Jinxed!

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  The biggest surprise of all, however, was the fact that the man she’d thought for so many months to be a soulless clone had proven heart-meltingly romantic. He’d surprised her with a late-night champagne and chocolate picnic in his hot tub. Burnt a CD of her favorite songs. Slipped her sexy, handwritten, one-line notes when he came into Constant Cravings in the morning for his coffee. Called during the day to see how she was doing. Little things that he said were his way to show that he could stop and smell the roses-because, he’d admitted, she was right. He hadn’t been taking time to do that. All his time and attention had been devoted to work and his career. But, as he’d explained last night, that was because he hadn’t met anyone who’d inspired him to make a change. Until now.

  Last night…She made her away into the building, pushed the up button on the elevator and her eyes slid closed. Last night had been…perfect. She’d prepared dinner at her place, an Italian feast of antipasto and lasagna, setting the mood with candlelight and Evan’s favorite red wine. He’d arrived with his arms filled with dozens of pale pink peonies. You must have bought every peony in California, she’d said, delighted at the sweet gesture. He’d looked at her through serious blue eyes, then said, You’re worth it. And that was the instant that it clicked into place in her mind.

  She was in love with him.

  Yes, he was a rule follower, but he was also a man of integrity, something that had been sadly lacking and too easily compromised in many of the other men she’d dated. And, yes, he still thought her window displays were too risqué for Fairfax, but, as in other matters where their opinions had differed, they’d agreed to disagree.

  “And to think, without Madame Karma, we might have just gone on thinking the worst of each other,” she murmured to herself as the elevator doors slid open. Indeed, during the past month, not only had their streaks of bad luck ended, but some of the previous disasters had corrected themselves. Sasha no longer chewed on shoes-except for flip-flops-and the dry cleaner had recovered Evan’s clothes. The timer on Lacey’s stove had been miraculously “cured,” and she found a pair of the exact sandals that had broken-on sale. As crazy as she’d thought it a month ago, she now believed Madame’s prediction. Evan was Mr. Right.

  She stepped inside the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor. Yes, Evan was Mr. Right, but did he feel the same way about her? Last night, when she’d realized she loved him, the urge to tell him had nearly overwhelmed her. But she’d held back, afraid that it was too soon. Afraid that the L word would catapult him into masculine panic and cast a pall over what had so far been magical and perfect.

  But, after thinking about little else all day today, she’d decided to tell him, and what could be a more perfect time than during their romantic getaway to San Francisco? They’d spent the past month telling each other the unvarnished truth, and she didn’t want to start playing games now. She loved him. She wanted him to know. And hopefully, he would tell her he felt the same way. And if he didn’t, well…she’d cross that bridge if she came to it. He cared, she knew he did. It was obvious in everything he said and did. But did his feelings run as deeply as hers? She didn’t know, but with her heart on the line, she needed to find out.

  The elevator door pinged open, and she strode down the corridor to his office, her pulse quickening at the mere thought of seeing him. A happy laugh bubbled in her throat and she gave her arm another quick pinch. Yup-this was real. Real and fabulous.

  Evan’s door was open, and she was halfway across the room before she realized he was on the phone. When she noticed, she paused. “Yes, I understand,” he said into the receiver, his eyebrows bunched into a frown. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Just then he looked up. His frown disappeared and their gazes locked. Something warm and intimate passed between them, and Lacey’s insides turned to syrup, as they seemed to every time he looked at her. With his gaze steady on hers, he ended his call, then rose and walked toward her. He didn’t stop when he reached her. Instead he just lifted her up, then kept walking, his eyes burning with intensity, not halting until she was pressed against the wall.

  His mouth descended on hers in a hot, hungry, demanding kiss that dragged a groan of want from her. She vaguely heard him push the door shut. But then all thought drained from her mind when he pressed his erection against her.

  “I missed you,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “So that makes two of us.”

  “That makes two of us,” she agreed. “Show me.” Her words ending on a groan when his hands plunged beneath her shirt and found her nipples. “Show me how much you missed me.”

  And suddenly his hands, his mouth, were everywhere. As if he didn’t just want her, but craved her and couldn’t have her fast enough. Which was fine by her since she felt as if she’d explode if she didn’t feel his skin against hers.

  Impatient fingers yanked at buttons while lips nipped and tongues tasted. With clothing hastily removed or simply shoved aside, he rolled on protection, then lifted her, impaling her on his erection. Lacey wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and held on, absorbing every hard, fast thrust. Her orgasm screamed through her, mindless throbs of pleasure that tore a cry from her throat. He thrust a final time, then she felt him shudder against her.

  Feeling deliciously limp, Lacey’s legs slid down. Planting her feet and locking her knees, she leaned against the wall. “Wow,” she managed between ragged breaths. “I guess you did miss me.”

  He cradled her face between his hands and gazed at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. “I did.” Something flickered in his eyes. “We need to talk.”

  Uh-oh. Her postcoital euphoria evaporated. In her experience, nothing good ever followed “we need to talk.” Especially when those words were said in such a serious voice. And accompanied by such a serious expression.

  “Bad day?” she asked, hoping that whatever was wrong was merely business related, but the way he was looking at her gave her the sinking feeling it was more than that.

  “Bad day,” he agreed in a tired voice.

  She watched him adjust his clothing while she scooped up her pants and underwear from the floor and slipped them on. When they were both put back together, he said, “When you arrived, that call I was on, it was from Greg Mathers, my boss.”

  The wave of relief that swamped Lacey loosened her knees and she rested her shoulders against the wall. Clearly whatever was wrong was business related. Nothing to do with them.

  “What did he say?”

  “There’s something he’s insisted I take care of. Immediately.”

  Realization dawned. “I see. So we have to postpone leaving for San Francisco?”

  “This has nothing to do with our trip to San Francisco, Lacey. It has to do with you. You and Constant Cravings.” He waved a hand toward his desk. “Would you like to sit down?”

  Her instincts immediately went on red alert, at both his words and his suddenly businesslike demeanor and tone. “No, thanks, I prefer to stand.”

  He nodded, then drew what appeared to be a bracing breath. “Greg made a visit to Fairfax last week, to evaluate the retail and office spaces. We’ve since had several meetings, and after careful consideration, it’s been decided that Fairfax won’t be offering you a lease renewal after Constant Cravings’ lease expires three months from now.”

  For several long seconds she could only stare at him in shock. Then she said, slowly, in a voice that sounded as if it came from far away, “You’re evicting me?”

  “No, we’re simply not offering you another lease.”

  A plethora of feelings bombarded her, all fighting for attention-disbelief, confusion, hurt, anger-but anger was the one that broke through first. Fighting to keep her voice calm, she asked, “Can you please explain why?”

  “After his site visit, Greg doesn’t feel the store is a good match for the complex.”

  “A good match?” She pushed off the wall and clenched her h
ands. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means he doesn’t like the image you’ve projected with your sexy window displays and product names.”

  “So he’s evicting me?”

  “Not offering you a new lease is not the same as evicting you.” He dragged a hand through his hair, an impatient gesture matched by his tone and the flicker in his eyes. “This has been an issue since you came here, Lacey.”

  “Not for me. But obviously for you and Greg Mathers. He has no grounds not to offer me another lease.”

  “He doesn’t need any. And even if he did, as far as he’s concerned, the sexy nature of your window displays violates your lease agreement.”

  “Those window displays have generated a lot of income,” she fumed.

  “No one is arguing that. But the bottom line is he wants something in that space that is more in keeping with the image he and the investors want Fairfax to project.”

  She stared at him, frozen with an incomprehensible mixture of disbelief, anger, and numbness. “So that’s it? All my hard work, all my dreams, all my time and energy dedicated to making my store something special, something different, is all gone?” She huffed out a short, bitter breath, then narrowed her eyes. “You seem very calm. I take it you agree with this decision?”

  He said nothing for several long seconds, during which time Lacey’s heart pounded, each beat feeling as if it broke off another piece. Finally he said, “I can’t deny that I see Greg’s point. I tried to tell you, many times, to tone it down, yet you refused to listen. But I did try to talk him out of this.”

  Anger exploded in her. “Well, that was damn big of you.”

  It was clear he was getting angry, too. “Listen, I can’t deny that I think Constant Cravings would fare better in a different location.”

  She felt as if he’d shot her. “I see. And you obviously told Greg that. Thanks for the support.”

  “I supported you-”

  “Sure as hell doesn’t seem like it, seeing as how I’ve been evicted.”

  His eyes flashed. “For the last time, you weren’t evicted.”

  “Right. I just won’t have a store three months from now. Well, consider your job done. Your boss wanted you to tell me and you have.” She reached down and grabbed her purse, which had slid to the floor when he’d carried her to the wall. “Nice timing, by the way, getting in a last quickie before imparting your news.”

  His face darkened, and he reached her in two steps, then grasped her shoulders. “That had nothing to do with it.”

  She jerked away from him and retreated several paces. “Of course not. The sex was personal. What you told me was just business.”

  Relief relaxed his tense expression. “Exactly.”

  He moved toward her, but she backed up and held out her hand to stop him. “Don’t touch me. The last time you touched me was just that-the last time.”

  He halted as if he’d hit a wall, then dragged his hands down his face. “Lacey, I understand you’re upset-”

  “Upset is an understatement.”

  “I can see that. But we have the entire weekend to discuss this.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. Your boss wants me out, you agree with him and you’ve given me the boot-without so much as the courtesy to talk about the situation with me. Even if there was nothing more than business between us, that would ‘upset’ me. Given our personal relationship, it not only upsets me, it really hurts.” Her voice quavered on the last word and she pressed her lips together, hard, fighting to hold back the tidal wave of emotion bearing down on her.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You must know that.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t. My first impression of you was that you were one of the soulless clones who only thought about business. I wish I’d listened to that first impression. As for this weekend? Not going to happen. We’re through.”

  “Lacey…” He raked his hands through his hair. “You don’t mean that. You can’t just walk away like this.”

  She raised her chin and looked into his eyes. “I mean it. And, yes, I can just walk away.”

  Turning on her heel, she strode to the door, opened it, then left without a backward glance.

  She forced herself to concentrate on her anger, on the deep sense of betrayal she felt, until she made it home. But the instant her apartment door was closed and locked behind her, a wrenching sob broke free. She sank to the floor and listened to her heart shatter.

  10

  EVAN SPENT THE WEEK IN San Francisco trying to convince himself that the gut-wrenching sense of loss clenching his insides was relief-or bad seafood-but by the time Friday rolled around he couldn’t lie to himself any longer.

  He’d done his job, followed the rules. And lost Lacey.

  Lacey, who made him laugh. Who could turn him on with a mere look. Who could talk about any topic under the sun. Who could make the most mundane activity interesting and fun. Who appealed to both his body and mind in a way no other woman ever had. Whose wicked sense of fun and “stop and smell the roses” personality had prodded him to take a good, long look at himself and at the way he was living his life. And when he’d done so, he hadn’t particularly liked what he’d seen.

  While he didn’t think he’d turned into one of the soulless clones she’d described, he’d absolutely been headed in that direction. Thanks to her, he’d reversed that trend. And he had never been as happy as during the month they’d been together. She was the first woman he’d known in a very long time whom he enjoyed as much out of bed as in bed. He’d thought he’d been in love a couple of times, but what he’d felt for those other women paled to insignificance when compared to the feelings Lacey inspired.

  He’d known he was a goner the first time he’d seen her with Sasha. Watching a laughing, carefree Lacey splash in the surf with his zany dog, getting covered with salt water and sand, it had hit him like a sucker punch to the heart. He loved her. Loved her sense of fun, her lively personality, her intelligence. The way she cared for her store and customers. If he had to describe her in one word, it would be vivid. She made everything around her more colorful, more alive. Including him.

  He’d debated whether or not to confess he loved her, not wanting to scare her off given the short amount of time they’d dated. He’d finally decided to tell her during their weekend in San Francisco. But then Greg had called, and all hell had broken loose.

  He couldn’t deny that on some level he agreed with Greg. Constant Cravings, with its sensual window displays and products, definitely bucked the image of the other stores in the Fairfax complex, a fact that had been a bone of contention between him and Lacey from the moment she’d opened her doors.

  But he also didn’t like Greg’s assessment and subsequent decision. When his boss had initially told him he wanted Constant Cravings out of Fairfax, Evan had tried to dissuade him, presenting him with facts and figures to prove the store was performing well. He’d also promised to talk to Lacey about toning down the displays, figuring that if she knew her lease renewal was at risk, she’d finally listen.

  But Greg didn’t want any part of it. Bottom line for Greg was that his nephew wanted to open a Java Heaven-a coffee franchise quickly catching up to Starbucks in terms of popularity-in Fairfax. When Evan had protested that the complex was large enough to support two coffee places, Greg had flatly refused to listen. He simply didn’t want the competition Lacey’s shop would have offered. So Evan had been given no choice but to tell her.

  And that had been that.

  And now he felt as if there was a hollow space in his chest where his heart used to beat.

  Over the past week he’d picked up the phone dozens of times to call her, but had resisted. He wanted to talk to her, but decided it was best to do so face-to-face. The fact that she hadn’t called him didn’t bode well, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He intended to go to Constant Cravings tomorrow and camp out on the doorstep if necessary until she’d talk to him.

  Weary beyo
nd belief, he pulled his car into his dark driveway, then entered his house. Leaving his laptop and briefcase in the foyer, he headed toward the kitchen. After twisting the top off a Heineken, he walked into the den. He’d just plopped into his favorite chair when the phone rang. His heart jumped with hope that it might be Lacey, but a glance at his caller I.D. indicated it was Paul.

  He lifted the receiver. “What’s up?”

  “So what’s the deal with Constant Cravings?”

  His fingers tightened on the receiver. He hadn’t spoken to Paul all week. He hadn’t wanted to talk about Lacey, and he knew his friend would ask about her, as he always did. “What are you talking about?”

  “The fact that it is no more, as if you didn’t know. I go out of town for a couple of days and come back to find my favorite coffee place closed down. Damn, I’m totally addicted to those cookies. So where’d Lacey go? And why didn’t you give me a heads-up?”

  Evan’s every muscle tensed. “What do you mean ‘closed down’?”

  Something in his voice must have clued Paul in because his friend said slowly, “You didn’t know?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  “I drove by my office on my way home from the airport to pick up some papers. Since Constant Cravings is usually open late on Friday nights, I decided to get a coffee. When I got there, the place was dark. No mannequins in the windows. Nothing. Just a note on the door saying that the store was permanently closed at this location.”

  Evan squeezed his eyes shut, then blew out a heavy sigh. “Damn.”

  “How come you didn’t know about this? What the hell is going on?”

  He rubbed at the throbbing in his temple. “We broke up.” He gave Paul an abbreviated version of the previous Friday night’s events.

  “So, she didn’t have to leave for three months, but she packed up and closed shop in less than a week?” Paul whistled through his teeth. “Wow. That is one seriously pissed off woman.”

  Right. And clearly not one who would be receptive to seeing him.