A Date With Fortune

by Susan Crosby

  “I know you came to Red Rock because of a man.”

  “In a way. I was your age and had been working out of Dallas as a flight attendant. I loved my job. I hadn’t been doing it long enough to be jaded, I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “I met Ethan on a flight from Boston to Dallas, and was smitten, as smitten as you were with Michael that first day.” She smiled sympathetically.

  “This is about you, Auntie.”

  “Don’t call me that. It makes me feel old,” she said, an ongoing joke between them. “Anyway, the flight was delayed because of weather, and the passengers weren’t allowed to deplane. He was in first class. In those days there weren’t as many people seated there because the frequent-flyer program hadn’t been created. Ethan was the only first-class passenger, so we ended up talking a lot.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “An everyday Greek god. Tall, fit, curly dark hair, strong features, but with a kind soul. And a wedding ring. We said goodbye at the end of the trip, didn’t exchange phone numbers. I thought that was the end of it. But a couple of weeks later, he called. We met for dinner. I knew I shouldn’t go, but I couldn’t help myself.”

  Felicity understood that irrational pull, the thing that made you do something you knew you shouldn’t. She was married now because of it.

  “His wife was bedridden, had been for years, a quadriplegic from a sports accident the fifth year they were married. They had two young sons. He took good care of her, Felicity. He never once considered abandoning her. But she’d seen something different in him after we met and questioned him about it. When he admitted to being attracted, she encouraged him to contact me, that she understood he had needs.”

  “Wow, there’s an understanding and brave woman.”

  “She trusted his love, knew he would stay. He said no. So she got someone to track me down, ran a full background check and decided she approved. Ethan and I didn’t sleep together. We met for dinner, we danced, we talked, we held each other. Oh, I was so in love with him. So desperately in love. I would’ve done anything for him. He never asked. But then as these thing happen, I finally realized I couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted a life with him, normalcy, and he could never give that to me. He didn’t try to stop me, said he didn’t have the right to ask.”

  Liz took a sip of her tea, her eyes distant but not sad. “I didn’t see him for a year, then I saw his wife’s obituary in the newspaper. I wanted to run to him, but I waited instead. His boys were twelve and ten by then. They needed Ethan more than ever. It took four months for him to come to me. I welcomed him, made love with him and loved him until the day he told me he was getting married, six months later.”

  Felicity gasped. “What a jerk! How could he do that to you after all you’d gone through for him?”

  “Shh. I know it sounds horrible, and it was at the time. But, sweetheart, I couldn’t and don’t blame him. I allowed it to happen. I was the one in love, not him. He needed me. I came into his life at the exact moment he needed someone to lean on, and I provided that. But he never loved me, never said the words, never saw me as a potential mother to his sons. To him I was a flighty flight attendant who’d had an affair with someone I’d met on a plane. I don’t think he trusted that I wasn’t doing that—or worse—on a regular basis.”

  “He knew you all those years and he didn’t trust you?”

  “Apparently. Anyway, he was a very wealthy man, and he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t cause complications with his new bride, so he offered to buy me a house anywhere I wanted.”

  “You took him up on that?” Felicity pressed a hand to her chest.

  “No.” Liz smiled. “Got you for a minute, though, didn’t I?”

  “Well, it didn’t sound like the Liz I know and love.”

  “I sent him on his way, but the seed had been planted about living somewhere else. I’d saved quite a bit of money, but it wasn’t enough to retire so early, then I got an inheritance from my parents’ estate. Your father did, too, remember?”

  “Yes. It helped pay for college tuitions and weddings.”

  “Well, mine bought me this house in this pretty little town and a perfectly adequate annuity.”

  “Why have I been thinking he was the love of your life?”

  “You got that romantic notion in your head, and I never told you otherwise. I met other men, dated a lot, but never fell in love again.”

  “Men fell in love with you. I met a couple of them.”

  “Sometimes it takes only one experience to ruin you for life. All in all, I’ve been happy being independent.”

  Felicity studied her aunt. Was she happy? It had to be possible to get past an experience like she had with Ethan. Men weren’t all alike. But who was she, Felicity Thomas, neophyte at love, to question her aunt? And maybe Liz’s memory wasn’t perfect. Maybe she hadn’t been willing to bend for Ethan, and he got tired of waiting.

  Felicity had gotten into an untenable position herself. Maybe she’d been too much of a mule. There were two sides to every story, after all.

  “You know, Auntie, you could’ve just told me from the beginning that you inherited the money.”

  “There was no lesson in that, though, was there?”

  Felicity clenched her hands in her lap, not wanting to hear what came next, but knowing she had to. “Meaning?”

  “Ethan never loved me. I was a convenience, then a detriment. It was good that we broke up.”

  “So, you’re saying it was good that Michael and I broke up?”

  “When did you become so dense?” She sighed. “I don’t know what happened to you and Michael while you were gone, but I know you love each other. Here’s a truth, sweetheart. We can waste time being with someone we’ll never end up with, like I did—or we can waste time fighting being with someone we should end up with, like you are. Don’t waste time.”

  Felicity looked away, feeling as barren as the surrounding trees still waiting for spring. “He doesn’t love me,” she said quietly.

  “Of course he does.”

  “He says he doesn’t. He doesn’t believe in love.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s a different thing altogether.” Liz frowned. “I’m not sure how to advise you, then. You were right to cut your losses. He’s a fool.”

  Maybe so, but he was her fool. And it was one thing for Felicity to think that herself, and another for her aunt to say it out loud. “He wants me back,” she said, defensive.

  “You can do better.”

  Felicity wasn’t sure if her aunt was being serious or pulling her leg, if Liz’s own experience was coloring her view or she was goading Felicity into action. “I wish I knew what to do.”

  A shiny black sports car drove by, the kind Michael always rented. A few seconds later it was backing up the street, then stopped in front of Liz’s house. Felicity clenched the arm rest. She touched her hair, remembering she’d just pulled it up with a barrette, expecting to be cleaning house.

  “He’s wearing Wranglers,” she said, watching him stride up the walkway, a bouquet of daisies in his hand. “And a cowboy shirt.”

  “With creases sharp enough to cut paper,” Liz added. “Let’s hope he didn’t buy pointy-toed boots.”

  He came to a stop on the top stair, rested a booted foot—with a just-right toe—on the porch itself.

  “Mornin’, Felicity. Liz.”

  He wasn’t wearing a Stetson, but he sure sounded like a cowboy. The ice around Felicity’s heart thawed a little at the effort he was making.

  “Hey, there, cowpoke,” Liz said, grabbing her crutches and standing. “I have something important to do. Like watch my dust bunnies grow.”

  After she went into the house, Michael stepped onto the porch. He sat next to Felicity, but their shoulders brushed once, briefly, and she hopped up and moved away.

  “These are for you,” he said, leaning forward far enough to hand her the bouquet. “I sent you roses before I really knew you. These suit you better.”

 
She did what any woman would, she pressed her face into them, then she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just hold on to them.

  He stood, came close, raised a hand toward her face. She yanked back. “Don’t.”

  “You’ve got pollen from the flowers,” he said, brushing at it, then dropping his hand and stepping back. “We need to talk.”

  “Not here,” she whispered harshly, her heart thundering. He looked so handsome in his Western clothes, casual and huggable. “She’ll hear everything through that window behind you.”

  “All right. Let’s go for a drive.”

  “Let’s walk up the road a bit.” She opened Liz’s front door and set her flowers inside first. “Okay.”

  “How have you been?” Michael asked, matching his strides to hers. He wanted—needed—to hold her hand. He’d missed her, felt empty without her. For a while he’d carried around one of her mints, but it melted in his pocket. He’d been devastated by it, which came as more of a shock to him than anything else that had happened. It was just a piece of candy, but...

  “Did you bring the annulment papers?” she asked.

  “Even I can’t accomplish that so quickly.”

  “I told you not to come back unless you have them.”

  “And I said I wasn’t giving up.”

  She veered off the road and down a well-trod path. He didn’t know where it led, but then he heard water, a nearby stream.

  “I don’t think we’ll be overheard here,” she said, stopping and crossing her arms.

  It wasn’t a particularly scenic spot. The stream wasn’t running fast and the bushes were scraggly, but she was there, and that was all that mattered.

  “The only reason I’m talking to you,” she said, “is to tell you what everyone here thinks, and what I’ve told people, so we’re on the same page. Obviously, I didn’t tell anyone about the wedding, so no one will know about that. Everyone has jumped to the conclusion that you broke my heart, so they pretty much—”

  “Hate me?”

  She shrugged. “I tried at every opportunity to say they got it wrong, that I broke your heart, but no one believes me. I shared a little more with Liz, but that’s all.”

  “Not Sarah-Jane?”

  “She’s marrying into your family. Knowing her, she’d hold it against you and you’d be banned from all the family events she’ll ever host down the road.”

  He didn’t think Wyatt would allow that, but he held his tongue. “So, you’re saying I have an uphill battle not only with you but with the entire town.”

  “You have no battle with me. As for the town, does it matter to you?”

  He was surprised how much it mattered. He wanted to be accepted here, where everyone loved and protected her. He didn’t want to be a pariah. “It matters, Felicity. I have family here. They’re sticking.”

  “Then I don’t know what to say. It won’t be easy. I’m sorry about that. I’ve tried to put the blame on myself, but no one’s buying it. It’s been really hard.”

  “Not much about this relationship has been easy.”

  Her lips compressed into a straight, hard line. Her eyes narrowed. “Well, gee, Mr. Bigwig Fortune, who always gets what he wants. I’m so sorry I haven’t just buckled under and done everything you asked all the time. Haven’t fawned at your feet. Haven’t waited by the phone for you to call.” She moved in on him. “I’m entitled to my feelings. I’m entitled to love and be loved. I’ll find it, that much I guarantee you.”

  “I didn’t mean it like you’re taking it. Felicity.” He reached for her as she turned away and took off. He caught up in a hurry. “I like that it hasn’t been easy, that you’ve challenged me. That you wouldn’t let me run the relationship. I’ve been learning to compromise. All I’m asking is that you compromise with me on this issue between us.”

  She stopped in her tracks. “You think this is an issue? This is my life.”

  “And mine.” He pounded his chest. “Ours. I married you because I wanted to. I want to stay married. I need you to give me—us—a chance.”

  She didn’t say anything, which he took as a good thing.

  “Let’s start over,” he said. He wanted to touch her, but he was pretty sure she would rebuff him. “We can spend time together. Learn more about each other. Do things differently. You’ve always struck me as a fair person, one who gives second chances. Before you turn your back completely, will you give us one more try?”

  Felicity stared at the ground as his words settled over her. He was right. She wasn’t one to give up—unless she saw no hope. Was there no hope? She’d made a vow. But so had he, and his was a lie. He promised to love. He didn’t.

  “Have dinner with me tonight. Pretend it’s our first date,” he said.

  She felt him stroke her hair. Intending to clean house, she hadn’t even showered yet. She felt grungy. “Don’t,” she said, pulling away.

  He didn’t say anything, but she knew he was upset just by the way he stood.

  “Okay,” she said, and watched a transformation come over him. Not overt happiness, but relief probably. She finally realized how tired he looked, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Or maybe he’d been sick. She didn’t want to care so much, but— “Are you all right?” she asked, searching the dark depths of his eyes.

  “I’m getting better. Can we start now?”

  “Start?”

  “The date.”

  She touched her hair self-consciously again. “I told Liz I’d help clean her house today.”

  “I’ll help. Then we’ll go.”

  She tried not to laugh. He was being so un-Michael like. He wasn’t smooth and in charge, but visibly eager. “I’ll need to shower and change.”

  “No problem.”

  They walked back to Liz’s house. She wanted to hold his hand like they usually did. And as long as she was being honest with herself, she wanted their date to be at his hotel room, in bed. Maybe her emotions were in turmoil, but her body knew him now, knew the pleasure and satisfaction he gave. Knew how pleasurable it was to make love to him, too, openly, without hesitation, with gusto.

  “I’ve missed you, Felicity.”

  She almost broke down. Tears filled her eyes and burned her throat, but she wouldn’t say the words back to him, even though they were true for her, too.

  Why was love so complicated?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sarah-Jane didn’t hide her annoyance when she and Wyatt came into the apartment hours later. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hello to you, too,” Michael said. “Wyatt.”

  “Felicity let you in?” Sarah-Jane asked. “Where is she?”

  “Getting ready for our date.” He knew their response represented the town as a whole. He’d decided not to use words but actions to gain their approval.

  “I suppose you brought her those daisies.” She sniffed. “At least you got that right this time.”

  He almost smiled. “Thank you.”

  She raced upstairs, leaving Michael alone with Wyatt.

  “Is it true?” Wyatt asked.

  Michael braced himself. “What?”

  “Felicity says she’s the one who ended things, yet here you are, taking her out.”

  “There’s blame to share, Wyatt. We decided we’d invested a lot and we weren’t ready to give up.”

  Wyatt threw up his hands. “You are so like your father. She isn’t a business, Mike. You don’t invest in her. You treat her well. You love her. Or you get the hell out.”

  Michael clenched his teeth. “How hard would you work to keep Sarah-Jane if she decided right now not to marry you?”

  “Hard,” Wyatt said, the word coming out rough. “With everything I’ve got.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m doing. And just for the record, Wyatt, you don’t like being compared to your father, either. Who knows? Maybe we’re all like our parents, whether we like it or not. But one thing we all seem to have in common is that we don’t give up.”

 
Wyatt conceded the point with a small gesture. “It’s just that I hear it all from Sarah-Jane, and she’s prejudiced toward Felicity, of course.”

  “It shouldn’t be any other way. It says a lot about Felicity that she has such great, supportive friends.” He realized he didn’t. Maybe that was why it mattered so much that he not lose the respect and affection of his siblings and cousins. They’d been the ones who’d mattered all these years. Would continue to matter.

  Sarah-Jane came down the stairs, Felicity right behind her. Even though her hair was still damp from her shower, she’d never looked more beautiful to him, quite literally took his breath away. He rubbed his chest where his heart had seemed to expand too quickly as she came up beside him. She wasn’t even dressed up, but had on jeans and one of her lacy tops.

  Michael had to look away from her, was suddenly worried about spending an evening with her without touching. He turned to Wyatt. “We’re going bowling. You two want to come along?”

  “Bowling? Really?” Felicity said, then made eye contact with Sarah-Jane. They both smiled.

  “I’d like to,” Sarah-Jane said. She turned to Wyatt and gave him a you’d-better-agree look that even Michael could read.

  “Fine with me,” Wyatt said.

  Felicity picked up her purse from the kitchen table. “What made you choose bowling, Michael?”

  If he were being honest with her, he’d tell her he wanted to be able to sit and watch her, especially from behind. He was smarter than that, however. “It seemed like something fun to do. And different.”

  “Hmm. Okay.”

  They all moved toward the front door, but Felicity stopped at the coat closet and pulled out a jacket for Sarah-Jane, then one for herself. Then she crouched and dug deep in the closet, coming out with a bowling ball bag.

  “You have your own ball?” Michael asked as Wyatt and Sarah-Jane left the apartment.

  “If you’d accepted my invitation to see my bedroom that time I asked, you would’ve seen my bowling trophies. Not all of them because they wouldn’t all fit, and it would look tacky.” She grinned at him, then let him precede her so that she could lock the front door.