Carly Phillips - Lucky Break

How could he? Jason’s stomach constricted at the accurate description. A lifetime of work and dreams had ended with one urine test. He’d lost everything in an instant.

“Third card in this row. Your obstacle. Ten of Pentacles. The card of community fulfillment. In order to get to your outcome, you need to rejoin the community on all levels.” She lifted her eyes from the cards set out on the table and met his gaze. “Stop hiding behind your past.”

He decided not to argue. There was no point.

“Last card.”

He found himself relieved that his torture was almost at an end. Clara meant well but all her hocus-pocus had accomplished was to make him more aware of his failures and how he’d allowed one mistake to control his life for too long. He was tired of being grumpy and miserable all the time.

He’d returned to Stewart and set up a contracting business. It was an obvious choice. To raise money for snowboarding, he’d worked for his father and Uncle Hank’s electrical and contracting business, so the work was familiar. But instead of enjoying it, he’d been going through the motions.

Maybe the cards were right, he thought wryly. Maybe it was time to put the past behind him and move on. At the very least he needed to get rid of some pent-up sexual frustration.

“Ready?” Clara asked.

He nodded, wanting this over. “What the hell. Show it to me.”

She revealed the final card. “Ten of Cups.” A large smile spread over Clara’s face. “Do you see the white picket fence?” She splayed her hands in front of her. “This goes perfectly with the red mask, the ultimate expression of romantic and abiding love.” She sighed on the last word. “Do you know what this means?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“The cards show you have the potential for happily ever after, Jason.” She smiled.

Those words conjured up another time.

Another place.

Another woman.

He’d been eighteen years old, working and trying to save money to fund his snowboarding. She’d been seventeen and visiting for the summer. He was a Corwin. She was a Perkins. She’d had some starry-eyed notion of them running off together. He’d had selfish dreams of Olympic gold that didn’t have room for anyone else.

Even if he sometimes wished they had.

He often wondered what would have happened if her grandmother hadn’t sent her packing. If he’d gone looking for her once he’d had enough cash. But he hadn’t. He’d used the money to build a name for himself. Hire a coach. Chase a dream that wasn’t meant to be.

“What are you thinking about?” Clara asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“About how you should give me a break.” He’d humored her up until now, but she was bordering on delusional if she thought she could convince him he was headed for a fairy-tale ending.

He hadn’t thought about Lauren in years. When her family had fallen apart a year ago, he’d been far from home, immersed in practice, and she hadn’t been around since he’d come back. The rumor mill had her in New York City, far from the Perkins family mess. He couldn’t blame her there.

“I don’t need to give you anything.” Clara’s voice broke into his thoughts. “The cards say it all.” She began sweeping the deck together, unfazed by his skepticism.

“Next thing you’ll be telling me is that the woman I’ll meet will be wearing a red mask.”

Clara tapped the cards to even them out. “You said it, I didn’t.”

He didn’t want to insult her so he remained silent, but the facts remained. If a man’s last name was Corwin, it wasn’t easy getting laid in Jason’s hometown, never mind finding someone to settle down with.

He bent to pick up his extra equipment and tossed the items into his tool chest.

“You weren’t always so cynical,” Clara said.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “How can you be so sure?” Although he liked and respected her, he couldn’t help challenging her so-called intuition. And he knew from previous exchanges, she enjoyed a challenge.

Clara merely shook her head. “I just know you were different before. Just like you’ll be different after.”

He knew he’d regret asking, but he did anyway. “After what?”

“After she rocks your world.”

DESPITE THE COOL FALL temperatures, Lauren drove back to her grandmother’s house from the prison with the convertible top down. After being in the small room with her sister, she needed the fresh air, open spaces and wind blowing on her face.

As she always did after one of these visits, she searched for something to focus on that didn’t involve her sister, grandmother, the jail, or the damn Corwin Curse. Paris and her upcoming show consumed her thoughts for the better part of an hour until she came to the outskirts of town and saw the sign for the fall festival.

An annual event, the masquerade ball was always held in time for Halloween. The party sounded like fun. She remembered hearing about the festival from Jason. Back then he’d wished she could stick around long enough to go with him. Well, it looked like she was going to get her chance. Years too late. And she wouldn’t exactly be attending with him.

But he might be there, a small voice in her head whispered. She’d heard he was back in town from her one friend here. Lauren and Sharon Merchant, now Sharon Stern, wife of the current mayor of Perkins, had met during Lauren’s summer visits to her grandmother’s, and they’d kept in touch over the years.

Sharon was the only person she’d confided in about her relationship with Jason Corwin. She hadn’t trusted her sister, knowing Beth would run off to tell their grandmother that Lauren was consorting with the enemy. Sharon had been understanding then and she’d been understanding years later. Lauren’s grandmother and sister had blackmailed Sharon in order to try to prevent her husband, Richard, from becoming mayor, so Lauren considered herself lucky her friend didn’t extend a grudge toward Lauren by default.

Sharon would be there tonight and Lauren could surprise her by showing up. Behind a mask, of course. She’d rather observe without outing herself. The executor of her grandmother’s will told her the townspeople wouldn’t welcome her with open arms. Lauren could handle their disdain with her head held high. She hadn’t hurt anyone and she didn’t approve of her family’s behavior. Still, remaining anonymous while she took the temperature of the town, so to speak, appealed to her.

Especially if she ran into Jason. Her stomach curled deliciously and with nervous anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. Ten years was a long time and he probably wouldn’t recognize her behind a mask. She remembered him telling her no self-respecting man would wear a mask, so she’d have the opportunity to watch and observe him with anonymity.

Yes, she thought, a night out was exactly what she needed to put the depressing prison visit behind her.

Once back at the house, she searched through an old trunk in her grandmother’s attic, picking through feathers, lace and masks. She discarded the orange mask for obvious reasons and bypassed the boring blue one in search of the perfect color.

Suddenly, she found what she was looking for. The mask that called to her. The boldest color. The one destined to make an impact.

A red mask to match her red car.

JASON MILLED around the festival grounds, a stretch of farmland that had been donated to the town and dedicated as a park. Although this was an event he’d enjoyed as a kid, tonight he was uncharacteristically on edge and Clara’s prediction was to blame.

Not that he believed in tarot readings.

Yet, as he smiled at people without stopping to make conversation, the uneasy feeling remained. The fact that most wore masks didn’t help. Nor did the sheer volume of people. Almost the entire town had turned out for the evening.

“Jason, no mask? I’m disappointed.” Gabrielle, his cousin Derek’s wife, zeroed in on him, pink feathers covering her face.

If her long chestnut hair wasn’t a giveaway to her identity, her trademark stiletto heels were. His cousin was one lucky son of a bitch, but he deserved good fortune. Derek had suffered plenty before finally reclaiming his high school sweetheart and the love and family he was meant to have. As the oldest of the Corwin cousins, Derek had set a stoic example for Jason and Mike to follow. Each had held out on relationships for a long time before succumbing. As for Mike, despite a rocky start, he and his wife Amber seemed to be going strong.

Jason, on the other hand, was finished with women for anything but sex-and that was something he hadn’t had in too damn long. Five months to be exact. But now he was open to the possibility. He wasn’t desperate, never had been, and not even a self-imposed dry spell would change that. He just knew better than to expect to find someone from around here. Predictions be damned, he was a Corwin and therefore a realist.

“Jason?” Gabrielle repeated. “I asked you what happened to your mask?”

He refocused his attention on his cousin’s wife. “No self-respecting man would wear one of those things.”

“He’s got a point,” Derek said, joining them. He wasn’t sporting a mask, either.

“You two are just no fun.” Gabrielle let out a long-suffering sigh and placed her hand over her rounded stomach.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Derek asked, covering her hand with his.

“I breathed loudly,” she said, exasperated. “I didn’t moan in pain!”

Jason laughed at his cousin’s reaction.

Ever since their announcement of Gabrielle’s pregnancy, Derek had been wired. Jason didn’t blame him. Their first try had ended in miscarriage and the damn Corwin Curse hung over their heads.

Still, Jason couldn’t help but lighten the mood. “Derek, it’s going to be a long nine months if you keep this up.”

“Only five more to go,” he said, before glancing at his wife. “I’m sorry, but-”

She shook her head. “Don’t apologize. I understand. I just wish you’d relax and enjoy this as much as I am. The doctor swore the last time was a fluke, and I’m determined to believe him.”

Derek wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips.

Jason tried not to roll his eyes. It was time he made himself scarce. “Excuse me. I think I’m going to refill my beer. This one’s getting warm.” Leaving his cousin alone with his wife, he turned and started across the field.

Catching sight of his father, Thomas, Jason headed his way. “Hi, Dad.” Another Corwin man without a mask.

“I’m so glad you decided to join the party,” Thomas said.

“I could say the same to you.” Jason eyed his father warily.

Wearing dark pressed chinos and a white buttoned shirt, he was perfectly dressed. Typical Thomas, showing the outside world all was well, no matter what turmoil was going on inside. “Is Uncle Edward here?” Jason asked.

“He’s supposed to be.” Thomas glanced over his son’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

“He’s coming with Clara, isn’t he? That’s who you’re looking around for.”

Thomas had been attracted to Clara from the moment they’d met, and thanks to Corwin history, Jason was worried his father would somehow end up with his uncle Edward’s woman.

Thomas shook his head. “No. I promised I’d steer clear and let those two make their way back to each other,” he said, sounding sincere.

“Or not?” Jason guessed. “Come on, Dad. Are you waiting for Uncle Edward to blow it so you can step in and sweep Clara off her feet?”

“No. That would be too close to history repeating itself.”

“You said you never took Mom away from Uncle Edward. She chose you.” He watched his father carefully.

Thomas nodded. “It’s true. But your uncle’s psychological problems obviously go way back. He blamed me, blamed the curse. His life was a mess. So whatever happens between your uncle and Clara begins and ends with them. I’m out of it.” He raised both hands and took a step back.

Jason nodded, satisfied his father wouldn’t make a move on Clara. The older Corwin men had just begun to repair their fractured relationship. The slightest look in Clara’s direction could conceivably send Edward over the edge. “I’m proud of you, Dad. Putting Uncle Edward’s needs before your own.”

Thomas shook his head. “You’re mistaken. I’m being selfish. I need my brother, too. We both missed out on too much.”

Jason gave his father a brief hug. “The Corwins are making progress,” he said, forcing a laugh.

“Oh! There’s Hank. I think I’ll go hang with my other brother,” he said. “You go find someone your own age.” Thomas slapped Jason on the back and strode away.

Chuckling at his father, Jason headed for the beer tent, not surprised to find a line ahead of him since all beverages were being served in the same place. Settling in to wait, he leaned against the stacked bales of hay and glanced around.