Page 30 of Our Secret Summer

“Let’s try FaceTime. I miss you. LA isn’t the same without you,” Connor said. “Aren’t you lonely all by yourself by that big lake?”

Oh, boy.“I’m good. I’ve been working a lot, actually.”

“Can’t wait to see the results,” Connor said.

“Thanks, Con. For everything. You’re awesome.”

“Do you have any idea when you might be coming back? Or if a quick return trip is an option? I might need your signature soon.”

“Let’s talk tomorrow.” It was dreadful to have Connor call her with such amazing news and then having to lie to him.

“Sure. Check your email in one minute, okay? Love you, babe.”

They rang off, and Raffo took a beat before turning around to face Dylan. The previous time Connor had called, Raffo hadn’t yet been sleeping with his mother. She just had to hide that Dylan was in Big Bear. What she had to conceal now was a million times more excruciating. But Raffo didn’t have time to consider her secret affair, because she’d just gotten the offer of a lifetime.

She explained to Dylan what Connor had just told her.

“Half a million?” Dylan whistled through her teeth. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Plus a percentage of sales,” Raffo repeated. Connor was right. If this deal went through, she would be a rich lesbian painter.

“Are you okay?” Dylan asked. “You look a little… taken aback.”

“I’m both stunned and elated, but, I—I hate that I wasn’t able to fully share my joy with Connor about this. He made this happen for me. He has done so much for me and my career and this is how I repay him? By deceiving him?”

“You’re not deceiving him,” Dylan said.

“It sure feels like it.”

Dylan rose from her chair and crossed to Raffo with that fluid grace she always moved with. “I know you want to celebrate with Connor, but you can celebrate with me instead.” She curled her arms around Raffo’s waist, her touch both comforting and dangerous. “I’m so happy for you. Please, try to enjoy this special moment. You deserve it so much.”

“He wants to FaceTime tomorrow.” Raffo didn’t get how Dylan could be so casual about this.

“We’ll make it work. Don’t worry about it.”

“Iamworried. I’m the one who has to talk to him so I’m the one lying to him. I’m the one pretending you’re not here and… well, all the rest.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Dylan nuzzled Raffo’s neck. She wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Raffo extricated herself from Dylan’s embrace—it no longer felt right.

“This is going to hurt Con. We can choose to ignore that all we want, but that doesn’t make it less true.”

“I’m well aware, but I’ve had to flip a switch in my head. For as long as we’re here enjoying this glorious but all-too-brief time we have together, that’s what I’ve decided to do.” She sent Raffo one of her more seductive smiles. “Weren’t you going to show me a picture of your mom?” She took a step closer, but left a respectable distance. “And while you’re at it, show me that half-a-million-bucks painting as well, please.”

CHAPTER 22

Dylan gazed at a picture of Raffo’s mother on her phone and it was like seeing a femme version of Raffo.

“You look so much like her,” Dylan said.

“Yeah.” Raffo still appeared a little distracted after her phone call with Connor, which was perfectly understandable, but Dylan had meant what she’d said—she had no choice. She had flipped the switch in her head.

The woman in the picture who had Raffo’s dark eyes and her raven-black hair and the same solemn, I’m-not-here-to-kid-around expression was dressed in a golden-yellow embroidered sari with sleeves hemmed in sky-blue silk, the fabric luminous against her skin. She wore an emerald silk scarf, dramatic hot-pink earrings that nearly brushed her shoulders, and a statement necklace studded with gemstones that caught the light in every color of the rainbow.

It was like looking at one of Raffo’s paintings. It shouldn’t work, yet it did—spectacularly. Also as with one of Raffo’s paintings, Dylan couldn’t look away.

“You don’t dress like her,” Dylan said after she managed to tear her gaze from that very illuminating picture.

“Nah. That’s not my style. I don’t wear dresses or skirts.”

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