Cherry Orphan

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

In retrospect, Villa Suerte reflected everything Calley had revealed about Robert Nameth. The rambling three-level building radiated old-world charm in every detail—every nook and cranny. The really expensive homes sprawled lower on the hillsides, closer to the shoreline and larger golf courses, where vistas were valued in millions. Elitist and charming as Villa Suerte was, James couldn't think of it as a real home in the usual sense. Maybe Robert didn't either. His sights would be set on moving down, in order to move up. The used car salesman, cheek to jowl with global financiers and corporate icons. Without realizing it, Uncle Robert had become a super snob—successful yet vain. His English memories would be of a dingy flat in Clapham. A sick brother; spiteful sister-in-law and parents who eventually turned against him.

He'd shown them all.

The irony was: in their graves they could hardly care less.

James suppressed the thoughts and checked himself in the mirror, straightening the collar on his green Farmingham blazer. Being the best outfit he had, it would have to do. People were already arriving. Sounds drifted up to the third floor from below.

When he first caught sight of Calley and Sonia greeting guests he sucked in his breath. He didn't have to be told the white, strapless cocktail dress Calley now wore previously belonged to Colleen, he just knew. With hair wound up and curly bangs framing her face, she blended so well into the chintzy setting he couldn't relate her to the brazen girl who'd taught him how to swear and dare less than a week ago. Calley could be a chameleon. She bubbled and fussed, oozing charm from sultry eyes and a seductive mouth that disarmed even the most self-important visitor. Portly men in monkey suits, some with butt-ugly wives, fell over themselves to congratulate Robert for bringing up such mesmerizing children.

As the evening wore on James stopped trying to remember all the names and faces, concentrating instead on the ones Calley or Sonia deemed important—the faces he'd be meeting again soon.

"Here, drink this." Calley handed him a slim stemmed glass.

"What is it?"

"Never mind, just drink it."

Sonia moved in on them both. "It's champagne cocktail. If you don't like it I'll get you something else." Shoulder strap tan lines emerged from the low neckline, making the sister look sexy enough to eat.

"Spoilsport. I want to see what he's like shitfaced," Calley whined.

Sonia grabbed her arm, suddenly serious. "For Christ's sake, Calley." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Remember what he went through with his mom."

"Oops, yeah, right. I forgot that." She turned to take it back, but James up-ended the drink in one continuous swig.

"Nice! More, please." He handed her the empty glass to show he wasn't kidding.

The girls looked at one another and giggled. Sonia said, "You'd better slow it down, champ. Sip the next one. This stuff sneaks up on you fast." She turned to locate the cruising waitress and immediately noticed the couple closing on their corner. "Speaking of sneaking up, here comes Dad with Prune Face so watch the language, boys and girls."

James had already met Prune Face earlier in the evening. It took all his concentration not to burst out laughing at Sonia's pet name for one of the least attractive women he'd ever clapped eyes on. Her real name happened to be Prunella. She stood tall, rake-thin with bony legs and big feet. The silky clothes, although expensive, clung to her frame more like raw yardage wound on a bolt rather than anything tailored to a female shape. But her face took the cake. Weepy and long, with lips so thin her mouth looked like a razor slash that had refused to heal.