The Summer We Came to Life by Deborah Cloyed Page A

business, had talked my ear off about saving his beloved Panama. Snapped me out of my glitz and glam bubble, I guess is what I’m sayin’.”
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    Cesar returned home to his fuming father. At Harvard, Cesar’s head had been filled with the philosophies and hopes of his professors. He dreamed of modernizing Panama’s economy, and of uplifting the poor. But for the last six months, Alfredo Guerra had been orchestrating his son’s initiation into the family’s affairs. Alfredo had quite a different plan for Cesar. The family’s finances were in shambles. His son’s delusions about helping the poor would have to wait. Family came first.
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    â€œYour father wasn’t naive, exactly, honey. He’d seen enough to know his father was no saint. But he didn’t quite understand the level of corruption or his father’s complicity. Oh, who am I protecting? Your grandfather was a snake. A charming, gorgeous snake. Now, I know I am not lacking in self-confidence myself,” Jesse said, “but Alfredo Guerra had vanity, greed and sadism, with loads to spare.”
    Jesse slapped her thigh. “Damn,” she said, “Getting ahead again. So, we had just—”
    â€œHad wild passionate sex for four days?” Isabel prompted.
    Cornell chuckled. “Yeah, I think we got it, Jesse.”
    Jesse looked at Isabel instead of Cornell. “Oh, honey, I toldyou, it was much more than sex. So much more. It was like the meeting of two blazing comets resulting in the creation of earth—”
    Now Lynette made a gagging noise, but Isabel shot her a look that said not to interrupt. Arshan, for his part, let his eyes linger on Jesse, then looked away.
    â€œI’d never felt anything like that before,” Jesse finished. She looked far off toward the sea. “I’m not sure it ever happens like that twice. Not once you know how bad it can get.”
    The expression on everybody’s faces quickly turned serious.

CHAPTER
18
    JESSE WAS BACK IN THE ENORMOUS BED IN CESAR’S hotel in 1977. She lay on her stomach, her head nestled into an impossibly fluffy pillow, and smiled at Cesar. He reached out his hand and gently fingered a stray curl from Jesse’s hair. He tucked it behind her ear and traced her face with his finger—her arched eyebrows, the delicate bridge of her nose. He brushed his thumb across her lips. “I’m in love with you, Jesse Brighton.” Jesse blinked and giggled, started to protest. “No, wait,” Cesar said, stopping her. “I’ve waited a long time for this feeling. If you don’t share it, please don’t spoil it for me.” Jesse pulled the smile off her lips, and closed her eyes. She found that she had memorized his face. The number of hairs in his full brows, the diameter of his curls, and the laugh lines barely visible around his coal-black eyes. She loved that face. She loved the outrageous stories of his childhood and travels. She loved his impassioned talk of changing the world. She loved him.
    â€œI love you, too,” Jesse said as she opened her eyes.
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    Jesse coughed raggedly with her hand over her mouth. She snapped her fingers and Isabel tossed her the pack of cigarettes. “Yeah, so, he came back to New York two weeks later and proposed. He flew my parents in for dinner, and then I packed and moved to Panama.”
    â€œWow, romantic!” I said.
    â€œYour father let you go?” Cornell asked, indignant.
    Jesse turned to Cornell. “I wasn’t asking permission. I’d been on my own a long time, and it’s not like my family had any room to give advice on marriage. My mother was the textbook definition of depression. She was in and out of hospitals my whole life. My father, he hired a nanny and—” Jesse looked away “—and had lots of affairs, I assume.”
    Jesse looked down and realized she hadn’t lit her cigarette. She flicked the