Divorced fifty-one year old Summer Rabelais is immediately knocked off her moorings by the gorgeous twenty-three year old Aussie Brad Benson the moment the two meet. Their passions explode, but Brad’s youthful declaration of love signals Summer that they have gone too far too fast. Unable to deny the delights her young lover is providing, Summer knows well how it all must end for them. It’s her corresponding passion for her photography business, as well as her daughter Candace’s relentless interest in Brad, that brings Summer to the crossroads. Can she teach Brad the difference between lust and love in time to save his and Candace’s more fulfilling future together, as she also embraces the future to which her own artistic passion has guided her?
Summer Rabelais succeeds where the iconic “Mrs. Robinson,” famous in song and story, didn’t and couldn’t.
Summer opened her mouth but no words came out. She was desperately searching for something to say that would safely back them down from the top of Love Mountain, but not take the momentum out of what could still be a wonderful evening and maybe more. Then Summer froze. He doesn’t know how old I really am. I never confirmed it. Oh my God, he has no idea I’m fifty-one!
“Please say something, Summer, anything,” Brad pleaded. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring you? Brad, I just don’t know what to say. We haven’t even been on a first date yet. And that’s assuming we figure out what this evening is supposed to be.”
She saw that beautifully sculpted vision of perfection descend into instant despair. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m so sorry. I see I’ve upset you.”
Summer shook her head emphatically. “No. No. You haven’t upset me, Brad.” She reached across for his hand and clasped it into hers. “I wasn’t expecting anything like it. I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to say what you did, but I was hoping all along that this was not just a business dinner.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Summer felt Brad’s hand clasping hers more tightly now. “But I believe I have a confession to make to you too. And I think I need to confess it before this proceeds any further.”
She saw Brad take a big gulp. “I’m listening.” She could see that, while his expression had risen from that earlier despair, it was still set tentatively, as if expecting unwelcome news.
“Brad, I’m not somewhere in my mid-thirties like I may have led you to believe when we were talking about age earlier today.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes, I know.”
“How?”
“Because I saw the other person who was helping you today. I assumed from what you had told me when we first met that it was your daughter. I guessed she was about my age, which meant you might actually be as old as my mother.”
At the sound of “mother,” Summer felt herself hurtling to her death down the side of Love Mountain. “How old is your mother?” Summer made no attempt to hide the forlorn tone of her voice.
“Forty-nine. I know that because I promised to take her on a cruise for her fiftieth birthday and she’s been looking at brochures for next spring.”
Summer saw the ground at the base of the mountain careening toward her at light speed. “Forty-nine? Forty-nine? Brad I’m fif...I’m two years older than your mother.”
Brad’s expression darkened. “Oh, no.”
“Oh yes.” Summer felt herself slamming into the mountain’s base and thinking the restaurant and the universe had fallen into the mortal emptiness of deep space.
“I feel so bad,” Brad said.
“Not as bad as I do, I bet.” Summer could not look at him now, could not bring herself to see the disappointment, and more probably, the horror in his face.
She heard him say, “I feel terrible that I missed the opportunity to take you on a cruise for your fiftieth.”
Summer felt herself stop breathing. She turned back to Brad, and saw that he was beaming that high wattage smile again.
“Say that again?”
“I said—I would have loved to have taken you on a cruise for your fiftieth. Although I don’t know how much we would have seen other than the insides of our stateroom.”
Brad leaned in toward Summer, his once again vision of perfection flickering longingly in the candlelight. She felt both his hands on hers, and then she felt his foot find hers below the table.
“You don’t mind that I’m two years older than your...well, you know.”
“My mother? No, not at all. She’s a beautiful woman, too. But not as beautiful as you, and I certainly don’t feel about her the way I feel about you.”
“But I’m fifty-one!”
“And I’m twenty-three. They’re just numbers. They have nothing to do with the way I feel about you. Remember, I was falling in love with you even though I had already guessed how old you might be. You are still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want you, Summer.”
The pure innocence and honesty on Brad’s face was beyond reproach. Summer was back at the crest of the mountain again. This time, though, she lifted herself into Brad’s waiting arms, scaled the top, and gazed out over the horizon with him.
“And I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you, Brad.” A cluster of fluttering monarchs seemed to have invaded her.
They both leaned further into the table and when their lips met, Summer felt a heat that immediately ignited her to the center of her loins. As their kiss lingered and their tongues found each other’s and began their wanton play, Summer reached below the table and began stroking Brad’s thigh. Its rock hard feel excited her with his rugged masculinity. This is definitely no boy.
