The Summer Villa. Melissa Hill

Manhattan? How on earth will you afford that?’ Gloria gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I think you seriously overestimate those skills and talents if you expect to just randomly waltz into a job that pays the same kind of salary your father does.’

      The realisation stopped Kim in her tracks. Her mother was right. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. She couldn’t make it on her own. She didn’t even know where to start. She was just a puppet and her folks held the strings; they always had.

      Check. Mate.

      As always, Kim was outplayed.

      ‘When did you want me to leave for England?’ she asked, defeated.

      ‘Two weeks, when your father and I head to the Hamptons. I told you she’d make the right decision in the end,’ her mother commented snidely as she turned to her father. ‘Our daughter will always choose the easy life.’

      Peter didn’t answer. Instead, he got to his feet.

      ‘I need a coffee,’ he commented absently as he left the room. That was it. Kim’s dad had basically just whored out his only daughter, and all he could say was he needed coffee.

      Tears filled her eyes as she stood up and headed for the door.

      ‘I’ll let the Andrews know to expect you,’ her mother said to her back as Kim left. ‘You’ve made a very wise choice this time, Kimberley. Very wise indeed.’

Chapter 3

      That night, as Kim and her friend Natasha made their way from club to club in Manhattan, she drank herself into oblivion, trying to put the disgusting sordidness of her parents’ request – no, demand – out of her mind.

      Part of her hoped that she’d just wander out on the street and have a cab driver end her misery for her. She was too cowardly to do it herself.

      Had she really acquiesced to this? Agreed to barter herself for her family in order to secure a future for herself?

      ‘Hey, slow down – we’re not eighteen anymore,’ Natasha encouraged, but Kim was hearing none of it.

      ‘I’m fine,’ she slurred as she pushed her way again towards the bar.

      ‘I think you’ve had enough, actually,’ her friend interjected as she attempted to get in her way. But Kim could be persistent and with the level of alcohol that now coursed through her veins, she felt unstoppable.

      ‘Bartender!’ she yelled as she slapped the top of the electric green counter.

      ‘Seriously,’ Natasha insisted, grabbing her wrist, ‘you’ll break your hand the way you’re hitting that.’

      ‘So what,’ Kim snapped as she yanked it away. ‘What difference does it make? The Andrews will just get a slightly bruised whore for a daughter-in-law.’

      Daughter-in-law … The word disgusted her and the notion of charming some guy into marriage made her want to throw up.

      ‘Hey! Vodka,’ she shouted as she raised her glass above her head and waved frantically at the bartender. The guy, who knew Kim well, hustled over and grabbed the empty glass from her hand.

      ‘Another one, princess?’ He smirked. Normally Kim wouldn’t have entertained his flirtations but today was different. ‘You sure?’

      ‘Hey, if you’re pouring then I’m drinking,’ she teased, leaning across the bar, practically falling over it, and kissing him.

      ‘OK, enough,’ Natasha stated as she grabbed Kim by the hem of her skirt and heaved her backwards. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

      ‘My thing,’ Kim spat. ‘What I do best. Make guys like me,’ she drawled drunkenly.

      Kim could see the look of disgust and annoyance in her friend’s face but it was nothing compared to the feeling in her heart. Natasha would never know how she felt. She’d never know the betrayal, the hurt, and despair that Kim felt right then. Her life was over when it had never really begun. How could anyone call what she did living when every moment was for someone else, never herself?

      And now she was about to cross a line over which she could never return.

      Once she set foot on that plane and traversed the ocean, any hope of a normal life would be over. From what she remembered of them, the Andrews were stuffy and pretentious, and Spencer was the most anal guy she’d ever met. Seduce him? That bit would be easy. But marry him? That was a whole other prospect.

      She grabbed the vodka bottle from the bartender, and downed the remaining contents in one go. Clear liquid burned every inch of its way down as she hissed her approval.

      ‘That’s what I’m talkin’ about.’

      ‘For crying out loud,’ Natasha sighed.

      ‘What?’ she snapped involuntarily.

      Her friend cocked her head at her accusingly. Kim knew what that meant. She took a deep breath and sighed. She was acting out, behaving like a bratty teen. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off.

      ‘Sorry,’ she apologised.

      Natasha shook her head sympathetically. ‘It’s OK. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now. But this…’ she indicated the bottle and Kim’s ragged appearance, ‘this isn’t you.’

      Her friend was right. This wasn’t her. She tried to refocus, get herself back in the game, but all she could think of was the upcoming trip to England and the horrific scenario it presented.

      Natasha slapped her hand across the bar. ‘So what’re you going to do about it?’

      Kim’s head snapped up, her wide green eyes piercing her friend’s dark gaze. ‘What can I do? It’s all decided and I agreed. Case closed.’ Feeling dizzy now from the effects of the vodka, she stumbled against the bar a little. ‘I’m outta here.’

      She stumbled erratically through the crowds, her short skirt and skimpy top gaining the attention of most of the guys she passed, but she didn’t pay attention. Her eyes were solely focused on the exit. She could hear Natasha following her but she didn’t look back.

      The moment they stepped outside, her friend grabbed Kim’s arm and turned her around. ‘Oh, come on, quit the “poor me” act. The Kim Weston I know doesn’t just give in. So what – now you’ve decided to just turn into a wet mop and do what they want?’

      ‘What does it matter?’ Kim spat. ‘Everything stays the same. They always get what they want. So why bother fighting?’

      ‘You’re always saying that one day you’ll finally stop letting them win and take a hold of your own life. This could be the day.’

      ‘Easy for you to say. Your folks are great. They don’t pressure you. They let you find your own way and just be there for you if you need them. They love you. My parents only bother with me when they need to whore me out.’

      ‘Seriously?’ Natasha rolled her eyes. ‘Kim, you’re nearly thirty years old. No one is stopping you from having the life you want. You’re just scared to actually go out and get it. You find excuse after excuse for why you can’t walk away from your parents, and this “woe is me” attitude, but the truth is you’re afraid to let go of the trappings that Mommy and Daddy’s cash can buy.’

      The words were a fist to the gut. ‘So what if I am? You mean to tell me you wouldn’t be scared if having what you want meant giving up everything you already have, your entire way of life?’

      ‘Of course,’ Natasha answered. ‘I’d be terrified. We can’t pretend that we haven’t had an easy time. We’ve always had everything we’ve ever wanted. The best that money can buy. People kill for the types of lives we were born into.’

      Her