Chapter 40
Still reeling from our wedding a month ago at the Summer ranch, Reese and I are now sitting at a table in the center of a ballroom at the Ritz Carlton Battery Park as part of a launch party for our book we’re told is already set for the New York Times just with pre-orders. I’d worn a pink dress to get married in and Reese a tuxedo. And today, I’m wearing my pink suit for the signing and he has on his lucky blue suit. Or it will be lucky after today. Everyone we know, and many we don’t know, are here with the exception of my baby brother Daniel who had to go back to work after the wedding. Even my father, Gabe, and Reid, are here, who of course, are thrilled I married an attorney. Reid is still one big cranky ass but he’s slowly easing up. Reese has saved two of Reid’s clients from certain hell in jail, and since they were innocent, Reese and I, were both just fine with him helping.
I sign a book for a man who raves about my column and Reese’s skill in the courtroom. He watched “every moment of the trial on TV.” I smile and sign his book “Cat Summer” which is pretty darn surreal. The next person in line is quick to attack Dan. “He was horrid in court,” the sixty-something woman says. “Horrid. Don’t you think so, Mr. Summer?”
“He put Kelli Ward in prison for life,” Reese says. “I forgive him for being a jerk for that reason.”
“I hope Nelson Ward has found peace.”
“He has,” Reese says. “And with this book, we hope his story gets heard.”
I hand a signed book to her, and she leaves us with a break from the long line we’d managed the past hour. I reach for my bottle of water, when Reese nudges me. “Look,” he says, motioning to his mother, who looks stunning in a knee length emerald dress. “She’s flirting with a guy twenty years younger than her.”
“And he’s flirting back. I love it.”
“I do not love it,” Reese says. “I’m supposed to go help her install a new television tomorrow. I don’t want to show up to her apartment and find a guy my own age, or any age, running around naked.”
I laugh. “I doubt he will be running around. I still can’t get used to her apartment being my old apartment but I love it. My mom wanted to start fresh there, I did start fresh there, and now she’s teaching here, and starting fresh in that same apartment.”
“And flirting with young kids.”
“He’s not a kid,” I laugh again.
“Holy fuck,” he says.
“What now?”
I follow his lead and find his sister, who is an absolute brunette goddess, in conversation with Gabe who has actually become friends with Reese. Flirty conversation. “Oh my,” I say. “They are cuddly.”
“I have to stop this.” He tries to stand.
“You will not. Let them have fun.”
He looks over at me. “Isn’t that like saying one and done? It never works.”
“Right. Someone either gets hurt or gets married. She lives here now, too. Maybe we should go break them up.” We both stand and start walking in that direction, Mr. and Mrs. Summer to rescue one dirty rich one night stand at a time.
In closing: Contrary to popular talking heads in the media Santa did not steal Christmas, or any other holiday. I did. At least where Christmas is concerned since that is what I celebrate. Christmas is right here in my house, with a tree decorated in silver, in case you wondered. I hope whatever it is that you celebrate is alive and well in your house, too, because this time of year is about family, friendship, and a whole lot of eating. We need more family and friends in this world. We need more pumpkin pie, actually, but that’s for another day. For those of you who have written in asking how becoming Cat Summer changes me or this column, I hope you have had a few months to see that it changes nothing. For the record, if Reese Summer missteps in a trial I will not only tell him, I will tell you. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and until then, —Cat