Lucky 13

by Cat Gardiner

  After climbing into bed and turning off the radio and lamp beside them, Charlie wrapped his arm around her. She slid closer to him snuggled against his hard chest, settling atop his left nipple.

  In the darkness he asked, “How about my best man? He’s still single and sounds very much like Lizzy in that regard. Scars, fears, serial dating with irrational faultfinding.”

  “Didn’t you say he’s distant and unsociable during the holidays? I don’t think someone like him is suited for Lizzy because she’s especially upbeat and lighthearted at this time of the year.”

  “I wish you had a chance to meet him before we got engaged. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to connect. He’s not always so taciturn, just this time of year.”

  “Well things happened so fast between you and me. I’ve kind of kept you busy traveling to Milan and Paris. I’m sure Fitzwilliam understands our not being able to meet.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Fitzwilliam? Like I said, he is not always rude, and he understands our not meeting up with him, but calling him ‘Fitzwilliam’ might piss him off. It’s hard for you and me to understand his bah-humbug attitude, since the holidays are so special to us, but for Will they have a completely different meaning. His parents died the week before Christmas, so he pretty much goes through December on autopilot, drinking a bit too much and working a bit too hard.”

  “Oh, how terrible. You never said anything.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty heart wrenching. He gets somewhat obsessed this time of the year. After all these years, I’ve just accepted his need to be disconnecting from his close friends until after the New Year. It’s cool. I know he’ll be at the wedding rehearsal. He’s a great guy, and I wouldn’t have any other friend as my best man.

  “I suppose Lizzy will meet him at the rehearsal then.” Jane sat up as though a light bulb went off in her head. “Let’s not wait till then! Let’s invite them for dinner before the twenty-ninth. Let’s set them up on a blind date. Maybe they’ll hit it off.”

  “And maybe they won’t and then our wedding will be a nightmare with the Maid of Honor and the Best Man hating one another.”

  “No, Lizzy would never let that happen and maybe – just maybe – she’s exactly what he needs to get him through his difficult time.” She settled back down resuming her position in her lover’s arms.

  He rolled over on top of her and pinned her arms above her head. “You are my sweet Janie, always thinking of others.” He kissed her, tasting the peanut butter from within her mouth. “You didn’t brush your teeth before bed, my love.”

  “I thought you liked Belgian chocolate.”

  With his left arm, he reached over to the nightstand, removed the cover from the assortment box, and grabbed the first piece of chocolate his fingers could wrap around. “I do love it!”

  Seconds later, chocolate was everywhere and lips and tongues were busy making sure that none got on the outrageously expensive sheets.

  Charlotte’s Blog Post Here

  Chapter Four – Tuesday, December 3

  22 Days Until Christmas

  Standing in the doorframe, Elizabeth’s executive assistant, Amanda, clung to the wood trim dreamily declaring, “Miss Bennet, Mr. Fitzwilliam from the FD Burn Foundation is here to see you.”

  Elizabeth was ready for her big meeting, well, maybe not exactly as ready as she would have liked. She was suffering with a wicked headache from an excess of chardonnay the night before after the personal ad debacle. “Thanks Amanda. Can you please put him in the small conference room and make sure you remember to offer him a cup of coffee or a soda? Whatever he wants or needs, make sure you ask. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Will do. I need to take a peek at his left hand, anyway.”

  Elizabeth chuckled as she pulled the mirror from her purse, refreshed her lip balm and smoothed her hair. Her chignon was high and tight and she looked professional, in a few words – attractive but purposefully plain. Her dark rimmed eyeglasses concealed the fire of excitement in her green eyes, which conveyed her confidence and determination to impress, not with herself, but with her creativity and ideas.

  Approaching the glass-walled conference room, she noticed how her client looked different than she remembered from their meeting two years earlier at one of the Foundation’s press events. His hair was shorter and he looked more clean-cut. The chairman of the Foundation had not been as stylishly put together as he was now. She particularly noted his well-tailored navy Armani suit and festive red tie. Her own navy, one-buttoned Armani pantsuit matched his perfectly.

  Rick sat relaxed, studying the covered easel and trying to guess what was concealed underneath the white paper. It was a game he secretly liked to play with the Foundation’s advertising agency. Only this time, he didn’t intend to use their idea. With a humored smile, he tapped his pen on the idea-laden pad before him, abruptly stopping when Elizabeth confidently strode into the windowed room overlooking Madison Avenue.

  He quickly rose, assessing the woman who would become his partner in his personal scheme as well as the creative genius necessary to direct its execution for the benefit of the Foundation – and his cousin. He also noticed the coincidence of her attire but, though the fine suit looked beautiful on her trim figure, the flattering effect of her wardrobe was ostensibly lost on the unassuming woman presenting herself before him.

  Rick greeted her coming around the table, holding out his hand to shake. “Miss Bennet, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Reynolds told me a lot about you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Fitzwilliam. The pleasure is mine.”

  Shaking his hand, she lightly chuckled, the pleasant sound of which intrigued him.

  She made a small joke to set an immediate tone of welcome and friendliness, “I’m almost afraid of what he has told you. My boss tends to get a bit carried away when he talks of my achievements at BADCo. Whatever he told you about the Big Apple Circus ad campaign, don’t believe him. I swear my market research never involved auditioning for the trapeze act.”

  “Please, call me Rick. A trapeze, you say? That sounds interesting. I promise you, Reynolds only told me the honest to goodness truth.” He winked to ease her mind.

  “Ah well, how do you know what he told you was the truth? And it’s Liz, please.”

  He grinned. Already he liked this woman and knew she was exactly what this campaign needed. Further, he thought there was something strangely familiar about her. Was it her walk or was it her voice? Maybe it was her confidence and warm, teasing manner. Her demeanor made him, as a representative of the Foundation, want to strengthen the business relationship it had with BADCo. Maybe he had met her previously at a Foundation function.

  Rick paused. “I can’t help but to ask, but have we met before?”

  For a split second she thought, Oh shoot – he saw my photograph and dating profile on New York Metro. As of two hours ago, it was still there. “We have met before. It was forever ago at a press junket with Gotham magazine. If I remember correctly, they were interviewing Catherine de Bourgh, and I showed up with one of BADCo’s photographers to get a few candids of her for the 2011 marketing campaign.”

  He nodded, not quite remembering but was sure that wasn’t why she looked so familiar. “Right, of course.”

  Carefully placing her organized checklist on the table before her, Elizabeth addressed the gentleman in her ‘all business-professional’ tone, “Well, shall we begin? Please have a seat. Did Amanda offer you coffee?”

  “Yes, she’s great. Thank you.”

  “She’s my right hand around here, an invaluable member of our team.”

  She walked to the easel and pulled back the blank, white cover concealing her storyboards. “Mr. Fitzwilliam … Rick, I believe I have created a fabulous fundraising campaign designed for the FD Burn Foundation. I am confident you are going to love the direction, and based on our market research and the response from our test audiences, we expect to surpass last year’s donations by a significant margin.
It’s my belief that in reaching out to a national market, bringing together facts, hearts and results, we will stimulate hope, and especially at the holiday season, that’s what people need to believe in and hold on to.”

  He could see by all the storyboards now propped against the windows that she had put a lot of insight and hard work into her campaign plan. He almost hated to do it but knew he needed to break in at this point.

  “Liz, forgive me for interrupting your presentation. I’m blown over by your enthusiasm and commitment already, so much so that I’m sure you and I will work well together. However, I have a small request to make before you go any further.”

  She felt a bit unsettled. “Yes? Well, whatever the Foundation’s needs, I’m sure BADCo and I can accommodate you.”

  Opening his briefcase, he withdrew an oversized, glossy, colored photographic calendar, carefully sliding it to the edge of the table where she stood watching the slow movement across the cherry wood.

  It was coming at her, and she held her breath until the image halted directly below her clasped hands.

  There staring up at her - inviting her to tear into January, February, March and all the following months was a beautiful, tasty, beefcake male taunting her in the form of a steamy, shirtless, hot firefighter leaning against a fire engine. The calendar was entitled, Hot Stuff Calgary’s Firefighter Calendar 2012.

  Her mouth dropped open before she sucked back the droplet of drool attempting to make its way to the curve of her lip.

  Rick laughed with fervent enthusiasm at her reaction of his surprise presentation. “And THAT is the exact reason I’m pitching this calendar to you! This calendar was number two in the market last year, raising millions for the Calgary Firefighter’s Burn Treatment Center. It’s actually more than a calendar – it kicks off a year-round opportunity for New York City’s Bravest to engage and entice every hot-blooded female, not just in the Tri-State area but nationally as well. Through their generous donations to the FD Burn Foundation, desiring women everywhere will benefit burn victims, and judging from that droplet of saliva at the corner of your mouth, I can see I am spot on in its effect. Money, Liz. Sex sells – and put half a uniform on it … it’ll sell over and over again.”

  Elizabeth wiped her mouth, picked up the calendar and began to flip through each month with slow fascination. She sat herself down on the nearest chair, which seemed to be ready and waiting for her to unconsciously collapse into. Mr. September was too hot to handle this early in the morning, and it had been way too long since she viewed such a perfect male specimen as Mr. October who almost burst her ovaries. Her headache was suddenly gone as she stared at the tattoo above the brave beefcake’s hard pectoral muscle. She licked her bottom lip.

  The ad exec in her, in dawning awareness, began to see the money-generating potential of the six-pack of Mr. November staring back at her when she slowly said, “A New York City Fire Department … beefcake, pin up … calendar. Hmm … interesting.”

  She paused as the wheels turned in her mind. Rick’s idea was brilliant.

  Instant visions of possibilities began to rapid fire into the room, her voice elevating with enthusiasm as each fully formed idea was punctuated with a wag of her index finger. “City-wide tryouts open to the public, ladies night out with the calendar firefighters, launch party, themed gala dinner, mobile phone app, Facebook and Twitter, Valentine’s day kissing booth.”

  Her tone raised a decibel higher when she slammed her hand against her thigh with her final idea. “Sunset dinner cruise around Manhattan on the Bateaux. Fantastic!”

  Rick grinned, nodding in approval with his arms folded across his chest. “Calendar signing at Barnes & Noble, holiday date auction, and firehouse private cooking class. The sky’s the limit with this.”

  “Rick you’re a genius! I know we are a little late to the table with calendar production, but we could do this if we can kick it off within the week. We’ll have to schedule firefighter auditions at once and a photoshoot within days.”

  She slid the pencil and the lined pad before her and began to make a quick list, writing in her abbreviated steno. “All I have to do is alert the press, get the proper media coverage, contact our photographer and the fire department’s media department, secure a location for auditions, print VIP passes and invitations, YouTube Promotional Teaser and arrange for guest judges!”

  With sparkling eyes filled with enthusiasm, she smiled brightly and looked up at Rick standing on the other side of the table. With a pronounced gesture of her hand, she removed her eyeglasses.

  BAM! He recognized her right away. She was The Black Widow from the Reebok Club – the boxing ring – the woman who rendered Darcy speechless.

  His eyes instantly glanced at her left ring finger. He couldn’t help but to grin as his matchmaking wheels began to turn. “Liz, I think we’re going to have a fabulous month. I have just one more request. Will you trust me on this one?”

  “Of course, you’ve blown me away with this idea – You have my utmost faith.”

  “I have one particular engine and ladder company I’d like to sell the idea to first before you open it up to the other firehouses in the city. Their station is called the West End Cave, and I personally know some of the firefighters.”

  “Sure, of course.” She picked up the calendar again, and turning page after page dreamily said, “Whatever you want, Rick. You have my full attention and complete trust. Oh, yeah … my full attention.”

  She stared at Mr. November’s tight six-pack, thinking, Thirteen men … hmm … what could possibly go wrong with thirteen men who look like this? This could be a lucky month, after all.

  Rick beamed. “Great! What do you say about joining me tomorrow night for a few drinks down at Rockefeller Center for the tree lighting? Strictly business, of course, but I’d like to introduce you to the firefighter who inadvertently inspired this crazy idea.”

  “I’m there; just tell me what time and where. I’ll bring BADCo’s photographer, Charlotte Lucas, and the four of us can brainstorm about the logistics. She’s extremely creative and with her talent, I just know, the FD Burn Foundation’s Firefighter Calendar will be number one in the market!”

  “Well, it’s a date then. The tree lights at 9:00, how about we meet in the Promenade at teusche Chocolates at five minutes to and we’ll go from there.”

  Elizabeth beamed with excitement. “It’s a date!”

  Liz’s Blog Post Here

  Chapter Five - Wednesday, December 4

  21 Days Until Christmas

  The taxi pulled up across the street from Saks Fifth Avenue just as the countdown display for the Holiday Light Show reached 0:00 on the outside of the massive department store. Manheim Steamroller’s “Carol of the Bells” filled the cold winter air as the crowds watched the windows of the building open and close to the music. The condensation of warm breath rose into the freezing cold air like the steam rising from the sewer manholes on Fifth Avenue. Streaming red ribbons of light danced and swirled on the upper floors of the store to the music.

  Charlotte and Elizabeth managed to arrive early for their meeting with Rick and the firefighter he planned to bring with him. Traffic heading downtown had been horrific, especially as they neared Rockefeller Center. Horse drawn carriages carrying snuggling lovers and obsessed sightseers, fought the yellow taxis and groups of holiday revelers, inching their way toward the crowds congregating at Rockefeller Center. Overseeing it all, TV remote vans with huge lights lined the curbs while New York’s formidable mounted police officers stayed keenly observant, as a thousand heads arched upward to view the 3D light spectacle before them.

  As Charlotte settled the fare with the cab driver, Elizabeth stepped out of the taxi with a sense of wonderment and awe. The music, the holiday spirit, the glittering lights and golden-white, twinkling, Christmas Angels in the Promenade’s Channel Gardens filled her with glee. She stopped at the curb, unmoving and inhaled the brisk air and the spirit of the holiday season all around he
r. It was magical. This was the time of year in the city she loved the most.

  Grabbing her camera bag off the seat, Charlotte exited the cab, catching up and nudging Elizabeth from behind. “Go, Lizzy.”

  “Sorry. Everything is just so beautiful.”

  The cold wind blew fiercely through the concrete and glass canyon, and Elizabeth burrowed into her thick wool coat, but the exposed peep-toes of her black Manolo Blahniks instantly became chilled after the warm cab ride. She looked at her watch. “Hey, we have fifteen minutes before the lighting and meeting Rick. Let’s browse in the chocolate shop.”

  Oblivious to the crowds pushing past, Elizabeth paused a moment before the first lit Christmas Angel blowing its horn at the entrance to the Promenade. At the far end from where they stood, the golden figure of Prometheus floated above Rockefeller Plaza’s ice skating rink. Colorful lights surrounded the yet unlit tree, adding to the magical feeling. The women didn’t even notice the NBC newscasters broadcasting the event, but they easily heard Kelly Clarkson performing the title song of her new album, “Wrapped in Red.”

  “Wish me luck, Char. I’m so excited about this meeting and have a really good feeling about this campaign.” She looked up at the angel beside them. “And I have a really good feeling about this Christmas.”

  Charlotte pinched her best friend’s chilled rosy cheek. “Bubele, you’re gonna be great.”

  “Bubele?”

  Charlotte smiled. She wasn’t about to tell her friend how she came to learn that cute, new word. Well, at least not yet. That was next week’s dating adventure.

  Battling through the crowd congregated in the Promenade, Elizabeth pulled Charlotte’s arm, dragging her into the elegant, festive chocolate shop. Ribboned packages filled with truffles piled beneath miniature Christmas trees lay enticingly surrounded by trays of colorfully decorated sweets. Foiled-wrapped Santa figurines stood tall amidst golden, silk robed angels presenting champagne truffles to the chocoholics who ventured into the pristine shop.