Summer of Irreverence: The Rock Star (The New York Artists Series) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Praise for Cathrine Goldstein

  Summer of Irreverence:

  Copyright

  Dedications

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  A word from the author…

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  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  “How did you go through life

  with that name…?” Malcolm’s eyes flashed with happiness. “I mean, if I wrote it people would crucify me. What were your parents thinking?”

  Summer froze.

  “I mean, do they love you at all?” Malcolm chuckled.

  Summer’s feet refused to move, and her arms lay limp at her side.

  “Summer?” Malcolm’s smile faded. “Sum?”

  The sound of her nickname spoken by Malcolm did her in. She desperately fought the mounting tears.

  Malcolm stared at her. “It’s not your name you’re upset about, is it?”

  Summer clenched her jaw and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and modulated.

  She nodded, looking at Malcolm, and wanting, for the first time ever, to have someone make it all okay. To have him make it all okay.

  Malcolm grew quiet. They stood there for whole minutes. “I’m sorry if I touched on a sore subject. Really.”

  Summer stared at him—this man who had everything except the answer she needed. How could he be so closed off? How could he care so little about the pain of another living creature?

  He stepped forward then, as if reading her mind, took her hand gently, and leaned over, speaking quietly into her ear. “It’s not that I don’t care.” Those few words found a place deep in Summer’s soul.

  Malcolm stood tall, and Summer’s eyes followed him. He reached out and stroked her cheek. “But I’ve got nothing more to give than today.”

  Praise for Cathrine Goldstein

  “The Hunger Games meets Divergent! This pair of books was so engaging…I couldn’t put them down…”

  ~Kovescene of the Mind

  ~*~

  “I highly recommend this book—it’s freaking amazing.”

  ~Perks of Being a Book Girl

  ~*~

  “I’m completely blown away by how original this story truly is…I beg you give these a go…”

  ~Mama Reads Hazel Sleeps

  ~*~

  “The Letting series is amazing…all elements that you look for when you read. Adventure, love, mystery, action… really everything.”

  ~The Cubicle Escapee

  ~*~

  “Woo. What a ride. I almost think The Letting is going to be the next big hit series.”

  ~Book Lover’s Report

  ~*~

  “A gripping new novel that will enchant readers from the very first page…very well written book with a fascinating and original plot.”

  ~A Dream Within A Dream

  Summer of Irreverence:

  The Rock Star

  by

  Cathrine Goldstein

  The New York Artists Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Summer of Irreverence: The Rock Star

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Cathrine Goldstein

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2016

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0867-8

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0868-5

  The New York Artists Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedications

  As always, for Jay, Penelope, and Pickle (Sarah).

  Thank you.

  ~*~

  And a huge “thank you” to my wonderful editor,

  Fran Sevilla!!!!!

  Chapter One

  “That’s it. I want to lose my virginity…” Summer threw herself against the breakfast bar where Jeanette was picking at a meal of cottage cheese and strawberries.

  Jeanette nearly choked as she laid down her fork and stared at her friend. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” Summer twirled a long blonde lock absentmindedly, as her mind wandered to thoughts of…someone else… She sighed deeply; her tiny body felt unusually heavy and lethargic, like she needed another eight hours of sleep, but at the same time, her thoughts were running wild. She had been in the city for a few days now, and it was high time to get on with her plan.

  “Okay,” Jeanette drew in a deep breath and gave her full attention to Summer. “Um, Summer, I’m not sure how to tell you this, but just ’cause a relationship ends, it doesn’t mean you’re back to being a virgin. Virginity is not self-renewing like…like a frog’s legs.” She giggled.

  Summer rolled her eyes. “You’re in a good mood this morning.” She plopped down on a stool across from Jeanette. “And that’s a myth by the way.”

  “What is?”

  “That frogs can regenerate, or uh, regrow a limb.”

  “Really?” Jeanette eyed her friend skeptically.

  “Yup.” Summer picked up an orange from the fruit bowl and tossed it from hand to hand. She closed her eyes and mentally dissected her plan once more. Was it feasible? Or was she absolutely crazy?

  “But what about Rocko?”

  Summer opened her eyes and shook her head. “Rocko your frog? From when we were kids?”

  Jeanette nodded. She took a bite of her fat-free, lactose-free cottage cheese, and grimaced.

  Summer reached across the bar and took Jeanette’s hand, hesitating for a moment. Although they were grown-ups now, she still felt remarkably like a nasty troll telling a six year old there is no Santa Claus.

  “Um, Jeanette…” Summer approached this carefully. “It’s time you knew. Rocko…he didn’t actually live as long as you thought. After the…accident…your dad replaced him. And then again, many times after that.”

  “Many times?”

  Jeanette’s face fell. Darn it. The last thing Summer wanted was to make her friend unhappy—even if it all happened ages ago, and even though the situation was just a teensy bit comical. Summer squeezed Jeanette’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, Jean. Your dad didn’t want you to know.
He didn’t want you to be upset.”

  “But I was sure Rocko was the one. You know how many times I kissed that damned frog…correction, those damned frogs, trying to get my prince?”

  Summer giggled, raising her eyebrows. “Well, you’ve got him now.”

  “That’s true. Elijah is pretty awesome.”

  “Yes, I would say he was worth all the kisses you laid on those poor frogs.” Summer tucked her hair behind her ear and chewed her lip. She took a deep breath. This was as good a time as any. “And uh, Jean, speaking of Elijah—”

  Jeanette shook her head. “Wait a sec. We can talk about him later. You can’t make an announcement like that and leave me hanging. What’s this, ‘I want to lose my virginity’ crap all about?”

  Summer’s cheeks warmed as panic began rising in her. She swallowed it back. Think, think, think. “Green Anole Lizards.”

  “Excuse me? Your sudden proclamation about losing your virginity, which I know happened in high school by the way, has to do with a lizard?”

  Summer shook her head. “Ew. No. No. The Green Anole Lizard can regenerate its tail. It’s not the same as the original tail that consisted of bones, this new tail is primarily cartilage and—”

  “Summer.” Jeanette put up her hand. “I want to talk about your love life, not…lizards. If this is your idea of conversation, I’m beginning to get a glimpse into your life with the great Dr. Brad Parker.”

  “Ugh…don’t remind me.” Summer looked off, out the window.

  Outside, the first rays of dawn came peeking through the blinds, brightening the drab yellow apartment, and lifting Summer’s spirits. It was amazing, the power the sun could have. Even here, trapped in a concrete world she really didn’t know, the sun offered Summer some welcomed normalcy.

  Summer pulled herself up from the breakfast bar and walked to the widow. She pushed up the window leading to the fire escape, and immediately, the hot, sticky Manhattan morning found its way in, like a hungry alley cat. Darn, it was warm. It seemed even the nicest of apartments weren’t immune to a hot Manhattan morning. Summer pulled off her robe, tossing it onto the couch. Even from across the room she could feel Jeanette’s disapproving gaze.

  “Even in summer, huh?” Jeanette tossed her head toward Summer’s pajamas.

  Summer chewed her lip.

  “All right. Come on, Sum.”

  Jeanette patted the stool next to her, and Summer made her way over.

  “Is this about the great, Doctor Brad?”

  Summer shook her head vehemently. Then she paused. “Not directly.”

  “Then tell me. Because last I checked, you were the one who ended your long-term relationship with Brad, the hot vet-slash-professor who wanted to marry you. Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No.” Although Summer couldn’t put a finger on her melancholy, of this, she was certain. She did not miss Brad—in the least.

  “Well, then what?” Jeanette twirled a strawberry from its stem. It popped free of her hand and rolled along the counter, leaving red streaks down the white quartz.

  Summer snatched the strawberry and grabbed a dishtowel to wipe away the red stain. “We’ve got to grab that stain before it sets.”

  Jeanette shrugged. “Leave it. Elijah will buy me a new counter. Actually, he’ll buy me a new kitchen.” Jeanette smiled coyly.

  Summer folded the dishtowel and cocked her head. “You really like him, huh?”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “Jean, this is me. I’ve known you since second grade. I’ve been with you through every relationship you’ve had. Every teacher you’ve dated…every dad I talked you away from when we babysat…”

  “Yeah, you were always the sensible one. Who would have thought you’d end up dating your professor.”

  Summer buried her head in her hands. “Ugh, don’t remind me. And you would have dated professors too if you went to college.”

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Jeanette clapped her hands together as if she was silencing a barking dog. “No way. I’m not getting into this now. I am very happy with my chosen career.”

  “I know, it’s just you have a mind for business and—”

  Jeanette held up her hand. “Tell you what. You spare me the model talk, and I’ll spare you the pajama talk. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Summer smiled.

  “So, why this sudden proclamation? And what the hell does it mean?” Jeanette held out her bowl of strawberries, but Summer shook her head.

  “No, thanks. That’s your food for the day, I wouldn’t dare.”

  Jeanette rolled her eyes. “Sum, fess up. What’s the deal?”

  “I just…” Summer chose her words carefully. “I just, I’ve never had my world…rocked…you know?”

  Jeanette stared. “Brad wasn’t good?”

  Summer’s cheeks began to heat. “It’s not that he wasn’t good. It’s that he just kind of…was.”

  “He sure is handsome, I’ll give you that.”

  “Yeah…” Summer looked off.

  “And tall.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And an older man. What is he, like thirty-five?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “Well, what?” Jeanette abandoned her breakfast and looked closely at Summer. “You can’t lead me this far and then leave me. What a tease, Sum.”

  Summer shot Jeanette an incredulous look and sighed. She settled in, resting her hands on the counter. She hated the idea of discussing details of her personal life, even with her best friend. But she needed help from Jeanette, and to get the kind of help she needed, she would have to let Jeanette in. Her knee began to bounce nervously. “All right.”

  Jeanette gulped her black coffee. “Really? Really?” Jeanette wiped her hands in that same dishtowel. “You never spill. Ever. Okay, let me have it.”

  “Brad was…sort of…weak.”

  “In bed?” Jeanette spun Summer’s stool around to face her.

  “No…” Summer shook her head. “Well, yes, I suppose. Well, everywhere, I guess. I mean, he was always so hung up on being my professor and proving to me I was smart, but in the most patronizing way. He would yell in surgery, but after…he was just…blah. And through it all, he kind of forgot to be a man.”

  “No…” Jeanette’s eyes grew wider with every word Summer spoke.

  “What I mean is he was always respectful. But sometimes he was a bit too respectful. You know?”

  Jeanette nodded along, nearly salivating.

  “He was so concerned I was his equal, everywhere but in the operating room, he forgot that women sometimes want to be…you know…” Summer tipped her head hoping Jeanette would fill in the rest—silently.

  “Had?”

  Summer nodded, her cheeks on fire. “Yes. I…I know I’m smart. And I know eventually I’ll make a fairly good living as a veterinary surgeon…as soon as I pay off these student loans. But I’d still like it if he showed a little…manliness around me. Pick up the check at dinner instead of splitting it; insist on driving the darn car once in awhile; stop asking my permission on every move…quit asking me how I’m feeling about everything…” Summer’s chest heaved as the words fell from her mouth. “And for heaven’s sake, initiate once in awhile, you know?”

  Jeanette crammed cottage cheese into her mouth, riveted.

  Summer jumped to her feet and stomped away. “And when we do, do it…then make a little effort. Not always the same position, for the same amount of time.” She whipped around to face Jeanette. “Do you know in the year and a half we were together we never…did it…anywhere but his bed? Never. And I’m not talking about outside the bedroom, I mean never on the floor, never against a wall, never from behind…”

  “Always missionary?” Jeanette asked timidly.

  “I wish.” Summer ran her hand through her hair. “Then he would be a man.”

  “Then how?”

  “How else would the great, caring Doctor
Brad do it? Side by side. Always. So we’re equals. That’s got to be the most unfulfilling position ever for a woman.” Summer threw up her hands in exasperation.

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “No?” Summer’s eyes landed on Jeanette.

  “No.”

  “Oh goodness.” Summer collapsed back into her seat. “Guess I’ve had that bottled up for a bit. Sorry.”

  “It’s…okay.” Jeanette stared, flabbergasted.

  Summer dropped her chin, and spoke to the floor. “He’s the exact opposite of what I need. I need someone who respects my work, but still treats me like I’m a woman. You know?”

  “If you don’t think he respects your work, then why the job offer?”

  “It’s a game.” Summer sighed. “He’s on a power trip. And he’s the best around, so if I want to make a name for myself, quickly, I’m going to have to take it.”

  Jeanette nodded. “Will you be able to work together amicably?”

  Summer shrugged. “We’ll have to. I just finished my residency with him, and we were okay. Unless…” She stared off.

  “Unless, what? Sum?”

  “He’s kind of a bully in the operating room. He makes me second guess my decisions. Even when I’m completely right. I think he really overcompensates for being such a wimp in real life.”

  “I’ve just got to say…I’m a little surprised. I thought Brad was the greatest guy ever, he seems so…”

  “I know,” Summer nodded, throwing her hands into the air. “Looks can be deceiving, I guess.”

  “But just a few days ago you were singing his praises—when you were at the clinic…”

  “That’s true.” Summer looked up. “He is an excellent surgeon. But I’m afraid that’s just not enough to build a life on, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Jeanette nodded.

  “I respect his work, but that’s it—not his work ethic and not him.”

  “You don’t think you could ever love him?” Jeanette asked these words carefully, through her lashes. She avoided direct eye contact.

  “Jeanette.” Summer focused on Jeanette’s eyes. Her shoulders slumped, and her voice modulated to its normal tone. She smiled sweetly. Jeanette was a good friend. The best. But she just never seemed to understand the truth about love. “You know I don’t believe in love. I’m sorry, but love just doesn’t exist. Scientifically, it makes no sense. You know what the purpose of the human heart is? To beat. That’s why people who believe in it, find love hurts so much—because they center their feelings on our most violent organ. Look, I’m sorry to be such a downer to you and all the romantics out there, but I’m a doctor. A scientist. Truth be told, I know what the heart does, and it has nothing to do with a serotonin release that makes one feel temporarily euphoric.”