Disappointment fills Summer’s eyes. “Fuck. And I’m leaving early on Sunday morning.” She goes quiet for a moment, and then her expression brightens. “That’s fine. It just means we need to do all our catching up tonight. Where should I put my bag?” I press my knuckles to my mouth to smother a laugh. I get the feeling there’s nothing on God’s green planet that can bring Summer Di Laurentis down. She seems like the kind of chick who falls asleep wearing a smile.
