Getting Lucky

by Susan Andersen

  He sat on the edge of the mattress and reached out to touch her bangs. “You cut your hair.” Then he shook his head, as if unable to believe he’d mentioned something so immaterial. “Lily told me you were sick.”

  God, he was handsome, and she wanted so much to pretend she hadn’t seen what she had seen at the Olga Café. But she was through pretending; she simply could not do so any longer and still face herself in the mirror. She shifted away from his touch. “I am sick. Sick of this marriage.”

  “What?” He visibly paled.

  “I saw you, Christopher.”

  “You saw me what?” He looked at her with baffled green eyes. “Where? What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t toy with me, okay? And don’t play the innocent; it makes me want to scratch your eyes out.” She shoved herself more fully upright and scooted back until her shoulders pressed against the headboard. Picking up a throw pillow, she clutched it to her roiling stomach. Then she met his gaze head on. “I saw you with that woman at the Olga Café today, after you specifically told me you’d be—”

  He laughed.

  Of all the reactions she might have expected, that wasn’t one of them, and she felt as if something inside her had ripped away from its foundation. Tossing aside the pillow, she scrambled toward the far side of the bed. She felt as if she were bleeding to death inside, but damned if she needed to stick around and give him a front row view of the process.

  Before she could slide off the other side of the mattress, however, he dove after her, catching her by the shoulder. “Jess—”

  Years of being a good girl, of staying in the background and never making any waves, went up in smoke. She came completely undone and started kicking, scratching, and flailing. “Get away!”

  “No.” He wrestled her flat onto her back and rolled atop her to hold her down. Catching her wrists in his hands, he pinned her arms to the mattress above their heads. Then he pushed up slightly to stare down at her. “Jesus,” he whispered, settling more firmly on top of her. “Jesus, Jessie.”

  Her breasts heaved as she tried to drag in enough breath to inflate her lungs. All the fight went out of her, and she returned his stare dully, her emotions a tangled web of loving him, hating him, and wishing herself a million miles away. “Let me go.”

  “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “That’s the one thing I just can’t do.”

  Tears filled her eyes and silently overflowed.

  “Oh, man, don’t do that.” Turning loose her wrists, he swiped at her cheeks with his fingers. “Please, baby, don’t cry. I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear I wasn’t. I was laughing at the situation.” His mouth slanted bitterly. “And you gotta admit it’s kinda funny, in a twisted, dicked-up sort of way.”

  She just stared at him, and he insisted, “No, really, it is. This all came about in the first place because I knew you’d been unhappy for a long time, and I wanted to do something about it.”

  “So you thought you’d make me feel better by having an affair with another woman?” she demanded incredulously.

  “I’m not having an affair, Jessie. I’m getting a new job.”

  “You’re—” She could feel her mouth working like a landed fish’s, and snapped it shut. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. But still all she seemed capable of doing was gaping witlessly. “What?”

  “The woman you saw me with is the personnel director for a company called StarTek. Her name is Lynn Duncan.” He blew out a breath. “You think I don’t understand what’s been going on here? Ever since I took the job with David things have gone to hell between us. I know you believe that’s the reason I married you, but I’m actually damn good at what I do. I’m in demand, for crissake—corporations send their top headhunters after me on a regular basis.” With each word he spoke, his golden eyebrows inched closer together, until they met fiercely over his nose as he glared down at her.

  Then he seemed to collect himself, and his brow smoothed. “But I thought you wanted to live here with your family, so I took the job with David. I thought it would please you.” He stiff-armed himself away to loom over her on braced hands. And he shook his head and sighed. “But I don’t think you’ve been truly happy since the day we moved into this place.” Rolling off her, he climbed to his feet.

  For a minute all Jessica could think was, It isn’t another woman. It isn’t another woman! Then her own brow furrowed, and she turned onto her side, stuffing the throw pillow beneath her armpit as she propped her head in her hand. “Have you been any happier?”

  He shrugged. “Not really, but I thought I was doing what you wanted.”

  Jessica’s heart began to pound, with confusion, with hope. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this before?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I just hoped you’d trust me without having to explain myself to death.”

  “What do you mean, explain yourself to death? You’ve never explained yourself at all!”

  “Yeah, all right, maybe I haven’t.” He thrust his fingers through his hair. “And that was wrong of me. But all my life women have looked at me and seen…my looks. I’ll admit that wasn’t a problem until I met you. When you seemed to see the real me, though, I discovered it’s a lot more exciting being wanted for more than just my face or my studly butt.”

  “You can’t simply take your looks out of the equation, though, Christopher. I knew within five minutes of meeting you that you were so much more than just a gorgeous guy. But the fact remains, you are a gorgeous guy. And I’m about as far from gorgeous as it gets. I’m just a mousy, average-looking woman.”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re so beautiful, Jessie, both inside and out. And no one else can make me laugh the way you do. No one else makes me want to be a better man.” His eyes darkened. “Besides, you’ve got those pretty eyes, and those legs up to here that make me so horny I can barely see straight. I fell for you like Adam from grace, and I thought we were going to live happily ever after.”

  But they hadn’t. Somehow the ink had barely dried on the marriage certificate before everything had started falling apart. “What happened?” she asked.

  He came back and joined her on the bed, stretched out facing her in a position that mirrored her own. “Remember how we used to talk to each other in our little apartment in Bellingham?”

  “Of course. We never seemed to run out of things to say.”

  “Well, when we moved here, you quit talking to me. You quit laughing with me.”

  “So why did you never say anything? You don’t seem to have any trouble telling me now. Why not before?”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me your fears?”

  Okay, looking at it from his perspective, she realized that the situation could be construed differently from the way she’d always viewed it, and she drew a deep breath. “I was afraid to,” she admitted slowly. “I love you so much, but I guess I couldn’t quite believe you could love me in return. I’ve just been waiting for you to take up with one of the gorgeous women who are always throwing themselves at you.” She peered at him, a sense of wonder slowly filling her. “But you’re never going to do that, are you?”

  “Hell, no!” He reached out and dragged her across the small sea of bedspread separating them. Wrapping her in his arms, he held her tightly and pressed his mouth to the crown of her head. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I’ve been trying to find a way back to you. I’ve been trying so fucking hard, Jess. For such a long time.”

  She spread her palms against his chest to absorb as much of his warmth and strength as she could. But she was desperate to hold him in return, and soon slid her hands up to wrap around his strong neck. “Why didn’t you at least tell me you were looking for another job?”

  “I wanted to surprise you.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Don’t ask me why, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “God, Christopher, I love you so much. And I’m such a coward for not trying harder. It’s just…I’ve always felt so se
cond-rate, and that’s a hard self-image to break. First there was an entire lifetime spent trying to keep up with the Joneses, which is pretty futile when you flat out don’t have the means to compete. Then, too, I’ve never been the life of the party, or even someone with an interesting career. And I’m certainly not pretty like Cassidy.” He made a sound of disagreement and she tightened her arms around his neck. “I’m not. But you chose me anyway, and for a while I felt like a goddess. Then, when you seemed to jump at David’s offer within months of the wedding, I didn’t know what to think. I’m not proud that my insecurities made me suspect the worst possible explanation. And I’m even less proud that instead of confronting you with my doubts, I did what I’ve always done, and withdrew inside myself.”

  “I don’t know, baby, I’d say your withdrawing days are numbered. You looked pretty kick-ass fierce a few minutes ago when you threatened to scratch my eyes out.”

  The corners of her lips curled up in a tiny smile. “I’ve felt a little more confident lately. A little less willing to please everyone—and a lot less passive.”

  He tucked his chin in and simply looked down at her for a moment. “Because of Lily,” he finally said, and a trace of sadness showed in the depth of his green eyes as he rearranged a tendril of her newly shorn hair against her cheek. “This is petty, but I wish I could have been responsible for some of it.”

  “Lily has helped me a lot. She’s made me feel prettier by teaching me how to achieve a good look for me. It gives me self-assurance, Chris, because for the first time in my life I actually feel fashionable, instead of like some dowdy poor relation. And she gave me the gift of trusting in my quilting talents, too. But that’s peanuts compared to knowing you love me.” She tipped her head back to look him in the eye. “It’s nothing next to learning you’ve been working to affect a change in our lives. That’s gotta be the biggest confidence booster of all. It makes me feel invincible. In charge of my life. And I want that, Chris—I want to grab my life with both hands and shake it up a little. To be confident and unafraid to try new things.”

  He grinned at her. “Then that’s what you’ll do. And to start, what do you say to trying out this newfound confidence in San Diego?”

  “Is that where the job is?”

  “Where this offer came from, anyway. I’ve had a few interviews, but I like this company best. They seem the most ethical, and they’re the only ones who didn’t push when I told them bringing corporate secrets from David’s company is not part of the package.”

  Joy bubbled up in Jessica’s veins and, laughing, she pushed until Christopher rolled over on his back and she lay sprawled atop him. Stacking her hands upon his chest, she propped her chin on them and looked down at her husband. Then she gave him a dreamy smile. “San Diego sounds perfect.”

  21

  THE SHERIFF WAS NOT HAPPY WITH MRS. BEAUMONT when he learned she’d purposely not called him in until matters had come to a head. But the same woman who’d spent a great deal of time in the throes of hysteria, Lily noted with interest, now met the lawman’s condemnation with utter equanimity. Mrs. B. was apparently too elated over David’s and Glynnis’s safe return to care if the sheriff approved or not. And when he turned his ire on Zach, she stepped right in to take full responsibility, making it clear that she had acted contrary to Zach’s advice.

  Lily watched the little drama unfold with fascination, but eventually pulled herself away to go down to the kitchen to assemble a belated lunch. It was funny, though, she mused, how people could rise to some occasions but completely fall apart on others.

  A short while later she carried lunch to the dining room. As she passed the parlor, she glanced in and discovered that although the sheriff had left with Richard, others had arrived to take their place, and overall, the total number of people in the house had grown. Jessica, looking much improved, had come down with Christopher, and Zach’s friends were there. Taking a quick head count, Lily unloaded her tray onto the dining room sideboard, then went back to the kitchen. It didn’t take long, however, before she was headed back with additional servings. If there was one thing she was especially good at, it was making sure there was enough food to go around.

  Zach must have spotted her on her second trip to the dining room, for his voice suddenly called out, “Hey, look! Soup’s on! You want some help with that, lollipop?”

  The entire boisterous group poured out of the parlor, and suddenly the dining room was alive with voices and laughter. Flashing her a sheepish smile, John Miglionni took the tray out of her hands. Jessica helped her set the table. Lily had barely straightened from arranging the last place setting of silverware when a big blond man with dark eyes and even darker eyebrows came over, hand-in-hand with a slender woman with glossy black hair and white skin. He introduced the two of them as Cooper and Veronica Blackstock, then gave her a thorough appraisal. His brown eyes were fiercely intelligent; the first words out of his mouth were not.

  “Hoo-ahh,” he breathed. “And you can cook, too?”

  “Hey, that’s exactly what I said the first time I saw her.” John came up to join them. “The first part, anyway. I didn’t know about the cooking.” He grinned down at Lily. “It’s a Marine thing,” he explained. “A complimentary Marine thing.”

  Overwhelmed by the sudden wash of testosterone, Lily blinked at the two men, and Veronica nudged her husband. “Once you’ve rolled your tongue back into your mouth, isn’t there something else you’d like to say to Lily?”

  “Huh?”

  “Like how sorry you were to make her drag Zach out of bed this morning?”

  He stared at her as if she were nuts. “Why would I say that? There was planning to be done, Ronnie, and Zach would’ve been one unhappy little buckaroo if I’d let him sleep through it just because of a minor bump on the head.” He turned to his friend, who was approaching with a filched bread stick clenched like a Havana cigar between his grinning teeth. “Wouldn’t you, buddy?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “And let me guess,” Lily said dryly. “That’s a Marine thing, too.”

  “Hoo-ahh,” Ronnie murmured, and the two women laughed.

  Coop looked from them to his friends. “Women,” he said, shaking his head.

  Rocket gave a sage nod. “They’re a mystery.”

  “Ain’t it the truth?” Wrapping his arm around Lily’s shoulders, Zach tucked her next to his side while he pulled her chair out from the table. He nodded at his friends over her head as he seated her. “There’s just no understanding them.”

  All during lunch Zach teased Glynnis. He exchanged humorous insults with his Marine buddies, and was charming to all the women. And he laughed. He laughed so much it made everyone else at the table laugh, too, just from the sheer joyful sound of it.

  Lily could barely keep her eyes off of him. She had never seen him like this. She had honestly believed she understood the depths of his distress over Glynnis’s kidnapping, but what she’d seen must have been the proverbial tip of the iceberg, because this man at the table, this exuberant, head thrown back, happy-with-the-world man, was a whole new Zachariah.

  A Zachariah who enthralled her.

  And not only her, she discovered. After lunch, as she was clearing the table, Cassidy moved in and started flirting like crazy.

  To Lily’s disgust, Zach didn’t seem to mind at all. Far from discouraging her, in fact, he laughed and flirted right back. Gritting her teeth and harboring hot thoughts about snatching a certain brunette baldheaded, she hefted her tray and headed for the door, suddenly feeling every bit the scullery maid Richard had labeled her. She pitied herself more with every step she took. Heck, even Jessica appeared to have deserted her this afternoon. Lily had caught a glimpse of her and Christopher heading up the stairs as if there were a four-alarm fire and they knew where the only extinguisher was kept. Feeling abandoned, she used her hip to ease open the dining room door.

  “Here. Let me give you a hand with that.”

  Lily craned her
head around to peer at Veronica as the slender brunette reached over her shoulder to hold open the door. “Thanks.”

  “You want me to grab the other tray over there?”

  “Oh, please. That would be great.”

  Veronica followed her down the hall to the kitchen. “That was a fabulous meal.”

  Her mood lifting, Lily shot the other woman a smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I just sort of threw it together, though, so I’m afraid it wasn’t anything special.”

  “If that’s the case, then I’d sure love to taste ‘special,’ because I thought it was fantastic.” She set her tray on the counter and unloaded it with efficient competence. Pausing with the vinaigrette cruet in one hand, she looked over at Lily, who was loading the dishwasher. “Zach says you’re a chef for a corporate yacht. That must be exciting.”

  “It’s usually pretty fun,” Lily agreed. “And on occasion it’s a pain in the rear—depending on the guests, and to a lesser degree, the weather.”

  Veronica nodded. “Working with the public can be hard.”

  “Yeah. They can definitely make or break your day. And since the groups we take out tend to be mostly men, being the only woman aboard can occasionally be awkward.”

  “You get hit on?”

  “Not by the crew. There’s just three of us: the captain, first mate, and me—and Jack and Ben have never been anything but professional. But every now and again I have an incident with a guest. For the most part everyone is pretty cool—they usually take no for an answer with good grace. Only once did it turn into a real problem. Now, that was one of the not-so-fun trips.”

  “So, aside from the obvious of being on a boat, how does a yacht chef differ from being a chef for a restaurant?”

  “It’s much more intimate.” Fitting the last glass in the top rack, she added detergent, closed the dishwasher door, and turned it on. As the machine began its gentle churning, she turned to lean a hip against the counter and gave her complete attention to Veronica. “In a restaurant patrons are there for maybe three hours, and only rarely does the chef come out to meet them. On the boat, we’re thrown together for anywhere from three days to a week. And I’m a jack-of-all-trades there. In a restaurant, I’d have a kitchen crew and a wait staff, but the Argosy’s galley is minuscule and sleeping space is limited, so except for rare occasions I take care of everything myself. I plan menus and lay in supplies. Then I prep, cook, serve, and clean up.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But enough about me. What do you do?”