This was Southern California. Santa Barbara was a beach community. The guy’s suit screamed Brooks Brothers—not exactly wardrobe for a five-star beachy getaway.
Summer’s radar pinged when he looked at her, and without missing a beat, he put his phone to his ear. She had the strangest sensation as he continued to stare.
As she walked into the hotel lobby, it occurred to her that she might have seen him before but couldn’t remember where or when.
Striding with all the confidence she could muster, Summer made a straight line to the reception desk and smiled when one of the clerks said, “I can help you here.”
As she attempted to explain her predicament, an awkward and uncomfortable moment unfolded. The understanding she sought never happened.
Arnie Templeton was not a registered guest. No message had been left for Summer Warren.
When the desk clerk repeated her name, she realized Arnie probably didn’t even know her full name. Or care.
Dejected and confused, she turned to leave but only took a few steps before the young guy in the suit was practically standing on top of her.
Uncomfortably sure he’d been eavesdropping, she was about to confront him when a shrill, sneering voice brought Summer up short. Her head swiveled, and all the air got knocked out of her lungs.
Maleficent.
Summer knew a prophetic moment when one bit her on the ass. Caught in a predator’s sight, she held perfectly still.
“Well, well, well. Look who it is,” the well-dressed and obviously wealthy witch snarled. She had a throaty Kathleen Turner quality to her speech that gave Summer a chill.
“Let me guess,” she continued unabated. “Feeling the sting of a pump and dump?”
Summer’s mouth dropped open at the crude expression. She didn’t know who this horrible woman was, but she was exactly as dangerous as imagined.
“Excuse me?” she bit back with no lack of affront in her delivery.
“Save it,” Maleficent replied. “You aren’t the first and won’t be the last stupid working girl to surrender her panties for a shot at a rich guy’s wallet.”
She wasn’t going to stand there and take any more shit. Trying to brush past didn’t work because she’d gotten boxed in with her back against a wall and nowhere to go.
“How do you know Arnie?” Summer demanded. She felt it was better to stand her ground and punch back.
“Arnie? Oh, how droll. I can hardly contain my glee.”
What the hell did she mean? Summer narrowed her eyes and looked for the deeper meaning.
“Here’s the four-one-one on Arnie,” Maleficent drawled with loads of taunt in her tone. “He’s gone. Flew the coop. Checked out yesterday afternoon. Didn’t you know?”
There was no fucking way she was giving this evil bitch the satisfaction of wringing a reaction out of her. Some things just would not stand, and giving Maleficent the upper hand was at the top of the list.
Summer crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “Go on then. The whole speech—just the way you planned.”
Bitter laughter meant her comment hit a nerve.
“Smart girl.” Maleficent chuckled. “Will make the truth bomb detonating under you less stressful.” Her fake smile had a menacing, hostile vibe.
“Men like Arnie get off on dallying with the innocent. Girls like you fuel the furnace of their enormous egos. He was always going to leave. I will say, though, his running off without leaving a gratuity or a thank you at the very least was tacky.”
She didn’t need to feel the actual slap to know when she’d been insulted to her face. The way Summer saw it, she had two options. Slap the bitch across the face and walk away to wait for the police to show up or just walk away.
There really was no other choice than to shove past the awful woman and get the hell out of this place as quickly as possible.
Maleficent’s cackling laughter gave Summer goose bumps as she walked out of the Four Seasons, vowing never to set foot in the place ever again.
14
Seven Weeks Later …
“For Christ’s sake, Summer. Are you serious?”
Reed’s temper was on full display, and she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day a brother learned his only sibling, an unmarried sister, was pregnant.
She sat cross-legged on her big sofa and clutched a throw pillow to her middle while Reed paced back and forth and ripped her a new one.
“How the fuck did you let this happen? And what do you mean you don’t know where the father is? Jesus Christ, Summer. What the fuck have you been doing?”