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My eyes narrow, anger pulsing in my temple, flooding my vision with red. “You were the one at the wine bar. The one in the bathroom. The one Summer swore she saw.” I rack my brain for the name. It started with an ‘L.’ Something Penrose, maybe.
“Go fuck yourself, Levi.” Summer is up on her feet, shaking from head to toe, but it’s not fear anymore. The color has drained from her face, aside from two bright patches of red in her cheeks, where pale roses normally bloom. Her hands clench into fists, and I don’t doubt she’s going to use them—and knows how—if I don’t do something. Maybe, it’s not my place to.
“I’d rather fuckyou,” Levi replies silkily, as I grip his collar tighter. “That old offer is still open, Summer. Kept wondering when you might call. So, thought I’d remind you that I’m still around, ready to scrape you up off the floor and show you what a real man is like.”
She’s going to kill him. If looks could, he’d already be a corpse on the ground.
“Did you get my gifts?” he carries on. “I think I paid more than you’re worth, but I don’t mind it. You can just pay me back another way, show me how appreciative you are.”
I’m confused. What gifts? Did I miss something? Is this an ex I don’t know about? Summer never mentioned one, but then it’s not like she owes me a list of her previous lovers. Then again, she’s not looking at him as if he’s someone she’s ever been fond of.
“I got your ‘gifts.’ Threw them in the trash, where they belong,” Summer spits. “What the hell is wrong with you, Levi? Why are you here? I know for damn sure that Cybil didn’t invite you, so if you don’t want to get a slap on the wrist for trespassing, or broken balls from where I’m about to kick you, you ought to leave.”
Levi grins, leaning away from me as I struggle to keep hold of him. “Benjamin Senior invited me. Well, he invited my pa, but same difference.”
“You’re not welcome. I’m surprised you’re daring to show your face,” Summer replies, not backing down. “After two years, I’ve got to wonder why you’ve crawled out from under your rock. People in this town don’t havethatshort of a memory, or is that why you’ve been creeping around New Orleans instead? That the only place where you can hide out?”
Levi slips out of my grip, losing a shirt button in the process. “I’m working, if you must know. Not throwing a dead guy’s money around like I earned it all. Guess that depends on your definition of ‘earned it’. You sure played him like a fiddle.”
“I loved him,” Summer rasps, giving him satisfaction that he’s clearly craving. I don’t even know the guy, and I can see he’s just trying to get a rise out of her. “I’d give back every cent if I could spend one more day with him!”
Levi laughs. “Sure you would. You’d give up your fancy garden district apartment and your cushy little gallery? Don’t think so, Summer.” He wags a patronizing finger. “I had you figured out the moment I met you. Nothing but a swindler, looking for the next big win, and a mark gullible enough.”
“You’re disgusting.” Summer marches up to him, gripping her champagne glass like she’s going to cut him to ribbons. “Always were, always will be, but now, you’ve not got daddy’s money or daddy’s connections to the cops to cover your ass. Everyone knows he cut you off, Levi. I assume that’s why you’re here, to try and beg his forgiveness for the billionth time. There’s no way he would’ve brought his joke of a son here, to this place, to this party, with any DuCate’s consent. You’re still lying through your teeth.”
I watch in awe as she gathers strength, right in front of my eyes. She’s still shaking all over, and I’m braced to jump in if she really does try to annihilate him with that champagne flute, but she’s got him on the ropes. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t impressive. I think I’ve seen a couple of sides to Summer, but this is a brand new one, and, honestly, I would never have guessed she had it in her.
Levi falters, drunkenly staggering backward. “You don’t know shit.”
“I know more than you think,” Summer shoots back. “And as long as I’m a part of this family, and I have DuCate as my surname, you’re not getting anything from anyone. One call to Cybil, to let her know that a rat snuck into her party, and she’ll have you hoofed out faster than you can say, ‘blackjack’. You barely had any luck back then, when you hovered around my tables like a blowfly. Now, you’re fresh out, so why don’t you do as I asked and fuck off before you kill everyone’s buzz.”
I see my moment to step in as the hero she clearly doesn’t need me to be. Grabbing Levi by the lapel of his jacket, I drag him toward the steps, not entirely sure where I’m going but figuring the exit is somewhere on the main terrace. He probably climbed a hedge or a fence to get in, but I’m not going to try and shove him back over.
The strange thing is, he doesn’t fight me as I haul him away: he shuffles after me like a schoolkid on his way to the principal’s office. His eyes are dazed, his face sweaty, his breath huffing and puffing from his lips, and I can’t decide if he’s biding his time to lash out at me or if he really is resigned to being kicked out. Either way, I keep my wits about me.
“She’ll wreck your life,” Levi says suddenly, as we reach the main terrace, drawing the shocked attention of other guests. “She’ll swear up and down that she had nothing to do with Ben’s death, but he was my best friend, and I know he didn’t die in any accident. She did something to his motorcycle. Someone covered it up, but I know. I know what she’s capable of.”
“Shut up,” I hiss, but he’s on a roll now.
“She’d kill her own mom if it meant getting what she wanted. Probably already did. Everyone who gets close to her dies,” Levi warns, slurring his words. “If you don’t want to end up six-feet-under, you stay away from that one. If you can’t stay away, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I turn and get in his face, grasping his collar and pulling it tight, his face reddening as I give him my last warning. It’s only fair that I return the favor. “I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but it won’t work. That woman is in enough pain without you bulling in and throwing accusations around. Hell, I don’t know you at all, but I know I trust her more than I’d ever trust a word that comes out of your drunken little mouth. So, scram, while you’ve still got half a scrap of dignity left intact.”
“Scram?” Levi snorts. “What are you, an after-school special?” He puts up his hands. “I’m just trying to be friendly here. Just trying to get some justice, you know? Can’t blame a guy for that.”
Before I can say what I really think about him, with words I hope Grace isn’t nearby to hear, two men in dark suits emerge from the crowd and come toward us. They seize Levi by the arms, taking the responsibility off me.
“We’ll see to this, sir,” one says, giving me an official nod before he and his colleague start marching Levi away. They’re discreet, not drawing anyone’s eye the way I was.
I’m guessing they’re party security, and as I search the crowd, I see Cybil DuCate standing by the buffet table. She tilts her head at me, as if to release me from my duty as haphazard bouncer, before she turns her gaze over the balcony beside the shrimp and oysters. I don’t need to see what she’s looking at; I can tell by the crinkle of her brow and the purse of her lips and the worried expression they form. She’s watching Summer… but how long for? Is she going to kick me out next, for getting too close to her daughter-in-law? Though Lyndsey and Summer have both vouched for her, Cybil isn’t the kind of woman I want to get on the wrong side of.
A little lost at sea, I begin to make my way back down the endless curving steps to the bottom terrace, but as I look toward the spot where I could’ve sworn I left Summer, she’s not there. Her glass is on the stone bench, but she’s gone.
I feel a light tap on my shoulder, and whirl around to see Ms. T standing behind me.
“She left, hon,” the larger-than-life woman tells me, with a note of apology in her voice. “I love the girl to pieces, but she’s picked up some bad habits in her life. Runnin’ off when things get tough is one of ‘em. Lucky for you, I know how to get one step ahead of her.”
I frown. “I don’t want to overstep, Ms. T. If she’s gone home, I’m guessing she wants to be alone.”
