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

by Cheri Allan

  Grace waved and waited for Mr. Larson and the band to sit. “Good evening! Thank you all for coming!

  “Before we start, I’d like to thank Ms. Lydia Sweet for loaning us the use of her fabulous shop, my very own grandmother, Ruth Pearson, for generously providing all the delicious nibbles and treats—donations are accepted—our volunteers, Susan, Ellen and Rachel, for sorting all the clothes and transforming this place into a roaring twenties speakeasy overnight, the Sugar Falls Jazz Ensemble for providing our live entertainment this evening… And last but not least… Kate Mitchell for having the brilliant idea of hosting this event and pulling together a million details in an inhumanly short timeframe.”

  Kate nodded and waved her roll of paper towels.

  “As you’ve heard, we’re raising money for the Gifts for the Greater Good tonight—50% of all sales of vintage items from the shop and 100% of all sales from donated clothing will go toward the food pantry renovation fund, so mingle, shop and most of all have fun! The runway show will begin at eight o’clock, so be ready to strut your stuff, ladies!”

  Everyone clapped and Mr. Larson hit an excruciatingly high note on his trumpet before launching into an enthusiastic if not well-rehearsed swing number. The crowd didn’t seem to care. The hum of excited voices filled the room as the women disbursed again to browse the racks and tables as if it were a Filene’s Basement sale and they were searching for wedding gowns. Kate took a deep breath and pointed a woman loaded with items and shrugging out of her top toward the dressing rooms set up in the back of the store.

  Grace arrived at her elbow. “I can’t believe this crowd. You’re amazing.”

  “The power of social media. Seems you have a reputation of hosting great parties.”

  Grace shrugged elegantly and smiled. “It’s a gift.”

  There were close to fifty or sixty women there with a few stragglers still coming in. Thankfully, they’d encouraged people to drop off donations throughout the day for pre-sorting. Some still came laden with bags at the last minute, but it was quick work to sort it out. All was flowing smoothly.

  “Great party,” a woman enthused as Kate loaded a tray of drinks for the musicians. Again. Mr. Larson had hinted he’d like more food, too, but seeing as they’d only been playing fifteen minutes since their last break, Kate hoped she could get a little more entertainment out of them before they decimated the refreshments table. Mr. Larson was not a small man.

  “Thank you,” Kate replied.

  The woman grinned broadly and took a healthy swig from her glass. “How often do you have these?”

  “This is the first.”

  “So much fun.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Kate nodded and lifted the tray of drinks.

  It all seemed to happen in slow motion: The woman lifting her hand to wave goodbye… Plastic champagne flutes of white grape juice and seltzer flying up off the surface of the tray toward Kate’s chest… The gasps of those around them as they lurched out of the way, hands flying to their mouths...

  “Ohmigod! I’m so sorry!”

  The tray clattered noisily to the floor as it slipped from Kate’s fingers and the band came to a screeching, awkward halt. In the stunned silence that followed, she tried to take a breath as cool, sticky liquid slid down her neck and into her dress. A trickle of liquid slid down her calf and into her shoe as the woman grabbed a paper napkin and mopped clumsily at Kate’s chest.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It was an accident. Mr. Larson?”

  The band picked up where they’d left off, and Rachel rushed forward to take over clean-up. Kate reassured the woman she’d be all right, then pasted a smile on her face and made her way to the dressing rooms to collect her regular clothes, swiping mocktail off her bare arms and trying to be thankful it hadn’t gotten her hair. Much. Oh God. Her bra was squishy.

  The dressing rooms were scenes of cheerful chaos as dozens of women, standing in various states of undress, gave fashion advice and tossed clothing around. Kate slipped in and tried to find the bag she’d stashed her day clothes in. It wasn’t where she’d left it. “Susan? Have you seen my clothes? There’s been a little accident. They were in a blue bag in this corner.”

  Susan shook her head and gasped when she saw Kate’s situation. “Try the other room, maybe. I hope we haven’t sold them!”

  “Not funny.”

  Kate stepped into the hall and pulled off her shoes. She turned one upside down and watched a small puddle form on the floor.

  A woman stopped and put a commiserating hand on Kate’s arm. “Oh, honey. You’re in the right place. I think you could use a drink.” She pointed behind her to the second dressing room. “Winter White Sangria is on the left and the pony keg is on your right.”

  Kate blinked. “Pardon me?” But she didn’t wait for a reply as she pushed through into the room. Women crowded around laughing and drinking… and Nana stood behind a giant punch bowl ladling liquid into champagne flutes. Kate elbowed her way to the front.

  “Nana?”

  “Oh, hi honey. Phew! Quite the crowd, huh? I think we’re a hit!”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Serving refreshments.”

  “Nana, you can’t sell alcohol here! You need a permit for that!”

  “Oh, I’m not selling it, honey. It’s free.” She winked and pointed toward a donations jar with a red bra strapped around the middle. Someone dropped a few bills and spare change in, Nana rang a little silver bell and everyone called out ringy-dingy! in cheerful imitation.

  Gah! So this is what apoplectic felt like! “This is so irresponsible I don’t even know where to begin! How are these women going to get home? Have you thought of the liability?”

  “Oh, relax. I don’t serve anyone unless they surrender their car keys, see?” Nana pointed to another jar with the matching panties around it. A key chain with a pink rhinestone high heel was poking out the top. Oh God. This was wrong on so many levels… “I’ve got it all taken care of. Now stop fussing and go clean yourself up. You look awful. What happened to you anyway?”

  “A drunk woman dumped a tray of drinks on me, and I’ve lost my clothes!”

  “Tsk. Tsk. I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure they’ll turn up…”

  “Nana...”

  “Are you in line?” someone asked from behind her.

  “No.” Kate heaved a sigh and gave her grandmother a ‘we’ll talk later’ look, then pushed her way back out, the tinkling of the bell and a chorus of ringy-dingy! following her into the hall.

  After ditching her soaked shoes in a storage closet, she found a bathroom, pulled out a wad of paper towels and turned on the faucet.

  Rachel poked her head around the door. “There you are!” She pushed into the tiny room and shut the door. “Susan told me what happened. I couldn’t find your blue bag, so I tried to find something I thought would fit.” She held up a hanger with clothes on it. “It’s a zoo out there.”

  Kate stared at the outfit. “Seriously?”

  Rachel shrugged. “It was either this or a track suit that smelled like mouse pee. I threw that out.”

  “Um, thanks.”

  “By the way, it’s quarter to eight. Do you think we should get people ready for the show?”

  “It’s nearly eight? Yes. Just give me a minute to wash up and… change.”

  “No problem.”

  Five minutes later, Kate poked her head out of the bathroom, praying ‘the girls’ didn’t hop out the top of her bustier as she made her way out front again. Good grief. Did it have to be so… pointy? She sucked in a careful, shallow breath and stepped up to the microphone. “Good evening. Ladies? Hello. Hi. If I could have your attention, please? It’s almost eight o’clock, so, um, it looks like the band will be taking another break. We invite you to make your final choices before we hold our fashion show. Again, thank you so much for coming. Ten minutes!”

  The din of voices rose again as Kate stepped away from the microphon
e. She dimmed the lights, turned the accent lighting to ‘twinkle’ and pressed ‘play’ on the pre-recorded jazz music she’d downloaded from iTunes.

  She tried not to dwell on what she must be stepping in with her bare feet as Mr. Larson approached. His plate was piled with food. Again. “Miss Mitchell, may I have a word with you?”

  “Of course.”

  Mr. Larson’s beady eyes frowned down at Kate’s twin torpedoes. “It has come to my attention that you are serving alcohol.”

  Kate crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, actually—”

  “I do not approve.”

  Kate’s eyebrows rose. “I assure you, it wasn’t my ide—”

  “We’ll be leaving now.”

  Her arms dropped. “Leaving? But the fashion show is about to begin!”

  His eyes scanned her cleavage once more as if he hadn’t gotten enough information the first time, and his considerable barrel-chest puffed indignantly. “It’s clear this—event—isn’t the kind of fundraiser we care to support.” He turned to go then paused. “But if you could pack up a few of those little dessert puffs while we put our instruments away, that’d be great.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Larson, but I wouldn’t dream of keeping you any longer than necessary.”

  He harrumphed and mumbled something about the influence of Fifty Shades on impressionable women and waddled back to his trumpet case.

  Kate poured herself another mocktail from the drink fountain—noticeably underutilized now that everyone had discovered dressing room #2—and sank onto a chair.

  Rachel plopped down beside her. “Are we having fun yet?”

  Kate gave a snort. She scooted her chair forward as a group of women burst into laughter behind them and took a sip of her drink. “So, has Doug heard about the job?”

  “Yes! He got it!” Rachel flashed an ultra-wide smile. “Isn’t that great? It’s a real step up for him. For us, I mean.”

  “Congratulations. That’s wonderful.”

  “Oh, it is. It is! Wonderful…” She nodded vigorously. “First the baby, now his job... Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it’s true!” Rachel stabbed an olive with a toothpick, shoved it in her mouth and chewed rapidly.

  “Sounds like everything is falling into place.”

  “Just like I’ve always dreamed.”

  Kate leaned forward and frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay? Of course! I’m fine. Just fine,” she insisted, her smile stiff and slightly manic. “Everything’s perfect!”

  “It doesn’t look perfect.”

  Rachel stabbed another olive with the toothpick, but when she looked at Kate again, her smile was gone, her eyes awash with tears. “Oh God, I can’t do this anymore.”

  “The fashion show?”

  Rachel shook her head, the tears starting to overspill. She looked around miserably then blinked at the ceiling. Swallowed. “I can’t do this. I can’t—” She began to fan herself with a limp hand, her chin starting to wobble.

  Kate grabbed Rachel’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on. You need some air.” She led Rachel toward the back of the shop, avoiding the crowded dressing rooms in favor of a rear door she hoped was a back entrance. It was a service hallway. It felt close and hot and smelled of moldy carpet but at least it was private.

  Rachel didn’t seem to notice. She leaned against the wall, tears sliding down her face.

  Kate rummaged in the pockets of the prairie skirt and produced a crumpled tissue. It looked clean, so she handed it over.

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel mumbled through the tissue. “I’m doing it again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”

  “Hormones?”

  Rachel smiled weakly and worried the tissue in her fingers. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “Do you, ah, want me to get Grace?”

  “No!” Rachel grabbed Kate’s arm and pulled her away from the door. “No. Please, don’t. You know how she is.” She waved her hand. “I don’t want to upset her. Especially tonight.”

  “Of course. Do you want me to leave you... alone?”

  Rachel shook her head.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Okaaaay. We can just... wait here. Until you’re ready. No hurry.” She chewed her bottom lip and focused on a stain on the hallway carpet, trying not to notice the tissue dissolving into shreds in Rachel’s fingers.

  “I don’t even know what’s wrong with me,” Rachel muttered. “It just feels like life has, I don’t know, taken over. Like everything I always wanted is coming true, but all at once. Doug has his new job, we have to find a place to live, I have to pack and move... Then there’s the baby...”

  “I’m sure everything will work out.”

  “How? How can you be sure? I think I’ve been wanting this for so long, or thought I wanted it, now that it’s happening...” She let her voice trail off.

  Kate forced a reassuring smile. “It just sounds like jitters to me. Happens to everyone. It’s a lot to take in.”

  Rachel stared down the hall vacantly. “It’s just... I know now a part of my life is over, you know? Unlike most of those women in there, I’ll never be that carefree swinging single again. I’ll be a.... a... mother!” she cried suddenly, weeping anew into her tissue.

  “Hey. It’s okay. Being a mother isn’t so... bad.”

  Okay, maybe not the world’s most ringing endorsement for motherhood, but she wasn’t prepared. And, hey, it wasn’t as if people became mothers for the glamour of it all! Sometimes it just... happened.

  “I know. I know.” Rachel said, raising her head again. “I want to be a mother. I do! But, I feel like I’m finally getting everything I’ve always wanted, and… I don’t deserve it.” She ended on a whisper.

  “That’s crazy. Of course you do. This is just the hormones talking.”

  Rachel took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders a little. “Right. Hormones. Why else would I be bawling like this? I mean, we’ve tried to get pregnant for months. Doug is so excited.”

  “It’s overwhelming sometimes even to get good news.”

  Rachel nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.” Then her face dropped to her hands. “Who am I kidding? It has nothing to do with hormones!”

  Kate had a sinking, hot sensation in her gut. She tried not to glance at her watch. “What has nothing to do with hormones?”

  Rachel stared at the floor. “I saw him.”

  Kate didn’t ask who. “When?”

  “This afternoon.”

  “Oh, Rachel...”

  “I know! Why? Why would I do it? Why would I risk everything I’ve always wanted—a good husband, home, family... It was just coffee. Like he said. Nothing happened. We just talked.”

  “Just talked?”

  Rachel nodded. “I told him about how I was... expecting. He offered his congratulations, wished Doug luck in his new job. But I feel so guilty, Kate. We didn’t even talk about old times or anything about us. Or...” She hiccupped and looked away again. “God. What’s wrong with me? Why would I do this to Doug? He doesn’t deserve this!”

  “Do you plan to see Je— this guy again?”

  Rachel shook her head. “I don’t even know what I was looking for, you know? I know what we had was nothing that would have lasted, but I can’t help thinking about it...” She raised red-rimmed eyes to Kate. “What if one of us slips? What if we make a mistake somewhere down the line? You have no idea the people who would be hurt by this if they knew...”

  “Maybe if you tell Doug and get it out in the open—”

  “I couldn’t!”

  “Okay. Then if this guy and you agree what happened is ancient history, maybe that’s it. It seems to me that can be the end of it.”

  Rachel nodded. “Sure. Yeah.” She blotted her nose and gave a watery smile. “I’m sorry. To blubber all over you like that. Again.”

  “Hey, cleaning up messes i
s my specialty.”

  Rachel dabbed her eyes and pocketed the tissue. She took a cleansing breath. “I can’t believe how much I’m crying lately. I don’t remember it being like this when… Anyway, do I look okay?”

  “You look fine. I wouldn’t know you’d been crying unless I’d been standing here with you.”

  Rachel rested a grateful hand on Kate’s sleeve. “Thanks.”

  “Last call for refreshments before we start the show!” Kate pushed open the door in time to hear Grace’s announcement. Grace stood at the microphone and caught Kate’s eye with a questioning, worried look, but Kate gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

  “Just needed a little fresh air,” she said as she and Rachel made their way back to their seats.

  Rachel picked up her plate. “I think I’ll get more of that antipasto before it’s gone. Food will do me good. And Kate?” Kate glanced up. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”

  Kate smiled, nodded, as Rachel turned toward the refreshments table and everyone readied themselves for the fashion show.

  A buzz of anticipation filled the air. Despite the illegal bar in the back room, the juice-soaked costume and a mediocre and morally-sensitive band, the evening seemed to be a success. It felt good to be out and amongst other women—real women she might actually have something in common with. She missed having girlfriends. Not that she didn’t have friends. She was friendly with lots of people. It just felt good to relax and not worry about whether she was making friends with the right people, was the thing.

  Wait a minute. Had she just thought that? Where had that even come from?

  Kate chewed her lip and grimaced. Stupid question. She knew exactly where that came from. The truth was, she’d never felt free to make friends simply because she liked someone. At first, it had been her mother who subtly implied certain acquaintances would be more beneficial—or not. Then it was Randy who monopolized her, left no room for anything but him and his needs.