Carly Phillips - Lucky Charm

Gabrielle patted her hand. They’d discussed this all afternoon and neither woman had come up with any solid answer. They’d just have to see how the evening went.

Gabrielle turned back to George. “Actually, I met Mary the other night. She attended the lecture at the library.”

“And? What was your impression?”

“She was extremely polite. She even brought a book for me to sign. She didn’t seem upset by the fact that I was discussing something so personal to her family.”

“That’s Mary, all right. Saying one thing, plotting another,” George said. “Watch your back.”

“Dad, I’m not sure you should be telling tales.” Seth had come back to check on them.

“They’re only tales if they aren’t true. I’m giving her facts and you know it.” George waved a hand, dismissing his son’s concerns before turning back to Gabrielle.

“If Seth doesn’t want you talking about her-”

“What I want and what Dad does have never been the same thing,” Seth said.

George laughed. “Go back to mixing drinks,” he said to his son. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. There’s one word to describe Mary’s attitude,” he said in a low voice. “Entitlement.” He shook his head. “Never seen anything like it.”

Gabrielle took a sip of her drink and listened. George was a gold mine of information.

“Here’s an example of what I’m talking about. Every year Mary comes into my bar and requests the use of the back room for her weekly staff meeting. She says she likes to keep morale high among her workers by feeding them. That’s a crock, though.” He shook his head. “More like she wants to keep an eye on ’em after hours and eavesdrop while they talk. Anyway, she always comes in like she owns the place. Then, sweet as sugar, she says that since I want to show town loyalty, she’s sure I won’t mind giving her use of the room. Giving.” He slammed his hand against the wooden bar. “Like I wasn’t earning a living for myself and my son.”

Gabrielle leaned forward on her elbows, closer to the other man. “So how do you handle her?”

“I tell her the fee for the room and the other costs. She reminds me that karma won’t look kindly on me and I wave her on her way. But I own this land and always have. She can’t do anything to me or my family, so I’m not scared of her. Wish I could say the same for some others.” He glanced at Seth, who spoke to the patron a few bar stools down from Gabrielle, then leaned closer. “But Seth gave in and damned if she doesn’t come here weekly. For free.” He scowled.

Interesting, Gabrielle thought. “Did Seth ever say why?” she asked softly.

George nodded. “He says it pays to do favors for people in high places. I don’t agree. He’s just caving like everybody else. For people who rent instead of own their homes? There’s a strong likelihood Mary’s family owns the real estate, so they cave in to whatever she asks. Miller’s Pharmacy? It was forced to close their doors just last year. A big-brand joint opened up not one month later.”

Gabrielle ran her finger over the rim of her drink, thinking about the situation, wondering if George was giving Mary’s power too much credit. “Unfortunately, a lot of mom-and-pop businesses aren’t making it anymore.”

George shook his head, dismissing the notion. “That may be true in some areas, but it’s different around here. A big chain came sniffing around and the Millers told them to take a hike. It’s not about money. Miller’s was a family-run business and had been for generations. They didn’t want to sell. Next thing you know, the landlord invokes some clause in their lease to increase their rent.” He snapped his fingers in the air. “In no time the Millers are gone. Mom and Pop Miller are out, Big Name is in.”

“And Mary Perkins owns the land?” Gabrielle guessed.

“A corporation owns the land. I bet a search of the records would show the Perkins family owns the corporation, but nobody looked. Nothing illegal was done. Immoral? You betcha. But Mary pulled some fancy PR by giving Mrs. Miller a clerical job in the mayor’s office and CVS hired Mr. Miller as their manager.”

“You’re telling tales,” Seth chimed in.

Gabrielle hadn’t realized Seth had still been listening. “Some things are fact. Others are just hunches. There’s nothing wrong with him answering my questions,” she said, defending George. She glanced at the older man and lowered her voice. “But we can drop it since it makes Seth uncomfortable.”

George winked at her. “Well, as much as I enjoy talking to you, he signs the checks.” George gestured to his son with his elbow. “I’d better get busy with other customers,” he said aloud. Then he added more quietly, “But if you want any more ‘hunches,’ you know where to find me.”

Gabrielle smiled. “Thank you so much, George. You’ve been a huge help.”

He inclined his head. “Good luck with your book.”

“Thank you,” she said. But her mind was already focused on what came next tonight.

She placed a hand on Sharon’s shoulder. Next up, they’d deal with the blackmailer.

Then if all went well, the night was about to belong to Gabrielle and Derek.

THE BLUE NEON LIGHTS surrounding the dance floor matched the aqua-blue of the Wave’s logo and decor. From the beat of the music to the welcome sign over the bar, everything at the Wave was customer friendly. Everything except their reason for being there, Sharon thought.

She’d sat beside Gabrielle and half listened as she’d questioned George and then some of the cocktail staff about Mary Perkins and their feelings on old curses. Sharon couldn’t help her friend. She couldn’t think about anything but those photographs and a time in her life she thought she’d put behind her forever. That, and what would happen if those pictures became public.

Because they’d arrived so early, she and Gabrielle had been able to snag an empty table with a good view of the front door and the bar.

For the umpteenth time, Sharon glanced at her watch.

Gabrielle treated her to an understanding smile. “Within half an hour, we’ll know something,” Gabrielle assured her.

“Right.” She nodded and began drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

“You know, it isn’t too late to call the police in on this,” Gabrielle whispered.

“No!” Telling the police wasn’t any different than making the photos public. Sharon knew that from previous experience.

“Then at least tell Richard.”

“I can’t.” Sharon glanced down.

Every time Richard mentioned how good she was for him or for his campaign, her heart did a little flip. She didn’t want to disappoint him and she definitely didn’t want to ruin his political chances.

“What’s going on? Is this about more than his campaign?” Gabrielle asked. “Come on. It’s me. You can tell me anything.” Gabrielle placed her hand over Sharon’s. She found the warmth comforting.

Sharon drew in a deep breath. “Richard loves me and accepts me for who I am and he knows what happened with Tony.”

“But?”

“He’s…uptight, you know?”

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows. “Sexually?”

“It’s hard to explain. He’s such a good man. He’s sweet and gentle.” Her throat filled up as she spoke about the man she was supposed to marry.

After Tony, she’d felt so stupid, so dirty. Some therapy and a solid family had brought her pretty far, but her relationship with Richard had helped heal her the rest of the way. He treated her like a china doll he wanted to love and protect forever. She was so afraid of losing him and the life they planned together.

“Those are all good things about Richard. I’ve seen you two together. He obviously adores you. He isn’t going to hold something he already knew about against you.” Gabrielle squeezed Sharon’s hand tighter.

“It’s one thing for him to know a man I trusted took advantage of me,” she whispered. “It’s another for him to see it firsthand. Especially for a man who is as conservative as Richard. I’m afraid he’ll never look at me the same way again.” Sharon’s voice caught. Despite her best efforts, a tear fell and she brushed it away with the back of her hand.

“I really don’t think you’re giving Richard enough credit. A man who loves you as much as he does will do anything to keep you.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. “You’re a good friend.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “Listen, let’s get through tonight and I’ll think about telling Richard. Okay?”

Gabrielle nodded with a short jerk of her head. “Okay.”

“Hey, ladies, you’re both looking exceptionally beautiful tonight,” Derek said as he strode up to their table.

Despite her position facing the front door, Sharon had been so engrossed in conversation, she hadn’t even seen Derek come in.

“What are you doing here?” Realization dawned and Sharon looked from Derek to Gabrielle. “You promised to keep this between us,” Sharon said, feeling betrayed.

Gabrielle’s cheeks flushed red. “No, I promised to keep it from Richard. I never said I wouldn’t tell Derek.”

Sharon closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Come on. Don’t tell me you aren’t more comfortable knowing we have backup in case it’s necessary,” Gabrielle said, her voice close to Sharon’s ear.

She exhaled slowly and forced herself to think. “You’re right,” she said at last. “I feel better knowing we’re not alone,” she admitted. She lifted her head and faced her friends.

Derek placed his hand on the back of her chair and leaned in close. “Your secret’s safe with me. And so are you.” Since there were no empty chairs, he stood beside Gabrielle and gestured to the cocktail waitress weaving between tables and crowds. “We’ll get you through this,” Derek promised her.

She wanted to believe him.

“Ladies? Drinks?” Derek asked.

“I’m fine.” Sharon pointed to the half-empty glass on the table. It was already watered down from the ice and she wasn’t interested in another. She just wanted this night to be over with.

She glanced at her watch. Another fifteen minutes to go and even then she didn’t have any sort of plan.

She rose from her seat. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Gabrielle pushed back her chair, ready to be Sharon’s shadow.

“No.” Sharon waved her hand. “Sit back down and relax. I’ll be fine. Derek, take my chair, please,” she said, walking away.

“Hurry back,” Sharon heard Gabrielle call to her.

Sharon headed through the crowd, which was marginally younger than she was, and definitely hipper. She found the ladies’ room down a long hallway and was about to push open the door when someone jostled into her.

She whirled around, her heart beating hard in her chest, and bumped into a woman exiting.

“I’m sorry. I tripped,” the woman said as she righted herself.

“No problem. Are you okay?” Sharon asked.

“I’m fine.”

Sharon walked inside, heading for the mirror and sink area.

Alone, she leaned both hands against the counter and blew out a long stream of air. God, she had to calm down. She consoled herself with the thought that soon enough, this would all be over.

She just wished she knew when.

GABRIELLE KNEW SHE HAD just a small window of time alone with Derek before Sharon returned, the drama of the evening with her.

“I appreciate you being here. So does Sharon despite how she’s acting. She’s a nervous wreck,” Gabrielle said.

“I can’t say I blame her. I’m just glad you don’t have to face it alone.”

She nodded in agreement.

“But Sharon needs us sitting here with her. I don’t think you’re going to get that dance you wanted after all,” he said, not sounding too disappointed. But she was.

“I guess it wasn’t realistic to think we could have a romantic evening while Sharon was being blackmailed.” She’d just wanted to feel Derek’s arms around her again. She needed him to pull her close and press his cheek against hers while they moved to the beat of the music.

The collar on his polo shirt was crooked. She reached out to adjust it and her hand skimmed the razor stubble on his jaw. At the simple touch, her skin tingled and her body burned.

Instead of pulling her hand away, she caressed his jaw, giving him exactly the signal she wanted to send. “Maybe we can’t dance here, but there are other places,” she said, her voice ripe with innuendo.

His eyes darkened in understanding. Her body craved intimacy and closeness with him in the most basic way.

“I’m back,” Sharon said, joining them again.

Gabrielle pulled back. She glanced at Sharon and smiled.

Derek rose from his seat, insisting Sharon take it again.

The rest of the night passed in a drawn-out blur of drinks that turned into diet sodas after a while and anxious conversation from eight until 11:00 p.m. Three hours later, they finally had to accept the fact that nobody was coming to contact Sharon.