Jinxed

by Inez Kelley

  “Lady and Gentleman, may I present to you one walking-funny Captain America who just got his red-white-and-blue ass soundly kicked by yours truly.”

  Jinx walked behind her and ruffled her neon hair. “I can’t believe I lost to a girl.”

  Tracey slicked her hair back with both hands and slid into the booth beside Steve. She picked up the discarded money as Jinx’s thigh bumped Frannie’s.

  “Girl? Who are you calling a girl, loverboy? Oh yeah, that would be me, the woman with your fifty bucks.”

  Jinx picked up a fry dripping with thick gluey cheese and bits of bacon. He motioned to the table with it. “Yeah, you. The woman with my fifty bucks who is paying for our dinner.”

  Frannie watched them banter back and forth with rapt attention. Tracey liked him. She never joked with you unless she liked you. Jinx had passed part two of the Boyfriend Test. The weight coming off her chest took her by surprise. Gleefully, she leaned over and pecked Jinx’s cheek. He leaned back and dropped a swift kiss on her slick lips.

  “Gimme a break. Think you can go for two minutes without mauling her there, loverboy? People are trying to eat here.”

  Before Jinx could reply, Steve grabbed Tracey’s face and kissed her hard. When he broke away, she had a dazed euphoric look on her face. Jinx cleared his throat pointedly and arched his brow.

  Tracey blushed and picked up her beer mug. “Yeah, well, doing it and watching it are two different ballgames.”

  When they all decided to try their hands at the scarred dart board, Tracey snagged her arm and whispered, “He’s a keeper, chick.”

  Frannie’s stomach sank into a greasy lump. Lawd, don’t I wish he was.

  {

  “Well, Cinderella, ready to go to the ball?” Jinx knocked on the bathroom door.

  Frannie sprayed one last blast of hairspray. “Almost ready, give me a minute.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go warm up the car.”

  One more spritz of perfume between her boobs and on her neck and she was finished. Deciding to maximize her shortcomings, Frannie had chosen a Renaissance-inspired gown of rich coffee velvet. The low square neckline was tight against her unbound breasts. The empire waist forced the tops to swell upward like golden apples at harvest. Her only adornment was the dark gold filigree appliqué along the bust edges and cuffs. The deep velvet caught the light and shimmered with a life of its own. Tight sleeves warded off the night’s chilly air and made her feel graceful and elegant. Cinderella she wasn’t but she wouldn’t be mistaken for the hired help.

  With a quick check on the hairclip that secured her upswept hair, she opened the door. Jinx, positively delicious in a classic tuxedo, came through the dining room. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.

  “Frannie, you’re beautiful.”

  The blush that stole to her cheeks sent tingles through her bloodstream. He was lying, of course, but she didn’t care. She felt pretty. And tonight, she was celebrating. She had finished wrapping up Jinx’s Christmas gift and was filled with the holiday spirit. Doing a little twirl, she smiled widely at him.

  He caught her waist and pulled her close. “You take my breath away, my Frannie.”

  “Then let me give it back.”

  Just a fraction of an inch from his mouth, she pressed her lips together and blew. Fingers tightened on her sides and he dipped his head to imprison her lips with his. Flames of desire exploded. Their tongues danced and stroked, striving to quench the burning thirst that gripped them.

  Uplifted and pressed together, her breasts began to swell, threatening to spill over the golden edging of her bodice. Against her stomach, his erection pressed hard and obvious. His midnight hair trickled through her fingers and she pulled his head harder to her. One step and he had her back against the wall. Down her jaw line, he blazed a trail of liquid fire, scorching her with his passion. Hot breath fanning his hair, she murmured his name. Sharp teeth nipped at her exposed throat and he sank to his knees. The perfumed cleavage seemed to captivate him. Each mounded breast felt the soft caress of his tongue over and over until the hardened crests peeked from the gown’s edge. He cupped the underside of each breast and an intoxicating quiver grew in her when he mouthed a rosy tip. A low moan wrenched from her throat.

  Her hand on his shoulder shook. “Jinx, stop. We have to go.”

  “Forget about the party.” His voice was raspy, filled with want.

  “We can’t. McGee’s expecting us and we’re supposed to pick up Steve and Tracey.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth from her skin and closed his eyes.

  “I know, damn it.” Opening his eyes, his smoldering gaze locked with hers. “Tonight, we finish this.”

  “Oh, most definitely,” she whispered, wiping lipstick from a corner of his lip. Looking down into his face, she fought the words that wanted to escape. Instead she opted for sassiness. She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Tonight, while we are surrounded by people, I want you to think about something.”

  “What?”

  Her voice dropped another notch and she dared a tiny lick on the side of his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

  She left him kneeling before the wall, fists clenched, jaw tight and pants tented in the front.

  “Tracey, I mean it, I love your hair! You look gorgeous,” Frannie gushed to her smiling friend.

  Tracey, true to her word, had traded in her neon orange hair for locks the shade of a wet raven. The glossy color, enhanced by the halter gown of beaded red, framed her elfin face. She shrugged her bare shoulders self-consciously. “I figured it was time for a change. It’s temporary, anyway. I can wash it out in a couple days. But I’m not losing the nose ring for anybody.”

  “Good for you.”

  The women stood talking and Steve and Jinx went for drinks. Around them, nearly a hundred other guests mingled and chatted to a string quartet playing classical holiday music. Ice sculptures glistened in frosty splendor and the twinkling lights strung overhead mimicked the stars outside. McGee’s annual holiday party was always held in his huge glass-enclosed sunroom, which offered a grand backdrop of snowy hills and ice-encrusted trees swaying in the wind.

  “Swanky.” Tracey’s smile vied for attention with the lights when the men appeared bearing alcohol. Latching on to her Manhattan like a newborn calf, she revealed her nerves.

  Steve laughed and stilled her elbow. “Slow down, Trace. You’re going to end up blitzed before the first course.”

  “I have zero problem with that,” she muttered. McGee swooped down on their group like a jovial wraith. A gracious host, he complimented the women, smacked the men on the back and encouraged them to enjoy themselves. Always on the prowl for opportunity, he directed Jinx’s attention to several prominent guests, guests who would be interested in hearing about Buddies’ on an investment level if Jinx was interested.

  He swooped to the next group and Jinx conspiratorially whispered, “Does he remind anyone else of Mr. Magoo?”

  Tracey sprayed Manhattan two feet and burst into laughter. Frannie smiled as he soothed the nervous woman into relaxing. He’s a snake charmer, she thought, not for the first time. And for now, he’s all mine.

  The night was lively and festive. The five-course dinner surpassed last year’s menu and champagne flowed like water. Tracey started laughing without the aid of liquor and Steve kept stealing hot looks at her when he thought no one was looking. Frannie nudged him under the table and saluted him with her glass. He reciprocated with a wink.

  Once the tables were removed, the dancing began. More instruments joined in and the party atmosphere kicked up. People danced everything from the lindy to the electric slide. Frannie tried to draw Jinx onto the dance floor but he laughed her off, claiming a birth defect of two left feet. Tracey shocked everyone by doing a great jitterbug with the head of Miners and Merchants Bank that made the crowd clap with approval.

  A waltz began just as many dancers desperately needed a break and Jinx pulled Frannie onto t
he floor. Apparently his two left feet could handle a box step. Filled with the cheer of the jolly surroundings, she delighted in his arms around her. They swayed and swished, twirled and glided. The crowd faded away as they made love with only their eyes. Frannie breathed deep and let the spicy scent of his aftershave infuse her senses. The music created the perfect seduction mood and her body tensed in anticipation. Against her back, his hand traced a lazy path, sending heat coursing through her veins. His eyes trapped hers and spoke to her soul, secret whispers of promised passion and pleasure. Long after the music faded away, they stayed in each other’s arms, tied by an invisible silken cord.

  “Come pee with me.” Tracey ripped Frannie out of the sensual mood and out of Jinx’s arms. With a tiny apologetic smile, she allowed herself to be pulled behind the tiny dynamo.

  The line at the bar was short so Jinx grabbed a beer and settled in an abandoned chair beside an ice carving to wait for Frannie. Tipping the chair back against a white fluted column, he frowned at the frosty statue trickling water into a silvered basin filled with greenery. Puzzled, he tried to figure out what swans had to do with Christmas. Since it was obviously beyond his grasp, he shrugged and observed the dancers and the mingling guests.

  Eavesdropping was not something he frequently practiced but when he heard his company’s name, he tuned in to the slurred female voices behind the column.

  “…owns Buddies’ Toys.”

  “McGee might as well worship the ground Sullivan walks on. How does a nobody from accounting score the largest account of the year? I don’t get it. And I heard she got a huge bonus. It’s not fair.”

  “Open your eyes. She’s getting more than a bonus from that account. She’s practically been in his lap all damn night.”

  “It has to be a pity date. My brother has bigger boobs.”

  “Betcha she’s trying to land another rich husband. You knew she’s Mark Sullivan’s ex, right?”

  “No! She was Missus Doctor Yummy? What happened?”

  “All I know is she came out with barely enough to make a down payment on some cheap little fixer-upper. Everything was all hush-hush.”

  “There’s no way I’d let a man like Dr. Yummy get away from me.”

  “Brad’s friends with Dr. Yummy and he said that Mark told him she…”

  A loud clatter drowned out the rest of the drunken woman’s words. Angry fist clenched around the cold bottle, Jinx glared at the clumsy waiter who had dropped a tray full of dirty glasses. The crashing echo died away and he listened hard, hoping to hear more. The women were cackling now.

  “I can believe that. I mean, seriously, it would be like picking peanut butter over caviar.”

  Bile rose in his throat, a burning, bitter taste. These bitches were laughing at Frannie. Protectiveness boiled through his veins. Although he wished he had heard the rest, he had heard enough. Drawing himself out of the chair, he straightened his jacket, smoothed his hair and rounded the pillar, charm notched at his highest level.

  “Hello, ladies.” They turned their overly bright eyes toward him and dual fake smiles popped out like timers on an overdone turkey breast.

  “Mr. Sullivan, are you having a good time?” the stunning redhead in white purred.

  Careful to keep his disgust hidden, he ignored her question and handed his nearly full beer bottle to a passing waiter. “Maybe you ladies can help me with a quandary I have discovered myself in.”

  “Oh, of course, we’re here to help in any way,” the dark-haired woman gushed and rested her claw-like hand on his sleeve.

  He stared at it a fraction of a second too long for a cursory glance before replying. “See, I love Frannie Sullivan and I plan to marry her. But the thought of her being associated with a company that employs nasty gossiping bitches such as you two makes me sick.” He smiled and their faces paled, their throats bobbing with swallowed guilt. “So, should I have Ron fire you tonight or should I wait until after the New Year?”

  The brunette started to shake, her bangs bouncing on her forehead. The redhead gripped her fluted glass so hard Jinx was sure it would shatter and splash burgundy liquid across her obviously enhanced and exposed cleavage. She tried to make an excuse.

  “We didn’t mean…”

  “Save it.” He snapped his eyes to hers. Wide with unshed tears, they should have made him feel guilty but didn’t. He was too angry to feel pity. A red haze blurred everything in his vision and a pulse in his temple pounded. He allowed a sardonic element to creep into his grin. Frannie told him this made him look shark-like and he relished the thought now. A predator is what he wanted them to think about. Shake in those high heels, you fucking bitches. “A bit of advice, ladies. Never piss off a man in love when he has the power to get your harpy asses fired.”

  Although he wouldn’t ask for their jobs, he did want to let McGee know those two were to stay far, far away from anything to do with the Buddies’ account and from Frannie. He knew the simple request would be accepted. Invading their space, he leaned in a fraction too close. They both angled back as if he were spitting nails.

  “Now, excuse me, I have some business to conduct.”

  With a casual nod, he walked away. Raw fury churned in his gut like a rumbling volcano. A whimper escaped one of the women and his chest pounded with victory. Good, live in fear. He could feel their eyes boring into his back and deliberately kept his stride calm and relaxed as he approached their boss. A few whispered words in McGee’s ear and a pointed look in their direction sent the women into a panic. Even across the room he could see the redhead’s abundant chest heaving. The older man nodded and clapped his shoulder boisterously.

  Jinx raised a hand in farewell and walked past the distressed women whistling “Jingle Bells”, seemingly not a care in the world. Lip twitching in ironic humor, he stopped and gave them a half bow, complete with self-satisfied smirk. “Merry Christmas, ladies. And have a Happy New Year.”

  They might have sent him killing looks had their sprightly boss not been bearing down on them like the Ghost of Christmas Pissed.

  HoHoHobags. I hope you choke on your razor tongues.

  Frannie entered the gala room and he grasped her elbow. “Ready to go?”

  She narrowed her eyes and studied him. “You look like the Cheshire Cat. What are you up to?”

  “Me? Nothing. Just spreading a little holiday cheer.”

  From the depths of the back seat, an inebriated Tracey announced she was hungry. And her panty hose were twisted. And she had to pee again. Steve shook his head in amusement and Frannie snickered at her best friend.

  Jinx said nothing but tapped his finger on the steering wheel, drumming a furious rhythm that drew her attention. Tight muscles knotted at his jaw line and his brows almost met. He had not said more than four words since the dome light went out. Those were directed at the car in front of them and contained two curse words.

  Cattycorner behind him, Frannie watched his eyes in the darkened rearview mirror. He alternated between staring and blinking several times in rapid succession. Tension came off his shoulders in waves, like heat off a car hood in the summer.

  “You okay?” Concern softened her voice. His eyes flicked to the mirror and captured hers. One quick nod and a wink from him and she felt oddly comforted. He had something on his mind but wasn’t ready to talk about it with so many people in the vehicle.

  “I’m hungry, too.” His deep voice yanked her face back to the front of the car. “I’m going to drop you and boozer off at the house then Steve and I’ll go pick up a pizza or something.”

  “I’m not a boozer, loverboy, so bite me. I’m just three sheets to the Christmas wind.” The statement was punctuated by a high-pitched burp. Everyone chuckled but no one spoke for the rest of the drive. Tracey sang a nasty version of “Jolly Old St. Nicholas”.

  Frannie rubbed Jinx’s shoulder and the warmth of her fingers lingered through his tuxedo jacket long after she helped Tracey from the back seat. He watched the women hurry up the
walkway then thrust the SUV into reverse.

  “So.” Steve turned slightly to him and grinned. “What’s up? It doesn’t take two people to pick up pizza and you’re going to break the steering wheel if you grip it any tighter.”

  Running his tongue along his upper teeth, Jinx stomped on the gas pedal. The SUV jumped and hummed like a big cat, echoing his driving need for information.

  “You’ve known Frannie a long time.”

  “Yeah?” The cautious question in Steve’s tone and his sudden still body language comforted Jinx. This was not a man used to telling tales about his friends.

  “I need help, Steve.”

  “Help like how? Like Viagra help or like Dr. Phil help?”

  One brow hiked up in annoyance, he glared at his acerbic passenger. “Neither, smartass. I want you to tell me everything you know about Frannie and Dr. Mark Sullivan.”

  “That will take all of ten minutes. I stayed away from asshole, I mean, Mark, as much as possible. All I really know is whatever happened crushed her. She doesn’t talk about it and it took a long time for her to get over. Why? You thinking of proposing? For real?”

  “I have several times. I just want a different answer next time.”

  “Can’t help you. She’s scared but I really don’t know why.”

  Fingers flexing on the steering wheel, Jinx forced the words past his teeth. “Did he…did he hit her?”

  Steve turned his face to the window in contemplation for several minutes. “I never saw any bruises. I did ask once and she swore he never touched her. I believed her at the time. When she left him, she stayed at my apartment for a week or so until she got her mind straightened out and found a place. I always thought it was strange she never cried once but maybe by then she was all cried out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mark couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. It went on for years and I think she knew it. That has to mess with a person’s head.” Steve looked at him with a frown. Jinx braced for whatever was coming because it didn’t feel like it was going to be good. “Look, I’m the last guy to give anyone advice on women. Just back off a little. Give her some time. Frannie’s like one of those little yippy dogs, all bluster and bark, ready to bite your head off. But you get too close too fast and she’s going to yelp and run away.”