Six Times a Charm

by Deanna Chase

  “Do you need to speak with her?” Anna asked meekly. What a time for her to decide to get chatty.

  “No, no. I’m not sure what that’s about, but it’s nothing to worry about.” Again I had lied—how terrible was I?

  “It looks as if everything is in order.” I said, scanning her forms and ignoring the scene outside.

  “Okay,” she mumbled while she continued watching over my shoulder.

  “I’ll call you soon and let you know how things are going. I’ll find you a date in no time. And thanks again for choosing Get a Mate.” The words rushed out as I stood and ushered her to the door. All the while, I swayed my upper body back and forth, blocking Anna’s ringside view.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she strained to look over my shoulder. Let it go, woman. Nothing more to see.

  After she’d exited, I ran back to the window and pulled down the shades. Suppressing a growl, I breathed in deeply. Did Lily have nothing better to do with her time?

  Several hours passed. I sat, tapping my pen on the desk, and watched while the handyman hung the new door. He eased the hinges into alignment, then popped the screws into place.

  “Do you want me to install an extra lock for you, Rylie? It’ll only take a second.”

  “Sure, Joe. Why not? It can’t hurt, right?”

  “Nope. It pays to be safe.”

  He could say that again. I had no idea when the rogue might return looking for Uncle Ernie. The thought of the thug showing up at my parents’ house ran through my mind and I shuddered. My dad kept a baseball bat as his weapon of choice in the hall closet. Tough guy would break the bat over his knee like a used toothpick. Then Dad would want to use his werewolf skills and sink his teeth into the guy’s neck, which Mama never liked. Another reason I didn’t tell my mother. Dad would have shifted and hunted the lowlife down. No, the best thing to do was to let sleeping werewolves lie. Ernie needed to deal with his affairs and leave me out of it.

  “I’m all done here. Both locks work as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me how it came down in the first place? I know a tornado didn’t come through, so don’t give me that excuse.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, I won’t tell.”

  Joe flashed me a sad-eyed look and then turned to grab his tool belt from the floor. He paused, turned to face me again and said, “I was wondering…”

  Uh-oh. I knew what he was about to say. I’d heard the words from his mouth before.

  “I know you said last time you were really swamped with work. I thought I’d ask if things had slowed down any and if possibly you’d like to go out to dinner with me some night?” He fidgeted as he ran his hand through his dark hair. He then shoved his hands in his pants pockets, probably because he didn’t know where else to put them.

  I hated to turn him down, but zero chemistry existed between us. Joe was a handsome guy, but we had nothing in common. He likes wrestling. I don’t. He enjoys skydiving, and no way would I ever try jumping from a plane. The diverse list of our hobbies and likes never intersected. Not once.

  “I’m sorry, Joe, but I already made plans with someone else.” I frowned.

  “Oh. Oh. Well, all right. I’d better get going.”

  My stomach twisted into a knot when I saw the sad look in his eyes. He turned and walked out the door without as much as a glance back. Maybe I needed to find him a date. Then it hit me. I had someone for him. Anna, my newly acquired, shy customer, would be perfect. I made a mental note to work on their match-up. They’d be ideal for each other.

  I locked my new door and headed upstairs to prepare for my evening on the town. So much time had passed since I’d gone on a date, I’d forgotten the dating ritual to-do list. Besides the obvious shower and dress, of course.

  Would we have things to talk about? What if I sounded stupid?

  Jennifer would be more than happy to lend a hand in the picking-out-an-outfit department. She didn’t know I had a date with sexy-new-neighbor-guy yet. If I had told her earlier she would have nagged me about it all day. She would have wanted us to stop what we were doing and spend the day planning the evening—what to wear and say.

  When I entered my apartment, I expected to find Jennifer lounging on the sofa with her bunny slippers propped on the coffee table, but she was nowhere in sight.

  Instead of raiding the refrigerator as I normally would have done, I decided to search the dark caverns of my closet for something to wear. I wanted an outfit that would knock his socks off. Shuffling through the hangers provided zero prospects.

  As I continued poking around in my closet, the sound of voices came to me. I emerged with several blouses, flung them on the bed, then moved to the bedroom door and listened. The mumbled conversation wasn’t distinguishable. I eased out the bedroom door. As I moved down the hall, I recognized one of the voices, and curiosity gnawed at me. Who was Jennifer talking with? I pressed my ear against the door. A man’s laugh vibrated through the wood. I opened the door a crack.

  Jennifer stood next to Jack, engrossed in a heart-to-heart. She touched his arm and fluttered her eyelashes. Crap. My lipstick faded hours ago and, no doubt, I looked like hell. I only prayed he liked the natural look.

  Who was I kidding? My appearance went well beyond the natural look. I opened the door wider and cleared my throat. I had no idea what they were discussing, but I intended to find out. Both stood in the middle of the hall, still laughing.

  Finally, Jennifer stopped, and between snorts, said, “I just told Jack about the time you fell down the stairs and broke your nose. Remember that?” She snorted again.

  Um, yeah, I broke my nose, how could I forget?

  “You were more worried about your Gucci heels than your bloody face.” She turned her head, trying to conceal a giggle.

  Yay. My best friend was trying to help the Cruz curse along. Instead of getting to three dates, I wouldn’t get past the first one.

  Jennifer had adopted that doe-eyed look again. It seemed to come around only when Jack appeared. Good thing she had Todd or I’d have some serious competition. Wait a minute. She was having problems with Todd. Maybe I should worry. No, no. Jennifer was my friend. She wouldn’t do that.

  “Jack was telling me you two have a date tonight.” As usual, she sang the sentence.

  If I knew her, and I think I did, she probably wanted to sing Rylie has a boyfriend.

  I nodded. “Yes, as a matter-of-fact, we do.” I raised my eyebrows, code for shut up.

  “I need to change my clothes and I’ll be ready, if you are?” Jack asked.

  “I’ll be ready.” My stomach tingled and I shuffled my feet with uneasiness.

  “See you in a few.” Jack flashed his bright smile and turned to his apartment door.

  “Oh. My. God.” Jennifer almost knocked me down as she shut the door behind her. “What happened? When did he ask you out?” She grabbed my arm and whirled me around.

  I laughed. “You are such a goofball. He walked into my office and asked me out. That’s it.”

  “That’s it, you say? No. There’s more to it than that, but…whatever. I’m so excited. Are you excited?”

  “I’m thrilled.” I rolled my eyes.

  “What are you going to wear? Where are you going on the date?” She had more questions than a Trivial Pursuit game.

  “Breathe, Jennifer. Calm down.” You’d think she had a date with Jack the way she acted. “I don’t know what I’m wearing. I need your help picking out something. And I think we’ll go to Emilio’s for dinner.”

  “I’m getting something to drink and my bunny slippers and I’ll be right in. Now get in your bedroom and start rummaging through that sorry closet of yours. With your wardrobe, it’ll take us a while to find anything suitable.”

  “It’s not as if I dress like a homeless person. If you don’t simmer down, I’ll need a shot of tequila before I leave the house.”

  “I’m calm. Now go get ready for your date. I’m so excited.” She pushed on m
y back, prodding me down the hallway toward my bedroom.

  By the wistful appearance on Jennifer’s face, I wasn’t sure which one of us seemed more excited about an evening with the delicious Jack Chandler. I took off my work outfit and laid it on the chair next to the bed, then began sorting through my closet as instructed. After a few seconds, Jennifer returned with drink in hand.

  “My God, what are you wearing?” Jennifer stopped in her tracks as soon as she entered my room.

  “My underwear?”

  “No. No. No. Just, no. You’re hurting my eyes.” She screeched.

  “What is your problem? Do you mind if I finish dressing?”

  “You cannot, I repeat, cannot wear those granny drawers out with a man like Jack Chandler.” She frowned in disapproval.

  “What do you mean? What kind of woman do you think I am, anyway? He’s not seeing what’s underneath. Not this soon.”

  “Hey, he may not see them, but you’ll realize they’re there. Do you want the fact you’re wearing bloomers my grandmother would love nagging at your subconscious all night? Do you? I mean, he’ll be sitting there wondering what kind of lace number you’re wearing and you’ll know the answer isn’t lace at all, but in reality is one hundred percent pre-shrunk cotton with a wide waistband.”

  “Well…I guess I hadn’t thought about it.” At that moment, I felt a little self-conscious standing there in my bra and panties.

  “Gosh, Rylie. You of all people should know the rules of dating. Your career depends on it, for pity’s sake. Underwear is like number three on the list. Good thing this is a first date.” She shook her head, exasperated.

  Nope, there was no way I would ask what numbers one and two were. I didn’t want the answers. I knew how Jennifer’s brain worked and, trust me, if you knew her like I did, you wouldn’t want to know, either. Did Jennifer doubt my ability to do my job?

  Jennifer pulled all of my unmentionables from their drawer. Undies flew through the air.

  “What the hell? Are these leg warmers?” She frowned. “Never mind. Does any of your underwear coordinate? Please tell me somewhere in this mess something matches.”

  “Don’t be silly. Yes, of course. What about the pink ones with little bunnies? Right over there. See them?” I pointed to the spot. “You just threw them on the floor.”

  Another glare from Jennifer. “What are you? Four years old? That’s it. Tomorrow we hit Victoria’s Secret.”

  “So I got a package from Lily today.” I pulled a black blouse over my head.

  Jennifer stopped midair with a pair of my panties around her finger.

  “Give me those.” I yanked them from her hand. “Stop worrying about what I’m wearing underneath the outfit. Get your mind out of the gutter and help me with the outer layer. It’s what’s on the outside that counts.”

  She ignored my comment and said, “She sent you another package? What the hell is wrong with her? She is certifiable. You need to do something before the situation gets any more out of hand.”

  “I try to curtail my agitation with her, really I do. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult. The fact that Lily had the nerve to send me something like that astonishes me.”

  Jennifer tossed multiple pairs of jeans onto the bed, forming a crumpled mountain. It actually looked more like a volcano ready to erupt at any second, sending shirts, socks, bras, and no telling what else, flying through the air.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what the package contained. A dead cat? It’s a good thing you don’t have a pet, or she’d boil it in a pot.”

  “It was a silver bullet. By the appearance of the package, I think she spent a lot of time wrapping the thing in pretty pink tissue paper like it was a real gift.”

  “How thoughtful of her. So silver is bad for you, right?”

  “Yeah. I think she sent it to imply she’d shoot me with it.”

  “You need to call the police. At the very least, you should talk to her about her actions. I mean, attacking you is not cool, and sending you things in the mail is a federal offense. What she made, basically, was a death threat. Call her on the phone, though. Don’t talk in person.”

  “To be honest, I’m not looking forward to having another conversation with her. I think I’ll continue to ignore her. She’ll get sick of the shenanigans before long, right?”

  Her mouth dropped in a gape, then she asked, “You call threatening letters, trying to eat your head off and sending you silver bullets ‘shenanigans’?”

  “Oh, she just wants to frighten me. That’s her modus operandi. She wants people to think she’s a big bad scary wolf. I still don’t think Lily could hurt a fly. All right, perhaps a fly, but you know what I mean. I don’t think she wants physically to hurt me. Now my business, that’s another story.”

  “What did you do with the bullet?” she asked with a look of horror on her face.

  “I threw it away, what else?” I wiggled into a pair of jeans and grunted as I fastened the button. Too much red meat made them a little snug. Time for a diet.

  “You’d better watch your back tonight. She might follow you. Maybe you should have kept the silver bullet and used the thing on her ass.”

  “Lily is not worth jail time.”

  “You’d better hurry. He only lives next door. Not a long commute to pick you up. Go put on your face before you scare him. And do try your best to forget about the awful underwear you’re wearing.”

  “Funny.” I smirked.

  I did need to hurry. Although I’d saved a few minutes by wearing jeans, which meant I didn’t have to shave my legs. Again. I hated doing it twice in one day. By five every day, I sprouted some serious manly hair.

  I swiped one last coat of gloss across my lips and headed out to the living room just in time. A knock came at the door and my stomach did a somersault. I’d been so busy getting ready that I’d forgotten my nerves for a bit. I took a deep breath, let it out and opened the door.

  Jack let out a long, low whistle and said, “Wow, you look fantastic.”

  The compliment made me blush. I knew because I felt the heat in my cheeks.

  “Are you ready for a fabulous evening?”

  “Wow, a fabulous evening? Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I am.” I grabbed my purse and glanced back at Jennifer. She beamed with pride.

  As I shut the door, she sang out, “Have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Curse her, I thought about those damn granny panties.

  Jack glanced back at the closing door and chuckled. At least he seemed to have a sense of humor. That was another check in the pros column for him. Zero checks in the cons.

  Jack’s elusive scent embraced me as we descended the stairs. As the reality that I was on a date with a human struck me, I wondered what I’d gotten myself into this time. Maybe I should never have agreed to go out with him. Nothing would come of us, anyway.

  No, I mentally shook off the thought. I needed to relax and have a good time. One date wouldn’t hurt.

  Jack was ever so chivalrous and held the door open for me as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. The muggy evening air hit my face like a blast from a spray water bottle. Steamy and sultry—sounded sexier when I described it that way, versus the truth. The reality was it was just plain hot. Melt-the-makeup-right-off-of-my-face hot. I hoped the sweat covering my face gave me a glistening sheen instead of just looking plain gross.

  Sliding into Jack’s Lexus, I ignored the werewolves peeking out at me as they hid behind a Dumpster in the alley. I couldn’t believe werewolves stalked the French Quarter at that time of the evening. They could have easily been seen. How careless of them. And what the hell did they want, anyway?

  Chapter 5

  How to Date a Werewolf Rule # 5:

  Kindly don’t point out a female werewolf’s five-o-clock shadow.

  My preferred hangout to relax and munch on the best food in town is a little Mexican restaurant a couple of blocks from my apartment. When Jack asked me if I had a favor
ite place, Emilio’s came to mind right away. It’s a perfect setting for a casual first date. Since it was unlikely I would get another date with Jack, the need to make the most of my time with him seemed important. Damn, the nasty curse.

  “Hola, Rylie. Cómo estás?” Emilio greeted us with a smile on his round face.

  “I’m fantastic, Emilio. How are you? How’s your wife?”

  “She’s due any day now. We’re really excited.”

  “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see the baby. Tell her I’ll stop by and visit soon.”

  Emilio beamed with pride as he picked up menus from the nearby stack and motioned for us to follow him. “I will.”

  “You must come here often.” Jack guided me by placing his hand on the small of my back.

  I nodded. “This restaurant is one of my favorite places in the city.” I sniffed the air when we walked through. I couldn’t help myself with the smell of tacos whirling about.

  Emilio positioned us at my favorite booth nestled in the back of the restaurant. The spot had a fabulous view of street activity from the side windows. I liked people watching, and Emilio’s provided me with the perfect place to do just that. Except on this occasion, there was only one person I wanted to keep my gaze on, and his name was Jack.

  The crowded restaurant buzzed with activity. Glasses clanked noisily, and servers glided around the room with trays full of steaming food. My nose sniffed as if on overload. The scent of steak wafted from the kitchen.

  People milled around on the sidewalk. I’d hoped it wouldn’t be so jam-packed, but that was out of the question in a place like New Orleans. Everyone talked, laughed, and seemed to be enjoying the fall evening, including me. Emilio slipped us our menus and headed back to greet the folks who had trickled in behind us.

  Jack slid into the booth across from me, then reached out and squeezed my hand. “I can see why you come here often. This place is perfect.” He released my hand. It tingled from his touch.

  “You think? I hope you like Mexican fare. I just love the atmosphere and, of course, the food.” I glanced at him from beneath my lashes. That was my attempt at seduction. Pathetic attempt, actually.