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Trophy Wife

Page 8

by Bethany Lopez


  There was a lot going on, but for some reason, it all worked beautifully. It is quintessentially Summer.

  “I brought a lemon cake,” I told her, lifting the box in my arms as evidence.

  “Oh, yum, you can set it on the counter,” she said, gesturing toward the kitchen, which was right off the living room. It was an open concept, with a long counter separating the two rooms.

  There were two doors, other than the entrance, one off the living room, and one off the kitchen. Since Summer told me it was a one-bedroom apartment, I figured one of the doors led to her room and the other was some sort of closet or pantry.

  “It smells great in here,” I said, breathing in scents of garlic, oregano, and something else I couldn’t quite place. “What are you making?”

  “It’s my meatloaf, along with mashed potatoes and some roasted brussels sprouts,” Summer said, her tone somewhat shy.

  “Wow, really? That sounds fantastic.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat while I finish up,” she suggested, pointing to one of the stools on the side of the counter.

  I put down the cake box and took a seat, just as Summer got a beer out of the fridge, opened it, and placed in in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “So, what makes this your specialty?”

  “It’s one of the only things my mom taught me to make. At least, the basic recipe. Over the years I’ve tweaked it and added ingredients until I got it the way I liked it. And now she usually asks me to make it for her every few months. It makes a few portions, so she can have leftovers, which she likes.”

  “So, you still see her a lot?”

  “Probably not as much as I should, but I get over there when I can. I hate to say it, but I usually end up leaving sad or feeling bad about myself, so it always feels like a real chore to go.”

  I frowned, hating that for her. Summer deserved a family who cherished her and celebrated the wonderful person she was, not someone who made her feel like crap. I wished she could have had parents like my own.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling like it was a lame but true sentiment.

  “That’s okay,” Summer said with an easy shrug. She picked up her own beer and held it out, so I complied and lifted mine as well. She tapped the necks together and said, “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  “So, I bet you were thrilled to find out about your promotion, huh? I’m so happy for you, and I’m glad you’re willing to celebrate such an accomplishment with me.”

  “Of course,” I said, my stomach growling as she started to plate up the food. “Actually, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come with me to the faculty dinner to celebrate all of the promotees.”

  Summer paused with a spoon full of mashed potatoes hanging above the plate.

  “You want me to come to a work function with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like a ‘get dressed up and mingle with your coworkers’ kind of deal?”

  “Exactly,” I said, wondering why her eyes were getting bigger.

  Summer squealed, startling me so I almost dropped my beer.

  “I’d love to,” she said, dropping the spoon on the plate and dancing around the counter to throw her arms around me.

  “Trent and his wife, Cam, will be there. Maybe my parents. Those are the important people, everyone else will just be staff.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait. I’m sure Cam and I will get along fabulously.”

  I grinned at her and agreed. “I know you will.”

  “When is it?” she asked, her arms still resting casually around my neck, as if we held each other all the time.

  I found I really liked it.

  “It’s looking like next Friday night, but I’ll let you know once it’s confirmed.”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll have your dinner on Friday and Whitney’s bridal shower on Saturday. It’s going to be such a fun weekend.”

  “Actually, our faculty dinners are kind of boring,” I warned her.

  “I promise you won’t be bored with me there,” she said with a saucy wink.

  I chuckled and replied, “I believe you.”

  21

  Summer

  “Hey, Mom,” I called out as I opened the door to her house.

  I made sure to shut and lock the steel security door before closing and locking the front door.

  My mom’s neighborhood had steadily been getting worse over the years, and although there hadn’t been any thefts or crime, she was paranoid about someone breaking in. She made sure all the windows and doors were locked at all times, even though everything was reinforced with steel bars.

  “Back here,” she called, her voice coming out weak and raspy.

  She’d been a pack-a-day smoker for as long as I could remember, and as far as she was concerned, that was never going to change.

  I looked around the unkept space as I moved through the living room to her bedroom. There were dirty dishes and random trash scattered about, along with a couple overflowing ashtrays.

  With a sigh, I shook my head and continued down the hall.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked as I entered her room.

  She was laying on the bed, a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth, her eyes glued to the small old TV sitting atop her dresser.

  It looked like she was watching a soap opera.

  “I didn’t think they still made those,” I remarked as I stepped closer.

  “There are only a few left, but General Hospital has always been my favorite anyway, so that’s all I care about.”

  “I brought you some leftovers. I made meatloaf the other night and thought you might like some. You can have it for lunch.”

  “Just set it down over there,” she said, gesturing her cigarette toward an empty spot on the bed next to her. There wasn’t must space left, since the surface was covered with old magazines, a paperback, and a bunch of used paper plates.

  “Can I get you anything? A drink?” I asked, itching to go back into the other room and start cleaning.

  “Coke if I have any,” was her reply.

  I found an almost empty two-liter in the fridge and poured it into a glass to take to her. Once I’d placed it on her nightstand, I quickly left her to her show and rolled up my sleeves as I mentally thought out the most efficient way to tackle the job ahead.

  First, I walked to the kitchenette to grab one of the gallons of vinegar I left under the sink and poured some in a pot to boil on the stove. Then I walked around and refilled the small bowls I kept around the house.

  Vinegar was one of the few things that would help get the smell of cigarette smoke out of her house. I also had some of those automatic spray air fresheners strategically placed around, but without the vinegar to take away the smell, the air freshener would just partially mask it, which just made the house smell like smokey violets.

  Once that was done, I put the vinegar away and got out a large trash bag. I started in the living room, then moved to the kitchen, bathroom, and finally, the bedroom. My mother always complained when I was picking up in her space, so I usually tried to save it for last and get in and out as quickly as possible.

  “Dammit, Summer, do you have to be doing that during my shows? Can’t a woman get some goddamn peace in her own home?”

  “Sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” I muttered, grabbing trash and shoving it in the bag.

  I left the full bag by the front door to take out when I left and moved back to the kitchen to get the Windex and a rag. I cleaned as much as I could, then grabbed the vacuum. I’d have to skip vacuuming her room, since she was in there watching her shows. If she was in the kitchen, or even sitting on the ratty old couch, she could usually tolerate the noise, but not when she’d confined herself to a day in bed, which I knew was the case today.

  After everything was as clean as it could get, I put all the supplies back where I got them and turned off the burner before going back to see my mother.

  “Can I get anything el
se for you before I go?”

  She looked at me for the first time since I’d arrived and scowled.

  “Leaving so soon? So, you think all you gotta do is bring me your old food and disrupt my shows and then you’ve fulfilled your obligation as a daughter? No time to actually sit down and visit?”

  “You usually don’t want me to talk to you when you’re watching your shows,” I said calmly, not wanting to get into a fight with her.

  “Since when do you care about what I want? With your highfalutin self … fancy cars and rich old guys who do nothing but treat you like trash. Guess your shit stinks just like the rest of us.”

  “Mom,” I whispered, hoping she’d stop.

  “I told you that Jared would step out on you just like he did his other wife, but you didn’t believe me. Thought your magic vagina would make him stay, but I told you so. Now he’s filled up some new hussy’s belly with the baby you always wanted. Bet that stings, doesn’t it.”

  My throat started to burn, and my nose stung, but I tried to shake it off.

  If my mother saw any sort of reaction, she’d only get worse.

  “I’ve got to go to work, so I’m going to get going. You call if you need anything, okay?” I was proud when my voice came out strong and not shaky.

  She scoffed.

  “Yeah, get your fancy ass down to Helen and her fancy shop with her clothes no one in their right mind would shop at.” Her lips got thin, and her eyes hardened. “Two-hundred dollars for a shirt … ridiculous.”

  “Don’t say that. Helen’s your best friend. She’s been there for you since you were little,” I said, hoping to get through, but when she shifted, I noticed the top of a liquor bottle peaking up from beneath the blanket.

  I should have known she’d been drinking.

  “Yeah, some best friend, living up on her high horse while I rot away in this shithole.”

  Knowing nothing good would come out of staying in this situation, I told her once more I was leaving and then got out of there as fast as my heels would take me.

  22

  Noah

  I fiddled with my bow tie as I waited for Summer to finish getting ready.

  It was Friday evening, and we were heading to the faculty dinner celebrating the new promotes. I’d been excited about it until I saw the attire was formal and realized I’d have to wear a tie.

  Why anyone thought it was a good idea to voluntarily wear a noose around their neck, I had no idea.

  It was the worst invention ever.

  “Stop messing with it, it looks great.”

  I turned toward the sound of Summer’s voice and was struck dumb by the sight of her. Her dress was black and form fitting, showing off her generous curves to perfection. The straps were off the shoulder and there was a long slit up her left thigh.

  Her eyes were knowing, and her grin could only be described as mischievous as she spun around in front of me to show me that the dip in the back mirrored the front.

  “Holy Toledo!” I exclaimed.

  Summer giggled and said, “I’d hoped you’d like it.”

  “Like it? It’s honestly the best thing I’ve ever seen, including the first time I saw Suzy, but if you tell my family I said that I’ll deny it with my dying breath.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  We closed up Summer’s place and walked out to my car. It was a nice night so far, not too cool, so she’d decided to forgo any kind of jacket. I had to admit, I was one-hundred percent on board with her decision not to cover up the dress.

  As I pulled out of the lot, Summer turned to me and asked, “What does that mean, anyway? Holy Toledo. I’ve always wondered.”

  “Oh, well, there are a few different meanings, actually. Toledo, Spain was the first city in the region to embrace Christianity. Then there’s the more recent in Toledo, Ohio, nineteen twenties and thirties, to be exact. It was agreed upon between the police and the gangsters of the time, that if the cops would leave them alone, they would leave Toledo alone. So, it became a sanctuary. And finally, there’s a sexual meaning…”

  Once I recalled the meaning my cheeks reddened and I started stumbling over my words.

  “Trent, uh, actually told me about that one. But it’s not something I feel comfortable repeating.”

  “Really?” Summer said, laughing lightly. “Must be a doozy.”

  I tugged at my bow tie again. It suddenly felt extremely hard to breathe.

  “Mm,” I muttered noncommittally.

  Summer leaned back in her seat and let out a happy sigh, and I knew she was letting me off the hook.

  Is it any wonder I’m falling for her?

  Wait. What?

  If I hadn’t been driving, I would have slid right out of my seat. Instead, I sat up taller, trying to look cool and not like I’d just completely freaked myself out.

  “Is everything okay?” Summer asked softly from beside me.

  I shot her a quick glance before turning my eyes back toward the road. “Uh, yeah, why?”

  “You look like someone just shoved a rod in your spine all of a sudden.”

  “Oh, look, we’re here,” I muttered as I swung into the parking lot.

  Once I found a spot, I parked and hurried around the car to open Summer’s door.

  “Thank you,” she said, her hand in mine causing a jolt to run up my arm. She got out of the car and tucked her arm through mine.

  The restaurant was one the admin of the school seemed to love, since they chose it for every function we had. I didn’t mind. I enjoyed the ambience, which was kind of leather and stuffy, like an old cigar bar but without the smoking.

  And they served the best crab cakes I’d ever had.

  I walked in with my head held high, proud to have Summer on my arm, but inside I was a mass of confusion.

  Summer and I hadn’t known each other that long in the grand scheme of things, so there was no way I could actually be falling for her, right? It defied the laws of, well, my life. I’d never been one to jump into things, but rather the guy who eased into the shallow end until each section of my body was comfortable with being submerged.

  “If it isn’t the man of the hour,” Trent said as he and Cam met us in the banquet room.

  “Water,” I said, strangely and without prompting.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What? I mimicked, unsure of what I said.

  “Did you say you want water?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied, suddenly thinking a glass of water sounded magnificent.

  Trent gave me a curious look, but simply said, “They have water at the tables. Do you want to get a drink at the bar, too?”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Sorry for these two and their rudeness,” Cam said, grabbing my attention. “I’m Cam, this one’s better half.”

  Oh crap.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said hurriedly. “Summer, this is Cam and Trent, who you’ve seen before, and guys, this is Summer.”

  I really need to pull myself together.

  They all shook hands and I glanced at Summer and asked, “What would you like to drink?”

  “White wine,” she said easily, completely unruffled by my behavior.

  I nodded and indicated for Trent to lead the way.

  “Everything okay, man?” Trent asked when we got to the bar and out of earshot.

  I did some sort of laugh, head shake combo, that had him narrowing his eyes on me.

  “Spill,” he said.

  “I think I’m falling in love with Summer,” I whispered.

  “No shit. Well, who could blame you? Have you seen that dress?” Trent looked over his shoulder at Summer and I had the sudden urge to punch him. “I mean, even Cam is falling in love over there. It’s totally understandable. She’s a terrific woman.”

  I followed his gaze to see Summer laughing at something Cam said and was struck anew by how she made me feel.

  “She really is,” I said with a sigh. “But I’ve never felt this wa
y. I never expected it to happen so fast. What if it’s just infatuation? I don’t want to speak too soon and then be wrong.”

  “Then wait. Wait until you’re sure of your feelings. And once you know you love her, shout it from the rooftops. You deserve happiness, but you don’t have to say anything until you’re comfortable with your feelings and feel confident in sharing them.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I grabbed our drinks. “That’s actually good advice.”

  “I know, right? It doesn’t happen often, but when it does … gold.”

  The ladies had found our table and joined my parents. I placed our drinks on the table and bent to give Summer a quick kiss and reassuring smile before taking my seat beside her. She shot me a wink before turning to Trent on her other side.

  “Hey,” I heard her whisper. “What does Holy Toledo mean?”

  Trent let out a bark of laughter and I covered my face with my hands.

  Lord, save me.

  23

  Summer

  “Everything looks so beautiful,” I gushed as I walked around the party room in the Italian restaurant Whitney’s bridal shower was being held in.

  I guess Luca’s mom had wanted to have it at her house and cook everything, but everyone had talked her out of it, saying this way she could simply enjoy being mother of the groom and not be working the whole time.

  From the look on her face as she tried the hors d'oeuvres on the table, she was not impressed.

  The room had been decorated in Whitney’s wedding colors, which were going to be dusty blue and gold with lots of greenery. And if this room was any indication, her actual wedding was going to be positively gorgeous.

  The tablecloths were dusty blue with gold accents on the table and there were fresh green plants located all around, giving it an elegant and earthy feel.

  Stella and Mrs. Russo had really outdone themselves.

 

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