Bora and love each other until the sun rises and sets,” he said.
“Millie, this is for you,” said Seamus, handing her an envelope.
“May I open it?”
The woman could hardly believe her eyes. He had given her a check for five hundred dollars in addition to her wages for the weeks when they would be away.
“God bless you, my son,” she said to him. “May the gods smile down upon you, and may you have a long and happy life!”
“You’re so dramatic, Millie, but I love you. Would you also give this to Rachel,” he said, handing her another envelope. “She will come by and pick it up.”
Three days later Seamus and Summer left the country on their way to the South Pacific. Millie and Toby were the only ones who knew of their whereabouts, and no one could get the information out of them. They spent one night in Los Angeles, and once there, and that evening, they flicked every channel to see if there was any news on the Podestas. There was nothing. Early the following day, they boarded a flight for Tahiti, where they spent another night, and then it was onto Bora Bora. The flight from Tahiti lasted forty-five spectacular minutes, with the captain pointing out places of interest along the way. They looked down at the blue tropical water and all their troubles were temporarily forgotten. At the airport they were whisked away to their overwater bungalow where the staff greeted them with leis. They moved along the boardwalk, staring into the calm blue lagoon, and stopped to watch the dolphins playing around in the shallows. In their bungalow, their glass coffee table turned out to be an observation gallery where they could observe the sea creatures playing beneath the bungalow. Summer could not contain her happiness.
“You chose well,” he said, hugging her. “Thank you.”
“You would’ve done the same thing for me,” she said.
“Let’s get out and see what there is to see on the island.”
Car rentals were available, but he had no desire to drive, so they boarded the local bus and drove around the island. They didn’t seem to have a care in the world, he in his shorts and island shirt and she in the native dress of the island.
“I feel as if I’m on another planet, far away from the troubles of the world.”
“I feel the same way,” he said, looking at her tenderly and kissing her on the lips.
This brought giggles from the locals on board the bus who were watching their every move. After their five-hour tour around the island, they were on their way back to the hotel, when they noticed a kiosk with a number of tourists standing around. The owner was selling black pearls, and so Seamus made his purchase. A strand of black pearls for the woman he loved. He gently placed them around her neck and they continued their sightseeing tour.
“What’s on television?” he asked, throwing himself across the bed.
Back in their bungalow, they turned on the television, but there was nothing of interest and most of all, there was nothing about the Podestas. No one in Bora Bora knew about them and no one cared.
“Know what we forgot to do?” Seamus asked.
“What did we forget?”
“Come here and let me whisper it in your ear,” he said.
She smiled and kissed him.
“You’re right. It has really been a long time.”
“It’s very deserted here. Let’s go out and lie on the beach,” he said.
They removed their clothing and lay naked on the beach. Soon they were in each other’s arms.
His gentle side had begun to rear its beautiful head. Was it because of the tropical weather? Was it because he was no longer stressed? Whatever the reason, he seemed to submit his body and soul to the carefree life of the South Pacific. He was no longer as brash as he was when she first met him, which made her love him even more.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Meanwhile, far away from the aquamarine colors of the South Pacific, the muddy waters of the tsunami were slowly receding. The media and the citizens of the town of Whitney realized there was nothing that the police could hold over Fred Podesta’s head. They, however, could not believe that a clean-cut member of the community would frequent such houses of ill repute. The media still had not been able to locate either one of them, but the police knew exactly where to find them. At the glass house in the forest, they were still hanging around like flies attracted to honey, hoping to get a glimpse of the couple, if they were indeed hiding out there. Finding no activity at the Balsam home, they eventually gave up, but not before their many questions thrown at Mildred O’Reilly, who challenged them with her pickup truck to get out of her way. The media nicknamed her “the mad Irish woman.” They also discovered the teenager, Rachel, who couldn’t answer any of their questions, for she knew nothing about the Podestas.
Far away from the cold, grey weather of Maine, Seamus and Summer were still enjoying themselves, lying on the deserted beaches, drinking tropical cocktails, and making love wherever and whenever they desired.
“Seamus?”
“Yes, Summer.”
“Why didn’t you ever get a divorce? You have been separated for more than ten years.”
He paused before he spoke.
“I never met anyone I really loved, and I had no intention of ever marrying again, so there was no urgency to get a divorce, but that has all changed since I met you,” he said.
“Let’s stay here forever,” she said, looking into his eyes.
“Yes, let’s do that,” he said, staring up at the clouds floating by. “I will paint scenes just like Gaugin did. He loved it here on the islands. He lived among the local people and never returned to France.
“Unfortunately, we have other commitments at home,” she said.
“Yes we do,” he replied. “Summer, do you realize that I haven’t slept with another woman since I met you?”
“What about what’s-her-name?” she asked.
“Are you talking about Lana?”
“None other than the same lady,” she said, still lying on her back and staring into space.
“That was different,” he said. “That was revenge.”
“Oh, sweet revenge,” she said laughing.
“Yes, it was revenge, Summer. I couldn’t think of any other way to get even with her.”
“I’m sure she enjoyed her punishment,” she said.
“I don’t think so. She was forced to face reality.”
“I must remember that,” she replied. “When I become really upset with anyone, I must remember how to take my revenge.”
“I’m the only man you will ever show that kind of revenge,” he said, turning his head to look into her face.
He turned over and picked up his sketch pad with some sketches he had made while travelling around the island.
“This one is of you,” he said showing her a drawing. “You had just fallen asleep.”
“I look fat,” she said.
He stared at it, then closed it and laid it aside.
“Nonsense,” he said. “You are beautiful. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you,” he said to her.
“Don’t just say it. Show me,” she said.
“There’s nothing I would like better,” he said, kissing her deeply.
He rolled over on top of her, and they made love on the sand, under the tropical skies.
Later that evening, he turned his laptop on to find out what was going on in the outside world.
“There’s an email from Toby,” he said, staring at the computer screen.
“What does he have to say?”
“He says the coast is clear and we should come home.”
“What does that mean?”
“He says nothing could be found on the Podesta computers to incriminate the couple. Even though the police spent three weeks searching for the hidden funds, Fred, it seems, is a very clever man. The only thing left to face was the embarrassment of being arrested and having his face splattered across the Whitney Sentinel. That, he said, was the only t
hing on everyone’s tongue.”
“Anything on his wife?” she asked.
“He didn’t mention her.”
“He says he misses us because Joshua is in Italy on business and he is feeling lonely.”
“Toby feeling lonely?” she asked. “Was there anything else?”
“No, but let’s see what I can find on the Internet.”
She joined him and looked over his shoulder.
“There’s nothing new,” he said. “Do you think you’re ready to go home?”
“Not really,” she said falling into his lap.
“What a beautiful sight you are,” he said. “I love you without a stitch of clothing.”
She lifted her head and kissed him on the lips.
“I have something for you,” he said, sliding out from beneath her.
When he returned, he pulled her to him.
“Kiss me as if you mean it,” he whispered.
“I always kiss you like I mean it.”
“Come on, Summer. Kiss me.”
Her lips met his, and her tongue invaded his mouth. Suddenly she pulled away from him.
“What do you have in there?” she asked.
“Kiss me again and you will find out,” he said, running his hands up and down her body.
She kissed him, and he pushed something cold between her lips.
“When I am free, Summer Knight, I would like you to be my wife.”
She removed the object from her mouth and stared at it. A black pearl-and-diamond ring.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said as tears settled in her eyes. “There’s nothing that would make me happier.”
“When I think of the difficulties we faced in our relationship, I never thought we would ever be together,” he said, slipping the ring on her finger.
“Sometimes it was really tough, but we made it,” he said. “Yes, we’ve made it, Summer.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I have been a contemporary fictional writer for more than ten years and have written six novels to date. In 2013, I decided to try my hand at romance writing, thinking it would be easy. It was a real challenge. My husband and I are both avid travelers, and I plan to use this as an inspiration for future romance novels. I am also a gourmet cook, but reading is my passion and I read on an average at least one book per week.
