“So what do you intend to do about it?” Paul asked.
“Do?” A humorless sound pushed past his lips. “She’s made it pretty clear she’s done with me.”
“Are you done with her?”
No. And the truth, the vehemence behind that single word in his head had him sitting up. No, damn it, he wasn’t done with her. Would never be done with her. “Not by a long shot.”
Paul’s chuckle drifted through the receiver. “Atta’ boy. You were silent for so long I was worried. You know she’s the best thing that ever happened to you, and that’s not a sentence I’d say to you lightly.”
“I know-on both counts.”
“So…what are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out.”
EXACTLY THREE WEEKS TO THE day after she’d last spoken to Evan, Lacey sat in her apartment, listlessly channel surfing. She’d spent the day as she had all the previous days since closing the store-scouting for a new location to lease so Constant Cravings could rise from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix. Unfortunately, she hadn’t liked most of the places she’d seen. And the ones she had liked charged outrageous rent. Damn it, Fairfax had been perfect. If only-
She sliced off the useless thought, as she did dozens of times each day. There was no point dwelling on what-ifs.
Right. Just as there was no point in dwelling on thoughts of Evan. But no matter how many times she told herself that, it didn’t work. He filled every corner of her mind. Even after three weeks, her heart still felt…gone. How the hell long did it take to forget someone? Why couldn’t the brain and the heart come with a reset button? She didn’t know, but had the sinking fear that she’d never forget him. That her heart would never recover.
Well, she’d found a possible place today, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was acceptable. Barely. She couldn’t afford to remain out of business for months-that would eat up all her savings. She’d go out looking again tomorrow and hope something better turned up. Otherwise she’d have to settle for the one she’d seen today.
In the meantime there was reality TV and the extra cookies from the last party platter she’d made for the grand opening of a new hair salon. She looked down at the hair dryer-shaped cookie she’d dubbed Blow Job and, as happened at least one hundred times every day, an image of Evan rose in her mind, an image so vivid it was as if she could feel him. Taste him. And, right on cue, hot tears pooled in her eyes. Damn it, she needed to bake a batch of cookies in the form of a bright red stop sign-and then do it. Stop thinking about him. If only that were possible.
Her doorbell rang, indicating her Chinese food had arrived. She glanced down at herself and sighed. Hopefully she wouldn’t scare off the poor delivery guy. She was wearing the black satin robe with the pink hearts she’d loaned Evan from her mannequin. Probably it would be better if she burned the damn garment. Certainly it would be smarter for her not to wear it, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Paired with stand-on-end hair and no makeup, she looked like she should have crime-scene tape wrapped around her.
After grabbing some money from her wallet, she schlumped to the door and opened it. And stared. At Evan. At least she thought it was Evan. She blinked twice, and he was still there, so it had to be him and not some mirage born of her lovesick imagination.
He wore one of his perfect suits with a perfect shirt and perfect tie. His hair was perfectly smoothed and he held a perfectly beautiful single pale pink peony. He looked…perfect.
“Hi,” he said.
Her heart seemed to stall in her chest. She opened her mouth, meaning to say hello, but then she noticed the bag he held in his other hand. A bag bearing the name of her takeout place. “You’re not the Chinese food guy.”
“True. He arrived at the same time I did. I offered to deliver your meal.” He held out the bag. “Here you go.”
“Uh, thanks.”
His gaze drifted over her robe and a muscle tensed in his jaw. Damn it, she’d fantasized countless times of this exact scenario-him coming to her door-but in her version she was always wearing a killer dress and sporting glossy curls. And of all the things to have him catch her wearing! Ack! This damn robe made it appear as if she’d been moping around pining for him. Which she had, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked.
“A bad time for what?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I thought we said everything that needed saying.”
“I thought of a couple of more things.” His frowning gaze shifted to look over her shoulder into her apartment and his jaw tightened. “Is someone with you?”
For a split second she was tempted to lie and say yes, but damn it, as much as it galled her to admit it, she wanted to hear what he had to say. “I’m alone.”
His gaze shifted back to hers. “Me, too.” Holding out the flower he said, “I hope they’re still your favorite.”
To her chagrin, her throat slammed shut, so she merely nodded. Reaching out, she took the fragrant bloom. Her fingers brushed his and heat shot up her arm. Just that whisper of a touch had felt so good. She cleared her throat. “C’mon in.”
He followed her into the kitchen and remained silent while she set the food bag on the counter, then put the flower in a bud vase, keeping her back to him while she attempted to regain her composure. When she finished, she turned to face him and leaned her hips against the counter.
He stood about eight feet away, regarding her with a thoughtful expression. “How have you been, Lacey?”
Awful. Terrible. Miserable. And it’s all your fault. “Fine. You?”
“Awful. Terrible. Miserable.”
She blinked. Did he read minds? Before she could decide, he continued, “I assume you’re looking for a new location for Constant Cravings.”
She jerked her head in a nod. “Yes.”
“Find anything yet?”
“I have a possibility. Have you rented my space at Fairfax?”
“It’s been leased, yes. To a Java Heaven. Managed by Greg Mathers’s nephew.”
Realization dawned and a spurt of fresh anger rushed through her. “I see. I bet that’s not a coincidence.”
“No, it’s not.”
“In that case, I’m glad I’m not there any longer.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Yes, you made it very plain you were glad I wasn’t there any longer. Is that all you have to say? Because my dinner is getting cold.”
He shook his head. “When I said ‘that makes two of us’ I meant that I’m glad I’m not there any longer.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I resigned. Gave my two-week notice the Monday after I returned from San Francisco. As of an hour ago, I no longer work for GreenSpace Property Management and I’m no longer the property manager for Fairfax.”
It took her a good ten seconds to find her voice. “I don’t understand. Why would you resign?”
“Because I decided that I didn’t like the way Greg Mathers did business. I didn’t like the way he treated you or the store you worked so hard to build. While he was perfectly within his rights not to renew your lease, I think it sucked that he didn’t. He wanted that space for his nephew and now he has it. I just didn’t want to be a part of it any longer.”
Lacey could scarcely believe her ears. “So you don’t have a job?”
“Oh, no, I have a job. You are looking at the new property manager for Bryant Properties.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I’ve known Bill Bryant for many years and he’s a good man. Has told me a number of times to let him know if I was ever interested in making a change. When I decided to leave GreenSpace, I called him.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“How about congratulations?”
“Congratulations.”
His lips curved upward in a slow smile that stole
her breath. “Thanks.” He walked toward her and reached into his suit jacket. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “For you.”
“What is it?”
“There’s one way to find out.”
Lacey slid her finger beneath the flap and withdrew several sheets of folded paper. She read the first few lines, then looked up at him in amazement.
“This is a lease agreement.”
“It is, and my first official deal in my new job. Bryant owns a building complex similar to Fairfax, but I think you’ll find after I show you the place that it’s a much better fit for Constant Cravings. The stores are more eclectic, and it’s located closer to the city.”
She shook her head. “I can’t afford anything closer to the city.”
“Read the terms. I think you can.”
She looked back down at the papers and continued reading. Stunned, she raised her gaze back to his. “There must be some mistake. I’ve checked out lease space in this general area, and the rents were much higher than this figure.”
“It’s no mistake. That’s one of the perks of being the manager-I can offer incentives.”
“I…I can’t believe you’ve done this. Left your job. Made me this incredible offer. I’m…speechless.”
“Then just listen.” He reached out and gently clasped her shoulders. “Nothing’s been right since you walked out of my office, Lacey. Nothing. I tried to convince myself that what we had was over, that it didn’t matter you were gone, but I couldn’t. Nothing matters more. And what we had…for me, it’s not over. These weeks without you have been hell. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” He studied her through very serious eyes. “I love you, Lacey. I want you back. Madame Karma hit it right on the nose. You’re Ms. Right. You’re The One.”
The dam holding back the tears she’d fought against all day burst, and with a sob, she threw her arms around his neck, as much to touch him as to have something solid to hold on to so she didn’t slither to the ground.
“I lied when I said I was fine,” she sobbed against his neck. “I’ve been completely miserable.”
“I guess I shouldn’t say ‘good,’ but, well, good.”
“I can’t believe you’ve done all this.”
“Believe it. And please, please stop crying. You’re killing me.”
She raised her head and framed his face between her trembling hands. “I love you. So much.”
He yanked her against him and kissed her in that toe-curling way that left her breathless. “Say it again,” he demanded against her lips.
“I love you.”
She felt his smile, then he leaned back. Cupping her face, he brushed at the tears wetting her cheeks. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too.” A profound sense of happiness filled all the spaces that less than half an hour ago had been so depressingly empty.
She pressed herself against him, enjoying the low groan that rumbled in his throat as their bodies met.
His hands skimmed down her back to curve over her buttocks and he pulled her tighter against him. “Listen, now that we’ve made up verbally,” he said, his eyes hot on hers, “I’m thinking we should continue with the time-honored tradition of makeup sex. And then talk about our future.”
She kissed him, then leaned back and smiled. “That makes two of us.”
TOGETHER AGAIN? by Jill Shalvis
1
PRAGMATIC AND PRACTICAL, Chloe Cooper didn’t believe in letting fate have its way. Nope, in her opinion, people made their own destiny, thank you very much.
That knowledge was the driving force behind her entire life, including putting herself through college and running her own accounting firm. Things were good for her, because she’d made them so through sheer will.
Sure, there was the occasional hiccup, like right now, for example. She sat outside, at a table surrounded by the evening’s jovial festivities. The Fairfax building complex was holding a Valentine’s Day celebration. The southern California evening was February mild, warm and lovely. Perfect for the commercialized holiday, if one went for that sort of thing-which Chloe didn’t.
She also didn’t go for palm readers-which explained her discomfort in finding her hand presently being held by Isabelle Girard, a fortune-teller hired to entertain the party goers with their individual fortunes.
Uh-huh. Being her own boss had benefits. It meant she could leave whenever she wanted, which she’d just done. Upon coming out of her office and down into the courtyard, Chloe had tried to sneak past the table, so she could instead head directly for what she’d come outside for in the first place-refreshments. But apparently The Legendary Madame Karma, as she called herself, had eyes in the back of her head.
“Sit,” she’d commanded, pointing a long, bony finger at the chair in front of her table.
Chloe had never done well with confrontation, so she’d sat. One thing about the faux winters here in L.A., she got away with light skirts and sweaters at work. No gloves required, not when the air hovered near seventy-five degrees.
Madame Karma took Chloe’s hand, while Chloe squirmed. She’d chewed her thumbnail to the quick, she hadn’t painted her nails and she’d forgotten to put lotion on her dry skin this morning. She also had several paper cuts, the hazard of her job as an accountant. Not exactly a pampered hand, or a pretty one, and she resisted the urge to shove it beneath the table so it wouldn’t have to bear any closer scrutiny.
“Pay attention,” Madame Karma admonished.
Right. Pay close attention because this was so important. Much more important than, say, heading directly to the coffee shop where she’d planned to buy her goodies.
Madame Karma dipped her head over Chloe’s palm, studying it intensely. “Hmm,” she said ominously.
Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she pressed her tongue firmly against her cheek because here it came, the doom and gloom. “I know. I have a short lifeline, right? Or wait, let me guess. I’m going to have three kids someday?”
“No,” Madame Karma said. “And yes.” She lifted her head, her startlingly red hair blowing around her head in the light evening breeze. From far away came a flash of lightning, a weak one, but Chloe still jumped.
Creepy. “Well, that clears that up, thanks.” Chloe started to stand but Madame Karma didn’t let go of her hand. “Uh…my hand?”
With a fierce frown, the older woman tugged on said appendage until Chloe reluctantly sat once more. “No, you do not have a short lifeline,” Madame Karma clarified, bending again over Chloe’s palm. “And yes, you’re going to have three kids.”
Chloe had been biting her tongue but a snort escaped. Madame Karma’s head snapped up, her brow knitted tight as the breeze turned into a wind. Around them there were a few squeals of surprise from the other party goers, but the fortune-teller only had eyes for Chloe. “You don’t believe?”
“I’m sorry.” Chloe tried a smile. “I’m sure you’re very nice, but-”
“Nice has nothing to do with it. Your destiny is on a very clear path, young woman, and I suggest you take it much more seriously than you have.”
Chloe glanced across the spacious courtyard of the Fairfax complex. Behind the graying clouds, the sun had just gone down for the count, but instead of looking gloomy, the outdoor area was lit with sparkling festive lights. She could easily see through the coffee shop window to the display cases strewn with cookies, cakes and pies, and her stomach growled. “Okay. Yes, you’re right. I’ll take it seriously. Let’s hear it.” Because the sooner she did, the sooner she was out of there.
Madame Karma was quiet a moment, studying Chloe in a way that might have made her feel bad if she hadn’t been on a hell-bent cookie mission. “I have a prediction for you.”
Hopefully that she had cookies in her near future. Lots of cookies. Despite Chloe’s good intentions, her eyes strayed again to Constant Cravings, the coffee shop, which undoubtedly had the best cookies Chloe had ever tasted.
“True love is goin
g to walk into your life,” the fortune-teller said instead. “Tonight.”
Chloe’s eyes snapped back to the woman, and, she couldn’t help it, she burst into laughter.
Madame Karma’s eyes seemed to penetrate her. Again the wind whipped through the courtyard. “You find that funny?”
“I’m sorry.” Chloe swallowed hard. “It’s…well, it’s just silly.”
“What? Love?”
“No.” Chloe shoved back the strands of hair loosened from her ponytail by the wind and shivered. Was the temperature dropping? “It’s the fact that you can tell me, with a straight face, that love is about to walk into my life. I mean, I’m just picturing love walking, that’s all, and…” She let out a small laugh.
Madame Karma straightened her bony shoulders as the wind increased again. A few sequins fell off her colorful costume, drifting through the swirling air around her. “Are you doubting my talents, or mocking your own ability to find love?” she asked, not unkindly.
Um…both? Chloe was nothing if not sensible, and maybe occasionally hard-headed. Okay, a lot hard-headed. But having her feet firmly on the ground at all times guaranteed a bit of both at times.
The thing was, she didn’t believe in love at first sight.
Oh, in theory, it was a nice concept. And she’d certainly gone after that concept in her youth. Hadn’t she kissed a bunch of frogs, just waiting for her prince?
Only he’d never actually appeared.
Or maybe it was that he’d never stuck around.
Not that she needed to share that with Madame Karma, who sat there staring at Chloe as though she were a specimen under a microscope. “Your true love is about to walk into your life,” the woman insisted. “You can’t change your destiny by being in denial.”
“You seriously expect me to believe that some guy is going to walk into this party, seek me out and be the love of my life?”
“I didn’t say anything about seeking you out,” Madame Karma replied. “I’ve been doing this for six decades now. I say only what I absolutely mean, and I mean what I say. In fact, you’ll seek him out.”
Jinxed! Page 10
