Sketch Artist by Summer Wynter

Author:Summer Wynter [Wynter, Summer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

Roxie

I am laughing as I step out of the room, my gaze turned back at my new-found lover. I feel like an entirely different woman, and I can’t help but smile as I look at him – the tension of two months finally concluded in some of the most incredible sex I’ve ever had, not that I have much, if anything, to go by. But, I know when something is good, and it was good.

Suddenly, I hear a voice call my name.

‘Roxie?’ the voice says, familiar and tinged with horror.

I turn, and my face falls, all my previous joy dissipating in an instant. My father is stood in the hallway; he must have been preparing in one of the hotel suites, and, it being close to the speeches, was making his way downstairs. I curse my timing. I dare not turn to look at Adam, so close behind me, his hand still in mine. He snatches it away, but it is too late.

‘Dad …’ I trail off, not knowing what to say. What is there to say when your father catches you coming out of an hotel room with a man?

‘Adam?!’ my father shouts, his face growing pale. ‘Adam, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ he is really angry now, his fists shaking with rage.

I turn to Adam, confused. ‘Adam, what’s going on?’ I ask, but his face is equally confused, as he looks from my father to me, and back again, his own face draining of colour.

‘That’s my little girl! How could you?’ my father yells, coming towards Adam, but I stand between them, my hands grasping my father’s shoulders, stopping him.

‘I didn’t know,’ Adam whispers, a look of horror on his face. ‘I didn’t know,’ he repeats, over and over, as if saying it might make it go away.

I gulp. ‘Dad, you need to calm down,’ I say, but he is breathing rapidly, his cheeks scarlet against the white face.

‘You slept with my little girl – you knew her when she was a kid, for god’s sake!’ he shouts at Adam, who is flat against the door of the hotel room, not knowing what to say.

‘I didn’t know,’ is all he can say.

I can’t quite put the face to the name, but know my father had a best friend called Adam – I realise now who the man is, but it is too late to change things. I have fallen for him, and he for me, I hope. It’s up to me to fix this mess, I realise, standing between them, my father clearly wanting to tear the balls from his best friend.

‘He is too old for you, Roxie – this is obscene,’ my father says, more quietly, though spoken through gritted teeth, as I continue to hold him back from doing something he will regret.

‘I care about him, Dad,’ I say, firmly. ‘He is kind and he cares for me too, I think,’ I add, glancing back over my shoulder.

‘I do, Geoff – I care deeply about her.

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