Fortune's Surprise Engagement

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  The redhead, whose style was more boho-vintage than traditional, would look perfect in an antique gown. She twirled a long strand of copper hair around her index finger and drew in an audible breath.

  “Wow. My maid of honor is arriving and I finally get to try on my dress. I guess that means this wedding is really happening.” She put a hand on her heart. “I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

  The look of love was so evident in Dana’s sparkling blue eyes that for the briefest moment, a pang of envy stabbed at Olivia’s insides. It was an odd feeling. If given the chance, she wouldn’t change places with her sisters. She cherished her independence. Even though the thought of tying herself to one man for the rest of her life made her feel claustrophobic, she was happy for her sisters. It was the happiness that she envied.

  “I know.” Sophie swooned. Feeling like an outsider, Olivia watched Rachel and Zoe coo right along with Dana and Sophie.

  Her little sister, Sophie, and Mason Montgomery had gotten engaged in February, and just last month her brother, Kieran, had asked Dana to be his wife. Her siblings were certainly falling like flies bitten by the love bug. Olivia was the only one who hadn’t succumbed. Even so, just because she didn’t believe in the institution of marriage, it didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy for them.

  That’s precisely why she’d decided to go all out for Sophie and Dana’s bachelorette party. Olivia couldn’t resist a good party, especially when the guests of honor were women she adored and it gave her a chance to get together with her sisters Zoe and Rachel. Who, other than herself, could she trust to make sure that every detail was perfect?

  “I’m so sorry you can’t stay,” said Sophie. “Why don’t you pick up Monica and bring her back here? She could join us for dinner. As far as we’re concerned, the more the merrier. Right?”

  The sisters nodded. But Dana’s left shoulder rose and fell. “As much as I’d love to, I can’t. Monica is bound to be exhausted. But we will definitely come for brunch tomorrow, if that’s still okay.”

  “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rachel said. “I’m sure you want a chance to catch up with Monica before everyone gets swept away by the festivities leading up to the wedding. It’s going to be a busy week. And I know you want to try on your dress. I wish we could be there for that.”

  Sophie reached out and squeezed Dana’s hand. “Of course, we completely understand. Monica needs to be rested up for the wedding. This really is the calm before the storm hits.”

  Something that sounded like a cross between a squeak and a squeal escaped from Sophie and she covered her mouth with both hands. She shook her head and wrung her jittery hands, excitement rolling off her in waves. “Oh, my gosh. You’re right. It just got officially real. This time next week we will be married and dancing at our wedding reception. Maybe I should make my next Fuzzy Handcuffs a double.”

  “Good, that means you can have one for me,” Dana said. “On that note, I’d better say good-night.”

  As the four Fortune Robinson sisters took turns hugging Dana, Alejandro, who had been silent since all the wedding talk started, spoke up. “I have some work to catch up on. I, too, will leave you ladies to your festivities.”

  His gaze caught Olivia’s and lingered long enough to cause a slight shift in the room’s temperature. It was like wading into a warmer current of water.

  “Have fun,” he said. “Olivia, I’ll be in touch.”

  In reverent silence, the sisters watched Alejandro walk away.

  “Gotta love those Mendoza genes,” Rachel said under her breath.

  “Oh, yeah. Highly recommended,” Zoe said and sipped her drink. “Olivia, I think Alejandro is into you. You should go for him this week. Isn’t it a lovely coincidence that he’s Joaquin’s last single brother and you’re my last single sister?”

  Sophie squealed. “I think Alejandro would be a perfect match for Olivia.”

  Olivia could think of many worse things than “going for” Alejandro Mendoza. A wedding fling with a gorgeous Latin man? Hell, yeah. It didn’t get much better than that. Especially since he lived in Miami and she lived in Austin. That was just enough distance for a no-strings-attached fling.

  A slow heat burned deep in her belly. She threw back her drink to cool herself off. The Fuzzy Handcuffs went down way too easily.

  Yeah...but, no. Hooking up with Alejandro wasn’t a good idea. He was family. Sort of. But not really. There was no blood relation. Her sisters were married to his brothers. That in itself was a problem. If she didn’t handle the fling just right, it could get awkward at future family gatherings. And really, when was the last time she’d had a fling? Olivia liked to talk a good game, but she wasn’t into casual sex. Anyway—

  She plucked another drink from the tray and took a healthy sip.

  “This night is not about me,” she said. “It’s about our sister and her happiness.” She raised her glass high before she threw the drink back.

  “Hear, hear,” said Zoe. “I have an idea. Rather than a traditional toast, I think we should each take turns offering sweet Sophie our best words of sisterly advice for a long and happy marriage.”

  “Olivia, you go first,” Zoe said.

  Olivia frowned, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Marital advice is not exactly my department.”

  Zoe batted her words away. “Don’t be a killjoy, Liv. You know what I mean. Give her your best sisterly advice.”

  Run! Run for your life. Get out now while you can still save yourself.

  She chuckled at the thought. It was what she wanted to say, but even as tipsy as she was, she had enough good sense to know the reaction that comment would inspire in her sisters. Then she really would be the killjoy that Zoe had accused her of being. That wouldn’t do. She’d have to dig deep to come up with something.

  Of course, Zoe and Rachel and their husbands could be the poster couples for happy marriage. “You two go first. Come back to me.”

  As Rachel and Zoe spouted pearls of matrimonial wisdom, Olivia searched her soul to find something to offer—anything—that didn’t sound jaded or bitter. But her head was spinning. Either she was a lightweight or these Fuzzy Handcuffs really did pack an über-potent punch.

  That’s when she realized three sets of sisterly eyes were focused on her, waiting expectantly.

  “Guys, come on.” Was she slurring her words? Nah, she was just thirsty. Water, she needed water. She looked over and signaled for Mike to come over. He gave her a thumbs-up, which Olivia took to mean he would be there as soon as he was free. He had a couple of customers at the bar, including Alejandro Mendoza. God, he was one sexy Texan—no, wait, he was from Miami. With a vineyard in Texas. So he was sort of an honorary Texy sexan...uhh, a sexy Texan. Whatever. He certainly was the best of both worlds: a head for business and a body for sin.

  A body she really wouldn’t mind taking for a test drive, she thought as she watched him sitting at the bar sipping his beer and doing something on his phone.

  “Olivia!” Zoe demanded. “Earth to Olivia. We’re waiting for you.”

  “Come on, Zo. You know I’m the worst person to ask about this. I don’t believe in love.”

  She tried to wave them away, but realized that gesture probably looked as sloppy as she felt right now.

  “How can you not believe in love?” Sophie pressed. Her voice went up an octave at the end of the sentence. “Everyone believes in love. I mean, what kind of a world would this be if people didn’t believe in love?”

  Rachel, who was still holding her first drink, shot Olivia a look. “You might want to slow down a bit, too. You’re starting to be a bit of a buzzkill, Liv.”

  Oh, first she was a killjoy. Now she was a buzzkill?

  “You want a buzzkill? I’ll give you a buzzkill. I’m happy for the three of you, that you think you’ve
found your soul mates. How fabulous for you. But just because it works for you, doesn’t mean love and marriage are for me.”

  “It’s because you’re too guarded,” Zoe said. “Of course you’re not going to find love with that attitude. You have to open your heart before love can find you.”

  Rachel and Sophie nodded earnestly.

  Olivia snorted. “Please tell me you’re not going to start singing ‘Kumbaya’ in three-part harmony.”

  She rolled her eyes and when she did, she saw Alejandro looking in her direction. She looked away fast.

  “I just don’t understand why you feel that way,” Sophie said in a small voice.

  Olivia should’ve left it alone. She should’ve just made up something that sounded warm and fuzzy. Grabbed the first thing off the top of her head, something about love being the merging of two souls and blah, blah, blah, and tossed it at her sisters.

  But they kept pressing her about why.

  Why? Why? Why?

  “You want to know why I don’t believe in love? I’ll tell you. Love is a crock. Every single guy I’ve dated has had some ulterior motive for dating me. They’ve wanted money or wanted a job or thought our father could make them rich by buying the app they’ve designed. They didn’t want me as much as they wanted a piece of Robinson Enterprises.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been dating the wrong guys,” Rachel said.

  It was probably true, but there was something in Rachel’s tone that sounded so judgmental. It was the last straw.

  “And that’s only half of it.” Olivia leaned in and set her empty glass on the cocktail table. “The other reason is our parents. Their marriage is a mess. It’s a phony sham of a relationship. I don’t know why they stay together, because they hate each other. They are slowly but steadily eating each other alive. Anyone with good sense would take a clue from them and realize all relationships are doomed.”

  “But they’re still together,” Sophie said.

  Olivia shrugged. “Why are they still together? They don’t love each other. Even if they did, what about the general state of society? Fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce and the other fifty percent—like our parents—make each other so miserable that divorce probably seems like a preferable option. And that’s why I can see no reason to yearn for a doomed institution. On that note, why don’t we go get something to eat?”

  Her sisters sat stock still, silently staring at her. Rachel looked irritated. Zoe looked shell-shocked and Sophie looked like she was about to burst into tears.

  Uh-oh. Obviously she’d gone too far.

  “Look, you asked.” She softened her tone. “That’s why I didn’t want to get into it.”

  All three were still frozen in their seats. The only thing that moved was the tears meandering down Sophie’s cheeks.

  Crap.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I understand that y’all are newlyweds—even you, Rach. So your relationships are still shiny and new—”

  Now Sophie was shaking her head.

  Sometimes it was as if she was the only one in her family who didn’t have their head in the clouds. Maybe being the one with a clear head and common sense was her burden. If so, she could deal with it more easily than she could deal with a broken heart. She was a realist when it came to love—it never lasted. Her parents were living proof. Why should she fool herself into believing it would turn out otherwise for herself? Nope. She would save herself the heartache and focus on her career, which was in her control.

  “I’m really sorry,” Olivia said. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

  “Yes, you did.” Sophie’s voice broke and she stood up abruptly. “I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

  “No, Soph. Come on. We need to get something to eat. I’ve made us a reservation at the Driskill Grill. I’m sure they can seat us early. Come on—”

  “No.” Sophie took off.

  Her sister had barely cleared the bar when Zoe said, “I’ll go check on her.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Olivia offered.

  “No,” Zoe and Rachel said in unison.

  “Stay here,” Zoe said.

  “Bring her back,” Olivia said. “It’s Saturday night. It’s her bachelorette party. We’re supposed to have dinner. And then right after dinner, we’re supposed to have fun.”

  “And clearly not a minute sooner,” Rachel said under her breath, but Olivia heard her loud and clear.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” she said.

  Rachel shrugged. “Look, Olivia, I know you mean well, but why did you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Your down-with-marriage campaign was harsh. Even you have to admit it wasn’t your best moment.”

  She covered her eyes with both palms. “I know. I already said I’m sorry. These Fuzzy Handcuffs are stronger than I realized. I think I’m a little drunk.”

  “Ya think?”

  As if right on cue, Mike delivered another round of five Fuzzy Handcuffs.

  “Who ordered these?” Olivia asked.

  “I thought you wanted another round when you signaled me a few minutes ago.”

  “No, I need water.”

  “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Well, these are on the house. I’ll bring you some water.”

  Rachel stood.

  “Where are you going?” Olivia asked.

  “I’m going to go check on Sophie and Zoe.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, stay here and drink some water.”

  “Will you please bring them back so we can go to dinner? I think we’re all hungry. That’s probably why the drinks hit us so hard.”

  Rachel sighed. “I’ll try. I’ll text you and let you know what Sophie is up for. Okay?”

  As her sister walked away, Olivia sat down on the love seat. She’d already said too much tonight. The best thing she could do was give her sisters some space.

  Fifteen minutes later, Rachel texted:

  Sophie’s asleep. Zoe is on the phone with Joaquin and frankly, I’m exhausted. I think it would be best if we call it a night and start fresh with the brunch tomorrow morning.

  I’m sorry I ruined the night. I feel so bad.

  Not your fault. I think the reality of the wedding is finally hitting Sophie. She’ll be fine tomorrow.

  Olivia wasn’t mad; she was frustrated. This wasn’t the way tonight was supposed to turn out—her sister in tears and the evening going up in flames.

  Okay, maybe she was a little bit irritated. Why had they pushed her? Why had she been so weak as to give in? Sophie’d get over it. They’d be fine, but she needed to stay away until they all cooled off.

  Olivia texted her again:

  I’ll be up after I get something to eat. Want me to bring you something?

  Thanks, but no. I’m going to talk to Matteo and then I’ll call it a night. Are you okay? Do you just want to come up to the suite and order room service?

  It dawned on Olivia that her married sisters missed their husbands. Melancholy pushed at Olivia’s heart. As she looked up from her phone, thinking about how to answer, she caught Alejandro Mendoza looking at her. This time she didn’t look away.

  She had plenty of drinks in front of her and a reservation for dinner for four that was about to become dinner for two. Olivia texted: I’m fine.

  And she was about to get a whole lot better.

  * * *

  Alejandro couldn’t hear what the Fortune Robinson sisters were talking about on the other side of the bar, but one minute they’d been toasting, raising their Fuzzy Handcuffs high, and the next it looked like they were arguing.

  He shouldn’t have been watching them. They were out for a girls’ night, which appeared innocent enough, but what man in his right mind
could’ve kept his eyes off such a collection of beauties? They were like magnets. He couldn’t help but steal glances their way. His brothers were lucky men. Sophie would soon be married. What about Olivia? No doubt he’d meet the fortunate dude who’d claimed her heart at the wedding.

  They’d seemed oblivious to him even as one by one they’d gotten up and left the party. First, Sophie left looking upset, followed by Zoe looking concerned. And finally Rachel, looking like a mother hen.

  Olivia was the only one who remained. She’d been sitting alone for a solid five minutes staring at the tray of drinks the bartender had delivered shortly before the mass exodus. Maybe her sisters were coming back? Maybe she could use some company until they did. Alejandro stood, slid his phone into his shirt pocket and went over to Olivia.

  “Is the party over already?” he asked.

  She blinked up at him as if he’d startled her out of deep thought—or deep, stubborn brooding, based on her irritated expression. That full bottom lip of hers stuck out a little more than he remembered from when he saw her at his brothers’ weddings.

  As she gazed up at him, she pulled it between her teeth for a pensive moment before she spoke.

  “May I ask you a question, Alejandro?” She slurred her words ever so slightly.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you believe in love?”

  “Is that a trick question?” He laughed and cocked his right brow in a way that always seemed to get him out of tight spots and trick questions like this one.

  Answering questions about love qualified as a very tight spot, because the last thing he wanted to do right now was get into a debate about affairs of the heart with a woman who’d had too many Fuzzy Handcuffs. In his experience, drunk women pondering love were usually vulnerable women, especially when their sisters were all married or in the process of getting hitched.

  “No, it’s not a trick question,” Olivia said. “In fact, it’s a fairly straightforward yes-or-no query. You either believe in love or you don’t. So what’s it going to be, Alejandro? Yes or no?”

  Wow. Olivia Fortune Robinson was a force. An intense force. And he could see that she wasn’t going to let him off the hook without a satisfactory answer. The problem was, he didn’t want to talk about love.