Some Lucky Woman

by Carmen DeSousa

  A chuckle escaped my mouth. I wasn’t sure whether to be mad that he’d cut me off and knew everything I did, or thrilled that a man had taken so much interest in my life that he even knew I pinned images of places that I’d visited to my Pinterest board.

  “What’s funny?” Howard asked as he navigated the narrow streets of Greensburg.

  I adjusted my body so I was facing him. “Nothing.”

  Howard flicked his eyes to me, smiling. “I told you. I research. And you made it extremely easy. Your website has all your social sites listed right on your homepage. Facebook, Twitter, Google plus, Pinterest, and Instagram. You sure made it easy for someone to stalk you.”

  A little cold from the AC that was set on high, I flicked the vent closed. I couldn’t imagine why he had the AC on in fifty-degree weather. “That’s the idea, Howard, I make it easy for my readers to connect with me. But I don’t have my home address listed anywhere, or any pictures of my house or neighborhood.”

  Responding to my closing the vent, Howard turned the AC to low. “No, but you’re also on Yelp, and you broadcast your location every place you go.”

  I smiled. “Are you concerned, Howard? Far as I know, you’re the only man who’s ever stalked me.”

  “Actually, I am concerned. There are some crazy people out there, Jana.”

  My son had said the same thing. I briefly wondered what Eric would think of Howard stalking all my social sites. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I actually thought about that. I don’t check-in at the places I visit until I leave, and sometimes I take days to post the reviews.”

  “That does make me feel a little better. You just never know.”

  My phone vibrated, but I didn’t look down, didn’t want to know who was calling or texting me. “Oh, I know, believe me. I’ve never had anything bad happen, but I have had a woman stalk me for a while, who claimed after she read my first novel that I was her one true love.”

  Howard laughed again. “What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing. My agent told me that it’s better to act as though you never received the message. Eventually, the woman gave up trying to message me.”

  “Smart. I guess you don’t need protecting from the wolves.”

  I thought about his comment, in response to my comment earlier today. No, I didn’t need protecting, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want someone standing guard. It had been nice when I was married and we went out to restaurants, knowing I didn’t have to look around the parking lot, that Dick would take care of that.

  Adrian too. I’d felt safer with Adrian than I’d ever felt in my life. We’d been so natural together. Whether we were kayaking, eating, watching TV, or snuggling on the sofa, I’d felt safe. Safe from intruders, but most of all, from loneliness. I’d thought that I’d buried that fear, but in just a few short days, it had reared its ugly head.

  “Jana …” Howard squeezed my hand.

  Lost in my thoughts, I looked up. “Yeah?”

  “We’re here.”

  I glanced around, noticing the car had come to a stop on a narrow two-lane road, directly outside a line of shops. Where had the time gone? “Oh … sorry. I was thinking.”

  Howard brushed my hair over my shoulder. “What were you thinking about?”

  I jerked upright. “Nothing important. Where are we?”

  Howard stepped out of the car and made his way to the passenger door, opening it. “The Duquesne Incline.”

  Not wanting to look like a witch, as I was afraid I’d come off earlier in the day, I accepted his outstretched hand. “Oh! I wanted to do this!”

  “I figured you would. What’s a visit to Pittsburgh without visiting one of the steepest inclines in the world? The Monongahela is even steeper, but this one is closer to the Le Mont, the restaurant where I made dinner reservations.”

  “Aren’t you presumptuous?”

  Howard chuckled. “My job is to make you feel welcome, so you’ll want to stay.”

  Not believing that for a second, I looked up at him. “Is that a fact? Do you do that for all your writers?”

  Howard released a long breath. “No, I don’t.”

  I stopped on the sidewalk and Howard turned to me. “Then why me, Howard?”

  He took my hand. “I just want you to feel comfortable, Jana. Come on.” Howard pulled me beside him, ending the conversation. He stepped onto a platform that overlooked Pittsburgh.

  As I took in the view, I no longer wanted to ask questions. All of Pittsburgh was spread out below us, including the stadiums for the Steelers and the Pirates, as well as all of the bridges.

  “It’s breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Howard stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He leaned over my shoulder, and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. “It is. One of the reasons I like living here.”

  “That’s right. Brent said you had a home on Mount Washington. Is that where we are?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart skipped a beat at his one-word answer. “Well, let’s see this world-famous incline.” We needed to get going. Standing in the chilly air made me … for just a second … want Howard to wrap his arms around me. And that wouldn’t be good for either of us.

  After the ride, Howard directed me to the restaurant where he’d made reservations. From the outside, the restaurant looked like a long brick wall, which was strange, because most restaurants I’d ever been to always strived to have massive curb appeal. But here, on the edge of a cliff, there wasn’t any room for curb appeal — in the front. No, the dining establishments on Mount Washington, I imagined, saved their designing budget for the inside of the restaurant, for the view on the backside of the establishment.

  What greeted me inside was spectacular. Floor-to-ceiling windows flanked by lavish gold drapes and brilliant chandeliers. Thousands of dangling prisms cast dazzling filtered light across every inch of the room, making the area appear as if it were alive. The wall of windows lent another awe-inspiring view of the city. Only now the sun had set, so the millions of city lights below twinkled. It was almost as though I were looking down on the stars instead of up at them.

  The best part of dinner was dessert. I’d always been a fan of bananas Foster, and nothing beat having dessert prepared tableside, blazing. Thankfully, Howard had warned me to save room.

  I wondered for a second … Had I mentioned that bananas Foster was my favorite dessert? Then it hit me: I had. P.F. Changs. I’d posted a review on Yelp, along with an image of the popular chain’s version of bananas Foster. Howard really had done his homework. The idea of Howard stalking all my social sites gave me pause. Had he really been checking on his investment, or was Howard going off some movie script, where a man learned all about a woman so that he could woo her?

  That’s silly, Jana, I told myself. Howard doesn’t have to woo women; women probably line themselves up outside his Malibu home.

  ***

  After the valet brought the car around, Howard drove less than a quarter mile down the road, then turned into the driveway of an unimpressive three-story — well, four stories if you counted the two-car garage on the first level — home. The tan-colored brick with white trim was plain, and the width of the house couldn’t have been more than twenty feet. Also, I was pretty sure if I stood between the house and the neighboring house, I could spread my arms and touch both.

  Howard turned off the car, put on the emergency brake, and then hopped out. Within seconds he was at my door, opening it.

  I tentatively accepted his outstretched hand again. “Where are we, Howard?”

  “My house.”

  I shook my head. “Uh … not a good idea. What will the tabloids say?”

  Howard flashed an impish smile, then winked. “That’s why I left early, out the side door. Come on, love.”

  Hesitantly, I followed him. Not that I had a choice, since his large hand was clutched around my smaller hand as he led me up the front steps to double doors.

&nb
sp; As soon as I stepped inside, I realized, like the restaurant, curb appeal meant nothing at the top of Mount Washington. Rich mahogany floors welcomed me into Howard’s home. A white wainscoted banister sat to the left of the entry, but Howard led me through the parlor, stepping behind a well-stocked bar. Heck, he had more varieties of liquor than the Speakeasy. Rows at least ten bottles wide and three bottles deep sat on a shelf behind him.

  “Expecting a party, Howard?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s what people expect.”

  “Again with the doing what people expect.”

  “I have to entertain on occasion.”

  “I can imagine,” I said. “Tell me something, though … Do you like it?”

  He shook his head. “Hate it. But I love what I do — making movies — and one begets the other.”

  I nodded. I could understand that. I loved writing, but I didn’t always love what came with it, the reason I’d wanted an agent so badly.

  Howard reached beneath the bar and pulled out a bottle of Mt. Brave 2008 Merlot. “Can I interest you in a glass?”

  “You’re starting to scare me, Howard.”

  “Why? Just because I happened to pick up on some of the things you like while checking out my investment?”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “That’s exactly why!”

  “Why?” he asked, a serious look in his bright blue eyes. “Any man could have done this, Jana. Is it so wrong that I took an interest in someone I’d be spending the next year or so with?”

  I shrugged. “When you put it that way, I guess it does make sense. That’s a sixty-dollar bottle of wine, though.”

  “A bargain, if you ask me. You did your homework for your book. This wine scored as well as wines five times as expensive.” Howard expertly used a simple corkscrew to open the bottle, then poured just about an ounce in a glass and set it in front of me to test.

  I did my best impression of a wine taster. I sniffed, swirled the red liquid in the glass, and then finally took a sip. I drew the line at spitting out perfectly good wine, though.

  “Good?” he inquired.

  “Wonderful.” I pushed my glass forward.

  Howard filled my glass to about twice what I usually poured for myself, then filled a glass for himself. He stepped around the bar, then led me to the outside deck.

  “It’s amazing. How do you ever get accustomed to the view?”

  “I don’t. I love it. When I bought the house, it needed so much updating and remodeling, but all I saw were the three floors of balconies. Whether I’m in my office, the living room, or my bedroom, I have a view.”

  I took my third large gulp of wine, already feeling the warmth in my chest as it slid down my throat. “Brent said you have a house in Malibu. That must be beautiful.”

  Howard set his glass on the deck, then rested his hands on the railing, effectively boxing me in. “It’s nice, but it’s dark at night. Nothing to see. I like the muted light from the city. It’s better than candlelight, don’t you think?”

  I turned around, wanting to escape his makeshift gate, but instead, I found myself inches from his mouth. “I think …” I gulped. “I think you’re trying to seduce me, Howard.”

  He lowered his head to my cheek, and again, I could feel his warm breath on my ear. “Why do you think that, Jana?”

  “Because you know all the things I like …” His lips touched my neck, and I gasped. “Howard, I …” His lips moved up my neck, across the line of my jaw. “I can’t.” I pushed his arm aside, took a few steps, and then crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t.”

  He took a step forward. “Jana, I have no plans to seduce you. But, we’re two consenting adults. Surely you can’t deny the attraction.”

  “I can’t — I mean, I can deny the attraction. We can’t do this.”

  Howard narrowed his eyes. “Why? Are you in a relationship? If you are, just tell me, Jana. But I thought …”

  Was I? I loved Adrian, but technically, we weren’t in a relationship. But … we could have been … if he hadn’t been married. If he hadn’t lied to me.

  Howard took another step forward and rested his hands on my waist. “If you have to think that long —”

  I stared up at Howard, cutting off his words with just my gaze. He was older than I was, late forties, I suspected. He wasn’t married. And he was handsome. I could pen pages about just his eyes alone, and then there was his strong jaw line, wide shoulders, trim waist.

  “Jana …”

  I licked my lips, and that was all it took. He closed his mouth over mine, parted my lips with his mouth. His lips were full and soft, gentle, but demanding. He continued to kiss me as he lowered me to the chaise behind me.

  “Howard,” I tried to speak through his kisses, “we can’t.”

  He pulled back. “Don’t overanalyze this, Jana, just kiss me.” He pressed his lips against mine again.

  As warm as his lips were, as good as he tasted, I couldn’t.

  Howard’s house wasn’t the only thing on a steep incline. I felt as though I were too. Any second I’d be in danger of falling off an emotional cliff. I’d worked too hard to get my life in order.

  I pulled back. “I’m sorry, Howard, but I can’t. Not tonight. I have to think about this.”

  He stood, extended his hand again. “It’s okay, love. I asked, you said, no. I can live with that. What I couldn’t live with is not trying.” He brushed my hair away from my face. “And, Jana, just so you know, it’s you who has seduced me.”

  Chapter 35 – HELL for Two Weeks

  Not that I’d ever fallen asleep, not deeply anyway, but when I woke up, I felt worse than I did the previous days, even though I’d only had a couple glasses of wine — well, maybe several based on the size of Howard’s pour.

  Also, I liked sleeping in my own bed. Not that the hotel was home, but I’d already gotten comfortable, but Howard had pressed me to stay the night. Insisted that I’d have the entire top floor of his home all to myself. I could have demanded that he drive me home, but we’d both had a few glasses of wine. Maybe I needed to just rent a car. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about who was supposed to drive me. Home, that is. Drive me home.

  I mentally slapped myself for allowing my mind to wander to unsafe territories, which it had been doing too much of lately.

  Two weeks! How in the world would I be able to endure two weeks of Howard Edwards the Second? Two weeks with a man who seemed to know everything about me, and what he didn’t know, he wasn’t afraid to ask. Two weeks with a man who exuded charm and confidence, and amazingly enough, he was nice, and funny. And I enjoyed talking to him. And he was just too damn good-looking for his own good. For my own good. And I was in love with another man. Even though I was mad at Adrian, I couldn’t deny that I was in love with him, the reason I’d stop Howard’s advances. His kiss … Jana, I warned myself again. Unsafe territory, remember?

  Besides, how many women had Howard pulled his seduction tactics on? Certainly I wasn’t the only woman whom he’d used social media to discover all of her likes and dislikes.

  His words from last night bounced through my head. And, Jana, just so you know, it’s you who has seduced me. My brain … my heart had been harried by his statement. What had he meant by saying that I’d seduced him? I hadn’t done anything. I’d done nothing but dodge his advances, while trying to stay in good standing with the powerful man who was producing my first book.

  I rolled out of bed and walked to the French doors that led to the top deck. I opened them, but the crisp November wind was a bit much for me, especially since I was only wearing the large T-shirt Howard had provided for me the previous night.

  A knock on the door startled me. “Jana … You awake?”

  “Yes …” I looked down at my bare feet, then flashed a peek into a brass-framed mirror that hung on the wall. I ruffled my hair, pulling it over to one side, then checked my eyes. I hadn’t taken off my mascara, so a few black flecks rested below my eyes. �
��Just a sec,” I called. I ran into the bathroom, swiped at my face with a tissue, quickly brushed my teeth with the brush he’d given me, and then looked for a bathrobe. There wasn’t one. I inspected myself in the mirror, making sure the large T-shirt covered me, then ran back out to greet Howard.

  When I opened the door, my mouth dropped open at what I saw in his hands.

  Howard walked in with a tray, setting it on a small round table with chairs on either side. “Hot herbal tea and an English muffin with peanut butter. Coffee’s later, right?”

  I bit down on my lip, then shook my head. “It’s not fair.”

  Howard tilted his head. “What’s not fair?”

  “This …” I waved my hand at the breakfast tray. “These are things that people learn about you after knowing you a couple of years. You’re not supposed to be able to pick up a person’s likes and dislikes on social media in a couple of days. It’s cheating.”

  Without commenting, Howard took a step toward me. I couldn’t help but admire how good he looked in black and red flannel pants and a white T-shirt.

  He held his hand out to me, palm open, but I wasn’t sure what he wanted. It looked as though he wanted me to take his hand.

  Reluctantly, I laid my hand in his. As the previous night, my heart started fluttering again. Simply because he’d requested my hand. What was wrong with me?

  Howard closed his hand around mine, and led me out of the room, down a flight of stairs, and into a room that was wall-to-wall bookshelves. Dark stained mahogany, with deep red painted walls. The floor was dark wood again, but the plush Oriental carpet beneath my feet felt comfy enough to lie down on.

  My hand still clasped in his, Howard walked over to one of the shelves. He ran his fingers across the spines of all my books. “I’ve known you for years, Jana.”

  I covered my mouth with my free hand. “You read all of my books?”

  Howard turned to me. “How else would I get to know you?”

  I pulled away from him to walk around the room, scanning the shelves. All the classics were there, as well as many great thrillers, mysteries, and plenty of non-fiction. But no romantic-suspense. No romance. No chick lit. Nothing even similar to my types of books.