Six Times a Charm

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Six Times a Charm Page 115

by Deanna Chase


  “Here’s the deal. It’s about this curse thing. Have you ever thought that maybe there is no curse? I’ve never actually known anyone with a real curse before.”

  I couldn’t lie—the thought had crossed my mind. I wished it didn’t exist, but it did. My love life served as proof.

  “A real curse? As opposed to a fake one? Listen, Jen, why can I not find a boyfriend if there is no curse? Why do all the guys I go out with disappear after the third date faster than an American Idol cast-off’s career?”

  “Maybe it’s all in your head? You know, when you think something will happen, eventually it does. That kind of thing.”

  “Believe me, I thought that at first. But you know how it is. You’ve seen with your own eyes. You can’t deny the facts.”

  “I guess…” She frowned. “But sometimes you sabotage dates.”

  “I do not.” Ever since that lake incident, she says I purposely ruin my dates. Long story, but it wasn’t my fault my date couldn’t swim. The lifeguard saved him, so everything worked out. He wasn’t my type, anyway, but Jennifer constantly threw that one little snafu in my face. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you and Todd?”

  “Honestly, Rylie, I have no idea. He doesn’t really talk to me anymore. We don’t argue. We don’t communicate at all.”

  “I’m sorry, Jen. You know you can talk to me anytime.”

  “I know. Thanks for always being there.”

  “You do the same for me. Maybe you need to tell him how you feel. Get everything out in the open.”

  She let out a deep sigh. “I know I do, but actually doing it isn’t easy. Taking that first step is so hard. We’ve been together so long. It’s familiar, you know?”

  I shook my head. “Yeah. I understand.”

  “Enough of that. You’re not getting off the subject that easily. Nice try, though. Maybe you should give one of these werewolf guys a chance. How bad can they be?”

  “If I found one I liked I would, but it wouldn’t work. It’s the curse. The curse, you know.”

  “You’re too picky.” She scowled.

  “Maybe,” I said, taking in a deep breath.

  “I bet I know a guy you wouldn’t mind doing a little bedroom tango with. A little mattress stomp, the down-and-dirty deed.” She wiggled her hips.

  “Oh, stop it. Don’t embarrass me.”

  As if on cue, Jack walked in. My jaw must have dropped to the floor. Did he hear our conversation? I needed to get that door back up pronto.

  “I gotta run. See you later.” Jennifer scrambled for her purse and flounced out the door.

  “Bye.” Jack smiled and she giggled.

  I couldn’t believe she left me to explain the conversation he had probably overheard. There I was, once again, all alone with Jack Chandler. Four times in less than twenty-four hours. Not that I complained about seeing him again, just that I’d have to clarify things.

  “I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he began. “I wanted to before, but the door thing threw me for a loop. I can imagine you were quite upset about the dog, or coyote, or whatever it was. Then I come at you like some dimwit. I’m so sorry I scared you like that. I was only trying to open the door for you. My mother always taught me to be a gentleman. At least I sure try to be one.” The words spewed from his lips in a hurry.

  “Oh no. I didn’t think that. I was just…” How would I explain to him? I had no idea what to say. I was just hiding my fluffy mitt. No, I couldn’t tell the truth.

  His intoxicating aroma swirled around the room again, and I was on a lust-induced high from it. There was no telling what I would say with that smell in the air.

  “There’s no need to explain. Please accept my apologies for acting like such a lout.”

  If that’s what he thought a lout acted like, what would he think of some of the customers I had?

  He picked up a book from my desk. “You like Stephen King?”

  “I do. What about you?”

  “I’ve read every one of his books at least twice,” he said.

  “Really? Me too.”

  Another reason to like Jack.

  “There was one other reason I stopped in.” He returned the book to its spot.

  Oh no. Perhaps he wanted to tell me he thought I needed antipsychotic medication. After all, that was his job.

  “Yes.” I used my best business voice. At least, I hoped I sounded professional.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to go out on a date.”

  “With you?”

  “Yes, I hope with me. I’m not asking for anyone else.” He laughed.

  Why did I not think before I spoke? That was such a stupid question.

  “Yes, sure, I’d like that. Sounds fabulous.”

  “Great. How about tonight? I know it’s short notice, but are you free?”

  Was I free? Yeah, you could say I was free. Free would be an appropriate term for it. The only dates I had were with clients, the non-romantic kind. So, yes, I was completely available.

  “Wait a second, let me check my schedule.” How cliché was that? But at least I wouldn’t appear to be a complete loser.

  A knock came on the doorframe. The UPS man stood there holding a package.

  “I have a package for someone by the name of Cruz. I can’t make out the first name.” He squinted and attempted to read the name again.

  “I’m Miss Cruz.” I waved my hand.

  He shuffled over, promptly plopping the box on my desk. After punching information into the electronic device, and without uttering a word, he thrust it in front of my nose, demanding a signature. He must have been in a hurry. I scribbled my name on the screen. Or at least I attempted to write it—those things never worked right.

  “Have a nice day.” The man eyed the broken door on his way out and gave me an odd glance.

  “You too,” I mumbled, wishing he’d stop staring and get the heck out.

  Jack nodded at the man and then looked at me again.

  “Do you need to open that? I can help if you want,” Jack said.

  I glanced down at the package for the first time. It was a small white box with my surname and address across the top. But there was one small detail that made my heart lurch, and I knew there was no way I could open the box in front of Jack.

  In the corner where the return address should have been was a little sketch. The artist wasn’t that talented, but it was good enough for me to discern. A werewolf head was drawn and beside it was a gun—a cryptic message for some, but not for me. I knew exactly what it meant.

  Chapter 4

  How to Date a Werewolf Rule # 4:

  Avoid giving silver jewelry as a gift.

  Jack peered at the box. He stared wide-eyed at the meticulous sketches, then lifted his gaze, focusing on me. Damn. I thought I’d get lucky and he wouldn’t notice the weird drawings. Rather than wait for him to ask, I’d offer an explanation. Not that he would ask.

  He furrowed his brow. Fantabulous. More weirdness for him to contemplate. He already had suspicions about my involvement in illegal activities. I didn’t need to add fuel to the paranormal fire. But why did he want to go on a date with me if he thought I was involved in shady behavior? Possibly he thought he’d catch me in the act.

  “My cousin, Maria, she’s a real cut-up.” I attempted to cover my nervousness with laughter. “She’s an art student and constantly doodling.” I giggled more. If I didn’t stop, he’d think I was drunk.

  He quirked a brow and I prayed he believed my fib. It wasn’t a complete lie. Maria did attend art school. Again, my lying abilities had improved, which, quite frankly, scared me slightly.

  “So, tonight? I’ll pick you up at seven?”

  I melted a little every time the sexy drawl oozed from his lips. “Sounds perfect. At least you don’t have far to travel.” I smiled. If I was dreaming, I prayed I wouldn’t wake up before the good part.

  “No, I don’t.” He chuckled. “Oh, by the way, do you have a favorite restaurant y
ou’d like to go to? I’m new in town. I haven’t had a chance to explore the city much.”

  “You moved here recently? Really? Where did you move from?”

  “Houston. Born and raised.” The gleam in his eyes said “proud Texan.”

  “What brings you to New Orleans?” Before he answered, the phone rang. Damn. Why did I actually have to work?

  “I’ll let you get the phone. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Yes, tonight. And I do have a favorite.”

  He winked and waved before strolling out.

  “Get a Mate, may I help you?” I studied Jack as he walked out my door-less office. Who knew khaki pants could look so good?

  “Ry, it’s Mama.”

  Uh-oh. My mother calling before noon could not be good. She had never been a morning person. Usually she didn’t speak in complete sentences until after one in the afternoon. Growing up, she would drive me to school asleep. Many a morning I grabbed the wheel in the nick of time when she nodded off. No doubt trouble had to be the basis for her call.

  “What’s up, Mama? Everything all right?”

  “Your father wanted me to ask if you’ve talked to Uncle Ernie. He hasn’t spoken to him for several days and some rude man called here early this morning looking for him. It really ticked me off because you know how I like my beauty sleep. After his call I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

  How could I forget she turned into a wild beast without a restful night’s sleep? No pun intended.

  “Plus, I don’t want you to forget about the pack assembly next Friday. It should be one heck of a meeting. You won’t want to miss it.”

  “Meeting? Don’t you mean party?” My pack—all werewolves belonged to one—had monthly gatherings. And let me tell you, they always turned into one heck of a bash, especially when they switched the karaoke machine to the on position.

  “It’s a meeting and you know it.”

  “All I’m saying is those crazy lycanthropes can put away some barbeque ribs and beer. To be honest, it’s a little scary to watch.”

  My parents forced me to attend these wacky get-togethers, and I begrudgingly obliged. The event was supposed to be a time when we discussed concerns and issues within the werewolf community, but that rarely happened.

  “But you’ll be there?” She produced a sniffle.

  “I got the email reminder this morning and I’ll be there.” The sniffing stopped. “Do you and Dad need a ride?”

  “No, actually, I forgot to tell you…Your father bought a new motorcycle, so we’ll be riding the bike to the meeting. It’s a brand-new Harley and so cool. The helmet messes up my hair something fierce, but your daddy looks so sexy on that bike, I can’t refuse.”

  “A motorcycle? Cool? What is wrong with you people?” I snapped.

  “Us people? First, remember we are not people. We are werewolves, and we’re your parents. So watch your tone, young lady.”

  “Don’t get technical, Mother. You know what I mean.”

  “Your father always wanted one.”

  “I always wanted a pony, that doesn’t mean I need one.”

  “Everything will be fine, Ry. Don’t fret too much. Worrying causes wrinkles.”

  “To hear you tell it, everything causes wrinkles. Remember when I was sixteen and you tried to convince me sex caused wrinkles?”

  “Don’t be sassy.”

  “Apparently that hearsay isn’t true. I’ve met a few people who would look like raisins if it were. Of course I’m not naming names.” I laughed.

  She stifled a giggle.

  “Both of you are worse than teenagers, you know? You’re driving me insane.”

  “Sweetie, I think you’ve been working too hard. I’m serious about the wrinkles. You let the least little thing bother you. Whatcha need is a vacation. Oh, I know. Come by for a massage. I bought a fabulous new table.”

  If she only knew the half of it. I wouldn’t mention my visit from the burly dude who rearranged my door. No need to worry her.

  “Oh, I need a vacation, all right. The fact of the matter is: I can’t take one. This business can’t run itself. Plus I have to keep an eye on my batty parents.”

  “I’m going to ignore your nasty comment.” She paused a moment. “So how is business?”

  I couldn’t tell her a jilted client might ruin everything I’d worked for in the blink of an eye. Her money was at stake. I didn’t want her to think I was a failure.

  “Fine.” My attempt at being cheery didn’t sound convincing.

  She hesitated, then said, “I’ll see you next Friday at the party, er, meeting. And don’t be late. You know how they hate tardiness.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you. Hopefully not in a full-body cast due to a motorcycle crash, though. Oh, and before I let you go, I want to talk to you Friday about the curse.”

  She paused again. Her steady breathing drifted across the line. Finally, she responded,

  “What about the curse? I’ve told you everything I remember. There’s really nothing left to say.”

  “I know, but I wanted to ask a few more questions, that’s all.”

  “All right, dear. Whatever you want, but like I said, I’ve told you everything I recall.”

  “Thanks, Mama. I’ll talk to you later. And please be careful.”

  “Tootles,” she chimed.

  “Yeah, yeah. Tootles to you too.” I clicked the off button, shaking my head in amazement. Why didn’t I have normal parents? A mom and dad who played golf all day and harassed me about getting married, or giving them grandchildren. They were, indubitably, not interested in my dateless life. I guess with the curse and all, they knew not to expect reproduction and family life to happen for me. Their one ray of hope lay in my brother’s hands. Well…maybe not his hands. Accidents do happen, and with his behavior, it was a distinct possibility.

  Setting down the receiver, my gaze wandered to the mysterious parcel. Why Lily hadn’t put her name on the return address was beyond me—it was obvious the package came from her. She loved drama like supermodels loved diet pills. In order to put her out of my mind and place the whole mess behind me, I decided to open the box. Self-control was not one of my strong points. I prayed a bomb wouldn’t explode the minute I tore into the darn thing.

  Rummaging through the top desk drawer, I dug out the letter opener. With one large sweep, I sliced through the tape, then pulled back the top. Pink tissue paper popped up like a perfect birthday present. Only it wasn’t my birthday. The shininess appealed to my eyes, and I couldn’t help but place my hands on the glossy, colorful tissue. I eased the paper from the box and began unwrapping. It was so light it seemed empty. When I finally reached the bottom, I saw it: a shiny silver bullet positioned in the middle of the pink tissue.

  A warning—she wanted me aware the slug would be used on my body. A pathetic attempt at scaring me. Would Lily’s behavior worsen as the full moon approached? All werewolves became feistier during that period, and she was no exception. But how much more unscrupulous would she become? I threw the scare tactic back in the box, then chucked the whole thing in the wastebasket. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

  With my client meeting still thirty minutes away, I busied myself with paperwork. Checks needed to be written, client files organized, and other mindless details. I took advantage of the few minutes of peace and quiet to take care of them.

  My office was in the middle of the oldest neighborhood in New Orleans, the French

  Quarter. Surrounded by such beautiful architecture on a daily basis reminded me how lucky I was. The building was 170 years old and had one of those cute iron balconies on the second floor overlooking the street. Of course during Mardi Gras my parents commandeered said balcony with about twenty of their werewolf friends. I skedaddled out of town during the celebration. Craziness ensued during the merriment and I didn’t want any part of their festivities. It was like the pack meetings times ten.

  As I scribbled in the account ledger, a rap on the doorframe echoed
across the room. My pen scratched across the paper when I jumped. Damn. I needed to call the handyman and get the door back up.

  “Hi. You must be Anna Primeaux? Please come in.” I stood and gestured for her to enter.

  “Hello.” Anna nodded while studying her black Mary Jane’s. She looked up at the busted door.

  Was it too much to ask for everyone to ignore the minor flaw?

  “Please take a seat.”

  Anna sidled over to the leather chair placed in front of my desk and slid down. She looked like a cat ready to run at the first sign of a canine.

  “I’m so happy you decided to go with Get a Mate.”

  She didn’t comment, but a slight smile twisted her mouth.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t say I hadn’t tried to be hospitable.

  “I have a few forms for you to fill out, then we’ll get started. I won’t take up much of your time, I promise.” I reached for the newly created file and handed it to her. She flinched and lowered her gaze to the papers. No wonder she couldn’t find a date. She seemed so bashful that a guy probably couldn’t get near her. Tapping my fingernails on my desk, I contemplated whether I’d ever find a mate for timid Anna.

  She filled out the forms, the steady rasp from her breathing and the pen scrawling across the paper as she scribbled away filling the silence. She must suffer from asthma or something.

  “I think I’m all finished,” she whispered.

  When I took the papers, her eyes widened. She stared over my shoulder. I held my breath for a second, almost afraid to turn around. What was she was gawking at?

  I took in a deep breath, then turned my head to the window. I wished I hadn’t. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled to attention. A sign bobbed up and down past the window.

  I watched in dismay as Lily paced back and forth. In one swift movement, I lifted the window to tell Lily to take a hike. Big mistake. Her rant peppered with expletives reserved specifically for me wafted through the office.

  I shoved the window down before my customer heard the next colorful phrase Lily had carefully chosen to describe me. Lily’s attacks were relentless. Worst of all, she harassed me in front of a customer.

 

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