sure you'll love."
Summer groaned, as if it was the worst idea she'd ever heard.
"C'mon, Mom, y'know we don't have the same taste."
"I'm hardly an old fuddy-duddy,"
Nikki replied, resenting Summer's comment.
"In fact, I am one of the most successful clothes designers in movies."
I'm also younger than Madonna, she thought. So don't treat me like some decrepit old fart.
"Yeah, Mom. Thing is - you like so don't get me."
Great! She didn't get her own daughter.
"I'm starving,"
Summer said, racing into the kitchen.
"Is there anything to eat?"
There was plenty to eat, but Summer had this infuriating habit of flinging open the fridge and saying,
"Yuck! Nothing edible!"
She " it now. Then she threw open every cupboard in the kitchen, Ailing to close them.
Nikki tried to stay calm, her daughter's messy habits drove her totally insane.
Bummer!"
Summer exclaimed.
"Richard's not home and there's no food."
Tell me what you'd like, and I'll send the maid to the market."
53 "Forget it, Mom. I'm gonna hit the beach. I plan on getting a way cool tan."
So much for mother-daughter bonding, Nikki thought ruefully.
-ft ft ft
The moment the messenger delivered the script, Nikki grabbed it and hurried onto the deck overlooking the beach. Summer was lying down below on the sand, topless. Since she was almost flatchested it didn't really matter, except that it was inappropriate especially as this was a public beach where you were not supposed to do that kind of thing.
She contemplated calling down and telling her to put on a top, but what was the good? Summer would do so for two minutes, and as soon as Nikki turned around she'd take it off again.
Clutching the script under her arm, she curled up in a comfortable wicker chair and began reading.
For an hour and a half she was completely absorbed. It was a brilliant final draft - the writer she'd hired had done an excellent job incorporating all her notes. Placing the script on a table, she shivered with excitement. Lara had to see it immediately.
It crossed her mind she could deliver it personally. Then she remembered that Summer was staying, and it wouldn't be fair to leave her alone with Richard. Maybe she'd Fed Ex Lara the script, give her a chance to read it, and then get on a plane. Yes, she decided, that was the way to handle it.
She called Richard in the editing rooms.
"The script's here,"
she said.
"I just finished reading, it's exactly on target."
"Don't get too excited,"
he warned.
"The money people have to take a look, and they alwayshzve comments."
"Who cares?"
she said recklessly.
"I think it's good enough to send to the directors I have in mind, get their reactions."
"Well . . . they're all waiting to see it,"
he mused.
"Only remember I'm tied up for the next few weeks, I won't be much help."
"I can handle it,"
she said confidently.
"This is my project, and although I appreciate your input, I'm OK on my own."
54
"You're sure you want to do this?"
"Absolutely."
She was about to call Federal Express and package the script off to Lara when she remembered Summer, who'd definitely been out on the beach too long. She went over to the edge of the deck and peered down. Summer was sprawled on the sand - still topless. A muscled boy was crouched down next to her, talking nonstop. Hww, Nikki thought, it hasn't taken her long to find some local action.
She realized she shouldn't be so critical, but she didn't want the same fate happening to her daughter that had befallen her. Pregnant at sixteen, married at seventeen, divorced at twenty-five. A little voice murmured in her head, It's not your problem, it's Sheldon's. He's in charge.
She called out Summer's name.
Her nearly naked daughter swung her head around, looking up at her as if she was a total stranger.
"Yeah?"
"Shouldn't you come in now? You don't want to get too much sun on your
Summer groaned, as if it was the worst idea she'd ever heard.
"C'mon, Mom, y'know we don't have the same taste."
"I'm hardly an old fuddy-duddy,"
Nikki replied, resenting Summer's comment.
"In fact, I am one of the most successful clothes designers in movies."
I'm also younger than Madonna, she thought. So don't treat me like some decrepit old fart.
"Yeah, Mom. Thing is - you like so don't get me."
Great! She didn't get her own daughter.
"I'm starving,"
Summer said, racing into the kitchen.
"Is there anything to eat?"
There was plenty to eat, but Summer had this infuriating habit of flinging open the fridge and saying,
"Yuck! Nothing edible!"
She " it now. Then she threw open every cupboard in the kitchen, Ailing to close them.
Nikki tried to stay calm, her daughter's messy habits drove her totally insane.
Bummer!"
Summer exclaimed.
"Richard's not home and there's no food."
Tell me what you'd like, and I'll send the maid to the market."
53 "Forget it, Mom. I'm gonna hit the beach. I plan on getting a way cool tan."
So much for mother-daughter bonding, Nikki thought ruefully.
-ft ft ft
The moment the messenger delivered the script, Nikki grabbed it and hurried onto the deck overlooking the beach. Summer was lying down below on the sand, topless. Since she was almost flatchested it didn't really matter, except that it was inappropriate especially as this was a public beach where you were not supposed to do that kind of thing.
She contemplated calling down and telling her to put on a top, but what was the good? Summer would do so for two minutes, and as soon as Nikki turned around she'd take it off again.
Clutching the script under her arm, she curled up in a comfortable wicker chair and began reading.
For an hour and a half she was completely absorbed. It was a brilliant final draft - the writer she'd hired had done an excellent job incorporating all her notes. Placing the script on a table, she shivered with excitement. Lara had to see it immediately.
It crossed her mind she could deliver it personally. Then she remembered that Summer was staying, and it wouldn't be fair to leave her alone with Richard. Maybe she'd Fed Ex Lara the script, give her a chance to read it, and then get on a plane. Yes, she decided, that was the way to handle it.
She called Richard in the editing rooms.
"The script's here,"
she said.
"I just finished reading, it's exactly on target."
"Don't get too excited,"
he warned.
"The money people have to take a look, and they alwayshzve comments."
"Who cares?"
she said recklessly.
"I think it's good enough to send to the directors I have in mind, get their reactions."
"Well . . . they're all waiting to see it,"
he mused.
"Only remember I'm tied up for the next few weeks, I won't be much help."
"I can handle it,"
she said confidently.
"This is my project, and although I appreciate your input, I'm OK on my own."
54
"You're sure you want to do this?"
"Absolutely."
She was about to call Federal Express and package the script off to Lara when she remembered Summer, who'd definitely been out on the beach too long. She went over to the edge of the deck and peered down. Summer was sprawled on the sand - still topless. A muscled boy was crouched down next to her, talking nonstop. Hww, Nikki thought, it hasn't taken her long to find some local action.
She realized she shouldn't be so critical, but she didn't want the same fate happening to her daughter that had befallen her. Pregnant at sixteen, married at seventeen, divorced at twenty-five. A little voice murmured in her head, It's not your problem, it's Sheldon's. He's in charge.
She called out Summer's name.
Her nearly naked daughter swung her head around, looking up at her as if she was a total stranger.
"Yeah?"
"Shouldn't you come in now? You don't want to get too much sun on your
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