Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1)

by Cheri Allan

  “Grams is helping Kate get a job,” said Carter.

  “Really? Why?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” grumbled Jim into his spaghetti. “Has anyone bothered to ask Kate about this?”

  Ruth pursed her lips and busied herself pouring sauce into a pan to reheat it. “I would think you’d want to help her.”

  “Sure. If she wanted help.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” Grace cooed as she spooned salad into a bowl. She peered at the dressing label intently—as if they’d puree dead animals and stuff them in Italian dressing for heaven’s sake.

  Jim pushed his chair back with a hard scrape. “Back off, Grace.”

  “Aw, come on, you know I’m just ribbing you.”

  “I know what you’re doing. You’re all trying to set me up. Well, it’s not going to work, so butt out.”

  “Don’t you like her?” asked Ruth.

  “Of course I like her!” Jim snapped. “You might want to first find out if she feels the same way!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake—” Ruth began.

  “Thanks for dinner, Grams.” Jim brought his plate of food to the sink, half-eaten. “I gotta go.”

  “Jim—” Grace tried.

  The screen door slammed behind him.

  “I think you’ve got him on the line, Grams,” chuckled Carter. “Just reel him in, nice and slow.”

  “Very funny.” Ruth frowned at the door. “But now’s not the time for jokes. Jim’s clearly upset.”

  “I don’t know why.”

  “Don’t you?” Grace demanded.

  “Maybe, but I don’t think present company would allow me to repeat it.”

  “Like you ever worried about that before!”

  “Pot calling the kettle black,” he replied.

  “This is getting us nowhere.” Ruth poured sauce over some spaghetti and placed it in front of her granddaughter. “Something is bothering Jim, and it’s our duty as his family to figure out what it is. Carter, if you have information that may help us, you need to share it!”

  Carter raised one dark eyebrow and set down his fork. “All right. Kate only wants to get laid and Mr. Commitment wants more. Is that enough information for you two?”

  “Oh my...” breathed Ruth, but she was sure neither heard her as her granddaughter spewed salad across the table.

  Heavens. They had the table manners of baboons.

  “I am so hanging with Kate more often!” Grace laughed. At Ruth’s frown she quickly straightened in her seat. “Not that we have anything in common.”

  Ruth looked to her grandson. “That’s a serious accusation. Do you have any proof or are you simply making trouble?”

  “Would I make trouble?”

  “Yes. Yes, you would.”

  “Well, then,” he went on good-naturedly, “I guess you guys are on your own figuring this one out.”

  “You mean it’s not true?” Grace demanded, looking far too disappointed for Ruth’s liking.

  Carter shrugged, a smile toying about his lips.

  Infuriating. All around infuriating, thought Ruth.

  True or not true, there was trouble in paradise!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  ____________________

  “I HEAR YOU’RE MOVING TO Sugar Falls.” Jim infused the comment with all the casual indifference he could muster—somewhat difficult to achieve seeing as he’d just dashed down the stairs and out the back door so he could pretend to leave his house the same time she was.

  Kate’s hand paused on the roof of her car. She had on a knee-length flowered skirt today and her hair was pulled into a swingy ponytail. She looked the picture of girl-next-door wholesomeness.

  “Yes. Thinking about it, at least,” she called back.

  He nodded, not having thought ahead to where he was taking the conversation, having only just spied her through his kitchen window thirty seconds ago. “It’s a nice town,” he replied conversationally.

  “Yes. I really like it here.”

  “Well, I won’t keep you.” He turned toward his pickup, realizing, belatedly, he hadn’t even thought to grab his car keys.

  “Jim, wait!”

  He heard her tell Liam to stay in the car and then the telltale sound of footsteps as she hurried over.

  Jim closed his eyes. Waited.

  Her hand touched his arm first—soft and tentative on his bare skin—a moment before the fresh-berry scent of her shampoo caught up. “Jim, I... I imagine this all seems sort of impulsive of me.”

  He shook his head in denial even though it did.

  “Well.” Her ponytail swung to the side gently as she cocked her head with a wry grin. “It feels impulsive. But, you were right. It’s time for me to move forward, and I’m ready for a fresh start. Ready to move away from the old memories. Sugar Falls seemed as good a place to start as any.”

  “Right.”

  “I just hope...” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I just hope it doesn’t—you know—give you the wrong idea.”

  “The wrong idea?”

  “You know. About me. Us.”

  “I didn’t think there was an ‘us.’”

  “Right.” She smiled nervously, glancing over at her car. “Right. That’s right. I guess I’ll see you around, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  She was watching him now, as if she wanted to say more but didn’t know how to broach the subject, then she stepped away as if to leave.

  “I suppose that means you’ll be looking for a job here in town?” he blurted.

  She nodded, a relieved look on her face. “Yes. Although I may have a lead already. Carter called yesterday about helping him and your dad with some office work. I’m on my way there now to talk to him about it.”

  “Oh. Right. That’s terrific.”

  She smiled a warm happy smile he wished he could catch and keep, one he wished were meant for him.

  “I suppose it’s true what they say about things falling into place when they’re meant to be.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, I should go. I’m glad you’re okay with this.”

  “Why would I not be okay with it? It’s great. I hope it works out.”

  THIS IS NEVER GOING to work out.

  Kate stared in disbelief at the piles of paper and debris littering the small room Carter referred to as his ‘office.’

  “I know it’s a little messy...” he said, his voice trailing off.

  A little? It would take heavy equipment to clear this disaster!

  “—but I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to start in here.”

  Kate made a concerted effort to reclaim her sagging jaw before it hit the floor. “In here?”

  “Yeah. You know. Sort things out. And stuff.”

  “Right.” She reached for the light switch. Maybe some illumination would make things look better...

  “I’ve never been really good at paperwork. I’d rather be outdoors.”

  “It’s not everybody’s thing,” she said charitably.

  “Anyway, I’ve got a job I’d better get back to. You think you’ll be all right here for a while?”

  “I’m sure I’ll find plenty to keep me busy.”

  He grinned with relief. “Great. I was kind of worried you might have second thoughts. Once you saw it and all.”

  Kate wondered if there were a chair buried somewhere behind the desk. “Oh, no. Don’t give it a second thought. I’ll dig in and see what I can do.”

  “Thanks. You’re an angel,” he said with a charming smile.

  As Carter drove away, Kate sagged against the door. Good heavens! But, it was a job. It was a start. And, she had four hours to roll up her sleeves and dig her way to the floor before Nana would be back with Liam.

  Sometime later she heard a familiar voice float down the hallway.

  “Hellooooo! Anybody home?” Grace’s head popped around the door frame. “Where’s Carter?”

  Kate uncurled from her position on the floor and s
hook out her stiff legs. She wasn’t done, but she’d made significant progress. A large box by the door held trash. Laundry baskets and cardboard boxes of papers to be further sorted and filed lined the wall. Plus, she’d finally found the chair.

  “He’s at a job,” Kate replied. “I’m sorry but he didn’t say where.”

  “Crap. I’m doomed.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Grams just dumped some charity rummage sale in my lap, but I need someone to take over, because I’ve got my hands full planning a Naughty Nightie party to celebrate Rachel getting el prego—by the way, you’re invited. Friday night. Seven o’clock. Sorry for the short notice.”

  “When’s the rummage sale?”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Friday. Grams convinced Lydia to let them hold a charity sale at her shop—you know, that little vintage and consignment shop down in the old woolen mill? Anyway, Grams thought Claire was doing the promotion side of things and Claire thought Grams was doing it and, long story short, Lydia is out of town with her brother in Ohio who just had emergency gallbladder surgery, and her shop is full of a bunch of old clothes for a sale nobody knows about and nobody’s organizing and Grams is freaking out.”

  “Friday is only a couple days away. Why don’t they reschedule?”

  Grace threw up her hands. “That’s what I suggested. But Grams is having a conniption saying Lydia expects the store to be ‘back to normal’ by the weekend of the Blueberry Festival, and what will they do with all the clothes? If I can’t get somebody to run the sale and customers to buy stuff, I’m screwed.”

  Kate tried to process this flood of information. “What’s a Naughty Nightie party?”

  “You’ve never heard of them? It’s sexy lingerie and sleepwear, that sort of thing. My friend, Belinda, sells it. Anyway, she does house-parties, and I thought it would be a fun way to celebrate Rachel’s good news. Sort of a last hurrah, you know? Plus, with Belinda’s eldest starting college in September, they need all the extra cash they can get. You’ll come, right?”

  “I don’t know. I’d need to find a sitter…”

  “No problem. My parents are sitting for Susan’s twins. I’m sure they’d be happy to watch Liam, too.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t impose…”

  Grace waved away her objection. “They love kids. That’s not the problem. The problem is figuring out how to clone myself so I can be two places at once.”

  Kate contemplated the calendar on the desktop. “This may seem an odd question, but how many people have you invited to this party for Rachel?”

  “Hmm. Twenty? I had to limit myself. Fire regulations and all. Jim has a cow when I cram too many people into my apartment. He insists it’s a safety hazard.” She rolled her eyes. “Which is ridiculous. It’s not like I’m serving bananas flambé at these things.”

  Thoughts of Jim and flaming desserts sprang to Kate’s mind. For some reason he was wearing a red bow tie in her imaginary world. And no shirt. She shook her head and pushed away from the desk. “I may have an idea that’ll fix both your problems, but feel free to tell me if you don’t like it.”

  Grace clapped her hands. “I love it!”

  “You haven’t heard it.”

  “I heard ‘fix both your problems’ which totally works for me. What’s the idea?”

  “What if you somehow combined the Naughty Nightie party and the rummage sale? You could hold a Swap and Shop event where your friends donate clothes they no longer want and then they can shop for new outfits with the proceeds going to your grandmother’s charity. It would be like a rummage sale that helps them clean out their closets, too. If you hold it at Lydia’s shop instead of your apartment I’ll bet you’ll have room for a lot more women.”

  “But what about the Naughty Nightie party? I’ve already booked Belinda.”

  “There’s no reason you can’t make that part of the evening. We could make it a ‘Day to Night’ fashion show where women model the outfits they’ve gotten from the Swap and Shop while Belinda sets up for her Naughty Nightie thing. If we get some music and lights, some glitzy decorations, it’ll make it seem like a night on the town with your girlfriends.

  “My mother has dragged me to a million events like this. If we don’t get too ambitious, I don’t think it’ll be hard to pull together. What do you think?”

  Grace launched herself at Kate and wrapped her in a hug.

  “Ohmigod! You’re brilliant! Are you sure you can do it?”

  Kate gulped and looked up at Grace’s hopeful face. It’d mean organizing dozens of garments as they came in, having at least a couple style-savvy volunteers to help women pull together outfits, someone to arrange for music and decorations to make the evening special. Maybe a caterer friend willing to donate finger foods in exchange for free advertising… Oof. Two days wasn’t much time!

  Then again, she’d been attending fundraisers in one form or another her whole life. As long as there was entertainment and food, people would overlook almost anything. If there was one thing Kate knew, it was how to whip things into shape.

  She raised her chin. “Yes. But I’ll need you to recruit some volunteers for me... and invite a lot more women.”

  “Done! Oh, this is going to be a hoot!”

  “We haven’t pulled it off yet.”

  Grace motioned to the orderly piles around the room. “I have no worries. If the way you’ve cleaned up this mess is any indication, we’ll be fine. Should we have a margaritas mix station? My friend, Susan, came up with this recipe—”

  “No alcohol. We’d have to get a permit to sell alcohol, and, besides, who needs the liability? I have a simple, white grape juice mocktail recipe that’ll be perfect. They served it at a neighbor’s bar mitzvah last year. You’ll love it.”

  Grace looked slightly skeptical then glanced at her watch. “Ack! I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later so we can discuss details. Oh, this is going to be F-U-N, fun!” she said as she waved goodbye.

  Kate stared at the empty doorway. She had to stop committing to things like this and focus on getting on with life.

  But Grace was right. It did sound like fun.

  July 31

  I’ve lived a very sheltered existence. For instance, I only discovered last year what they put in hummus. (Who knew?) And I’ve never been further west than the Mississippi. (Though I have been to Canada. Twice.) It’s not that I’m afraid of new experiences, but so far they’ve been few and far between. Hmm. I wonder what that says about me?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ____________________

  THE SANDWICH BOARD OUTSIDE Lydia’s shop read:

  Speakeasy Shop & Swap Event

  ~ plus ~

  Naughty Nightie Party!

  Friday, July 31

  Doors open at 6:00; Show begins 8:00 PM

  Must be 21 or over to enter

  Refreshments! Prizes!!

  Music by: Sugar Falls Jazz Ensemble

  All proceeds to benefit the Gifts for the Greater Good

  Renovation Fund

  “They’re not coming.” Nana pulled aside the café curtain at the front window of Lydia’s shop and shook her head. “Oh, Kate, after all the work you’ve put into this, too. I suppose it was worth a try.”

  Kate smoothed a hand down her beaded skirt and adjusted the feather in her headband as Nana let the curtain fall back into place. Little white lights glittered along the ceiling in the darkened shop as the four elderly musicians Ruth Pearson had lined up and dubbed the “Sugar Falls Jazz Ensemble” tuned their instruments. “It’s only 6:25. Give them time.” Kate swallowed and nodded encouragingly at Mr. Larson, the trumpet player. He’d had a coughing fit earlier while demonstrating his technique. She made a mental note to bring him some bottled water.

  Ruth stepped out of the back room and surveyed the rows of empty folding chairs lining the center aisle. She adjusted the long strands of fake pearls around her neck. “Everything looks lovely, dear. It’s just as I imagine a twenties sp
eakeasy would look if it were a fashion runway. Truly.”

  “Thank you. Are Claire and Grace here yet with the refreshments?”

  “They’re loading the trays like you asked. But they wanted to know if you really think we need so many?”

  Kate swallowed the doubt in her throat. “Absolutely.” Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Kate cracked it open.

  “It’s me,” Rachel said a little breathlessly, pulling a garment rack through the door, “and the last of the vintage clothes, cleaned and pressed. I would have been here earlier, but I couldn’t figure out what would match that 1950’s bustier top, so I just stuck it with a prairie skirt.”

  “It doesn’t have to be perfect. I just wanted to give the women some ideas on how to incorporate the vintage pieces with current styles. Thanks for taking care of this last bit.”

  “It’s amazing what fabric refresher and an iron will do. Should I put this out back with the others or do you want these displayed over there?”

  Kate motioned to the spot she’d reserved for the sample outfits.

  Rachel pushed the rack forward. “Love the black and white decorations Susan whipped up. Very retro. By the way, I think your first group will be arriving soon. I saw a bunch of women coming around the corner.”

  Kate smoothed her skirt again, the beads tickling her fingers, and opened the door. “Welcome, ladies.”

  The women oohed and ahhed as they entered the shop and looked around.

  “Help yourselves to refreshments and feel free to browse. I can take any last-minute donations here and Susan—who is near the dressing rooms out back—will explain the pricing. All our volunteers are dressed as flappers tonight, so if you have any questions or would like us to re-hang something for you, just let us know. Enjoy your evening.”

  “Oh, we plan to!” said a stout brunette with a wide smile.

  One of her friends squealed and rushed over to admire a beaded pastel sweater set on the end of the rack Rachel had just brought in.

  Kate bit her lip and watched them go. She nodded to Mr. Larson to begin the trumpet piece he’d been dying to play.

  Half an hour later, she carried a roll of paper towels through the crowd of laughing, chattering women. She squatted down to mop up someone’s spilled drink and nearly got knocked into the puddle when Grace called their attention and the women surged forward, plastic champagne flutes sloshing with mocktails from the beverage fountain. Kate sat back on her heels. At least they were enjoying themselves.