Perfect Summer | Yzacole

Perfect Summer: Two

We both moved at the same time—she closed the door to her Jeep and, after darting a downright insulting look at my Mini, she started walking toward my front door. Realizing I’d left it open, I rushed toward it, nervous and maybe even a bit scared. It was stupid of me not to lock it, especially in a new town where I didn’t know anybody. This person could be an axe murderer!

I didn’t have time to beat myself up further because I was already face to face with the tall stranger. My jaw nearly dropped. Seen clearly, she looked more like a supermodel than a villain, although there was something dangerous about her, something other than her size and frame outlined in jeans and a simple black T-shirt. She was considerably taller than me, and I had to tilt my head back to look at her properly.

“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to sound formal and cool.

She looked me up and down, her eyebrows drawn in a frown of… disapproval? She might be gorgeous, but she had the manners of a hillbilly.

“I doubt it. Are you Ms. Marnie’s niece?” Her voice was deep and completely unfriendly.

“Yes, I am. And you are…?”

“Cole Somera. I live next door.”

I was so surprised when she reached out to shake my hand I took her before I knew it. It was large and warm, with a soft palm and short, clean fingernails.

“Yzabel Divinagracia. Nice to meet you, Ms. Somera.”

"Yeah."

“How did you know who I was? Did my great aunt mention me?”

“She talked about you a lot. Said you lived in San Francisco. Funny you never visited until now, when it makes no difference to her.”

I gaped at her, scandalized. Did she think I was some fortune hunter? What right did she even have to judge me?

“I’m sorry, Ms. Somera, but my aunt never asked me to visit. She wasn’t in touch with us much, only talked on the phone with my grandmother once a month. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“She never asked because she didn’t want to be a bother. You should have visited just because she was your great aunt and a lonely old lady who had no family.”

My nostrils flared, especially because her rude, aggressive attitude struck a nerve. Guilt, maybe?

“It wasn’t my fault she had no family, that was my aunt’s choice. I thought she valued her privacy, and that’s why she never invited us to visit. And I’m forced to repeat myself: how is this any of your business? Are you a relative I don’t know about?”

“I was her friend, that's all.”

“Her friend?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Seems an unlikely friendship, given your age difference.”

She looked up at the house, her eyes searching as though she expected to see her at the window one last time. “Not that unlikely. I respected her a lot. I could sit all day listening to her stories. She was a remarkable woman. I was the one who took care of her funeral. She made all the arrangements a couple of years ago and asked me to take care of things for her when the time came.”

Now it made sense. She was probably pissed off because my aunt hadn’t left her house to her, instead of her estranged great niece. Who was the fortune hunter here?

“Thanks for that,” I said coldly. “Like I mentioned, my aunt never made an attempt to get close to me. If she had, I would have been happy to visit more often.”