Melissa Hill - The Summer Villa

Much like Antonio, her husband was an optimist at heart.

Now she could feel her mentor’s eyes following her as they meandered back out to the courtyard and down the steps to the pool terrace perched on the edge of the property. When she turned to look at him, the expression on his face said it all.

‘Don’t …’

He smiled weakly. ‘I’m sorry but thirty-odd years of marriage has taught me well. I know trouble when I see it.’ He stepped closer, taking Kim’s hand in his as he patted her knuckles. ‘Why don’t we go to lunch and you tell me everything? All right?’

But Kim didn’t want to talk about her personal life. She really didn’t. She had enough on her mind.

‘I won’t take no for an answer,’ he insisted gently and she knew there was no point in refusing.

While she’d never been able to talk to her father, to trust or confide in him, Antonio was so much more reliable. He understood her, sometimes even better than she did herself.

Minutes later, Kim leaned her head back against the plush leather seats of Antonio’s convertible Maserati as the car wound along the coast towards Sorrento. She gazed out over the water, catching sight of the magnificent island of Capri in the distance. She held her hand out, allowing the warm breeze to pass through her fingers as sunlight danced across the dazzling blue of the sea.

She would never, ever tire of this view and doubted there were many others in the world to compare.

This place had transformed her life six years ago.

Perhaps it could do the same again now.

Then

She could hear them already. The authoritative voices of her folks filled the house as Peter and Gloria Weston returned from yet another trip abroad.

Kim turned her music up and rolled over on her bed.

It was Saturday, the weekend, and she was doing what she did best – nothing. Which seemed to be all her life was about.

A steady stream of nothing.

It was bad enough that they still ran her life from a distance; with them home she’d have no peace.

Kim was in no hurry to face that. She turned her back to her bedroom door and rolled over.

She was twenty-nine years old and was still living at home, despite spending four years at business school at Cornell. And for what? She wasn’t exactly sure, other than the fact that it was her parents’ will at the time, and their dime. She enjoyed her studies, but since then, hadn’t had much opportunity to put her knowledge to work.

After graduation, her venture capitalist father had given her a position in his company, though he never seemed to let her do anything except put in the hours. And, of course, wine and dine any clients he sent her way.

She learned very early on in life to go along with what her folks wanted, or forfeit the luxury of their purse strings.

Kim liked her life, her Gucci bags and jaunts to the Caribbean, summers in the Hamptons and never-ending nights out in Manhattan. Or at least she did when she was in her teens and early twenties.

As time went on, things had begun to seem samey and, well… boring. But as much as she disliked being a pawn in the games her parents played, she didn’t really have the inclination or the means to deny them.

Now a hand on her shoulder was shaking her awake, though it was unnecessary as Kim wasn’t sleeping. She groaned inwardly, feeling a bit like a teenager.

‘Fast asleep in the middle of the day? How typical,’ her mother’s voice chided as Kim grabbed her iPhone and paused Spotify.

‘Nice to see you, too, Mother.’ She gave Gloria a mirthless grin that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and her mother gave her a deeply condescending glance in return.

Kim was used to those glances. She’d been getting them her entire life.

‘Do you plan on staying in bed all day, Kimberley?’

‘If I can help it, yes,’ she answered as she attempted to turn over. Attempted was as far as she got. ‘Tough night last night.’

‘I hope you took time out of your … busy partying schedule to meet with the tech people your father requested? They were only in town for a couple of days so it was very important to him that you entertain them.’

There was always some up-and-coming entrepreneur or other business type she was expected to ‘entertain’ on her parents’ behalf – apparently because she was hot, blonde, and knew all the trendiest haunts in Manhattan.

Kim hated her ditzy socialite role; it all felt so fake and manipulative. She felt she was capable of so much more, but there was no arguing. She’d tried many times and it never worked out well.

‘I took them to Hirohisa yesterday,’ she answered, rolling her eyes. ‘They loved it. Mr Clarke had a lovely time and said he looked forward to seeing Daddy in San Francisco.’

‘Good,’ her mother replied. ‘Very good.’

Gloria was sitting on the edge of the bed, just by Kim’s hip. She always sat in the same place; it was the perfect vantage point – far enough from her daughter to avoid direct eye contact and close enough to corner her if she tried to move away.

Her mother took everything into consideration before she acted, which was probably the main reason for her parents’ success. She weighed the odds, tested the waters and then launched her attack. In her mother’s long history of battles (as Kim saw them), she had never failed in her conquests.

‘Where’s Dad?’ Kim asked casually as she listened for noise within the house. It was silent, almost as if her father wasn’t there.

‘Downstairs on the phone. Your uncle called.’

‘Did he?’ Kim said enthusiastically. Ted was the only good thing in their family as far as she was concerned. He wasn’t the raging success her parents were – far less acclaimed in his field as a lowly accountant – but he was fun and Kim liked him a lot. Much more than her folks.

‘I don’t know why you’re so happy about it; he’s probably just trying to get your father to loan him more money to invest in yet another harebrained financial scheme.’ She wrinkled her nose in disdain.

‘Why do you never have anything good to say about Uncle Ted? He’s your brother.’

‘I have no control over family – sadly. Ted made his choices and I’ve made mine. The results speak for themselves.’

Her mother was always so goddamn controlled. Not once in Kim’s entire life had she ever seen her overcome by emotion. Most of the time she wondered if Gloria actually had any for anyone or anything outside her work.

Not even her father seemed to move her. It was always the job. Kim wasn’t sure if even that made her happy. There was no way of telling.

‘Stop lazing around up here and come downstairs,’ her mother ordered with a solid pat on Kim’s shoulder. ‘Your father and I need to speak with you about something.’

Kim sighed heavily. ‘What is it? I was in the middle of something.’

‘Downstairs in two.’

She watched as her mother swept out of the room as if nothing had transpired and Kim’s protests meant diddly squat. Which was exactly the case. It was just expected that she’d do as her mother demanded. Her words and opinions were meaningless in this house, in this family.

She picked up her phone again and texted her best friend Natasha.

Meet at the club tonight? I know I’m seriously gonna need to blow off steam when this day is over. Ugh.

She slapped her phone down on the mattress and forced herself from her bed, realising there was no putting it off.

She might as well find out whatever latest scheme her parents wanted her involved in. Probably just another skinny nerd with a great idea her father wanted Kim to show a good time by pretending to be Paris Hilton.