by Baird, Ginny
“Whoohoo!”
Nanette smiled broadly. “You, baby, are going to be famous.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” She glanced at Richard, not knowing what to say.
“If you’ll give them permission to shop your work, they think they can make a deal for you. High six figures for the entire fantasy series. Ventura, do you know what this means?”
She numbly shook her head, overwhelmed by the magic of the moment.
“That you could write full-time.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. “You mean, doing something I love? Like telling my stories.” That seemed almost too good to be true.
“That’s exactly what I mean.” He reached up and stroked back her tears, and Nanette sighed loudly. “But first, you’ll have to sign on the dotted line.”
“I’ll do it,” Ventura said, her heart soaring.
Richard met her eyes. “I need you to understand, there are no guarantees. We’ll have to wait awhile and see what comes through.”
“I understand that.” Ventura swallowed hard. “But what good is life if you can’t take chances?”
For Ventura, the next few weeks didn’t seem nearly as dreary. She’d finally learned to make the coffee and had been given a few more copy editing assignments, which she’d handled well. It was good to see a light at the end of the tunnel and imagine her work at the Globe wouldn’t always involve darkness. The people were good here and helpful in moving folks along. Mary had already arranged for her to meet with an associate editor in the City Desk department, and he’d appeared impressed by Ventura’s credentials. Still, it was hard to fight the lure of fantasizing about a day job that allowed her to create her own worlds and let her spirit run free.
She was sitting at her desk, working on an article revision, when her cell phone buzzed. She checked the number, seeing the call came from New York. Ventura held her breath, praying this was the call she’d dreamed of.
“Hello?” she said, picking up.
“Ventura?” It was Leon, her literary agent from Manhattan. “I hope you’re sitting down.”
Her heart beat faster. “I am,” she said with a happy gasp.
“Because you, sweetheart, are about to make us loads of dough.”
Ventura squealed, and heads swung in her direction. She spun her chair to face the coffeemaker and lowered her voice. “What’s up, Leon?”
“We’re talking a bidding war. A big advance. And if sales go as they’re expected to, maybe even film rights down the line, audio. The whole shebang. They loved that whole spiel about the warrior princess following a quest based on fortune cookies.” He blew a breath. “I hope you don’t owe anyone money.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because they’re going to come collecting on their IOUs.”
Ventura blinked as the coffee dripped into its clouded carafe. “What are you saying?”
“You’ll be making more moola than a twenty-five-year-old has a right to. Not that I’m complaining. I get fifteen percent.”
“And you’re worth every dollar,” she said.
“That underwater castle thing?” he told her. “That was genius. And the role reversals with the girls taking on the traditional male roles? Yeah, that sold big. But here’s what I don’t get,” he said in his deep Queens accent. “How it is they’ve got Chinese take-out under the sea?”
Ventura laughed happily. “You have to write what you know, Leon,” she said, grinning broadly. “Write what you know.”
Later that night, she, Mary and Nanette sat around, drinking champagne.
“I’m going to hate losing you at the paper,” Mary said sadly, “but in my heart, I’m happy you’re on your way.”
Nanette grew misty-eyed. “And I’m going to miss having you around here.”
“Nobody says I’m leaving.”
“Come on, Ventura,” Mary told her. “We can see the writing on the wall. You’ll be making way more than you need to live in this place. You can go upscale! A place at the Watergate!”
“But I like it here,” Ventura protested. There was no place she’d rather live. At least on this side of the Potomac. Her phone rang, and she saw it was Richard.
“I’m calling to congratulate you.”
“Thanks so much. None of this would have happened without you.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said. “You might have taken a different path, but you would have gone that same way eventually. I’m sure of it.”
“Ricky and Elisa were a big inspiration.”
“The kids miss you.”
“I miss them too.”
“We all miss you.” There was a pause on the line; then his voice rose in a question. “Ventura? I was hoping to take you out to dinner to celebrate. I mean, you’re not working for me now. And well… I hope you don’t mind, but Jason told me you’re no longer seeing Charles.”
Ventura stared at Mary, who innocently turned away.
“That would be nice,” she said.
“Can I pick you up on Saturday at seven?”
“Seven sounds fine,” Ventura said with a grin.
Nanette and Mary exchanged knowing glances.
“He finally asked you out?” Mary said, sounding pleased.
Ventura nodded, still over the moon herself. She was going out on a date with a man she was crazy about. Head-over-heels crazy about. Now, all she had to do was think up something to wear.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Nanette said sweetly. “We’ll help you get ready.”
“Oh, no you won’t!” Ventura said with a laugh. “I know you both mean well, and Mary, your fashion advice is the best. But, girlfriends, the Ventura Hart you see sitting before you today is not the one who walked in here all those weeks ago. I’m a new woman, my own woman. And, trust me on this,” she said with a wink. “I know just what Richard likes.”
Mary and Nanette stared at her, both of them beaming from ear to ear.
“Well, well,” Mary said, raising her flute of champagne. “Here’s to the new Ventura!” She paused a beat to study her. “Now that you mention it, it’s true. You are dressing better.” She brought a hand to her chin. “But in your style, not mine.”
Nanette nodded approvingly and also lifted her glass. “I like it!”
Ventura smiled and flipped back her hair. “Why, thanks,” she said, merrily clinking their glasses. “And here’s to both of you, my very best friends on earth. Thanks for sticking with me in the journey.”
A tear glistened in the corner of Mary’s eye. “I’ll always stand by you, Ventura.”
“Yeah,” Nanette said, swallowing hard. “Me too.”
Ventura’s heart brimmed with affection for the two of them. For the first time in her life, she knew what having a mother and sister felt like. She set down her glass and stretched her arms out wide. “Aw, come here,” she urged the two of them. They put down their drinks as well to join her in a group hug, where they all giggled and cried and said how much they loved each other…until they finally decided to open another bottle of champagne.
Chapter Twelve
The following Saturday, Ventura and Richard strolled along the path beside the Tidal Basin. The moon rose high above, casting its reflection on the water as warm breezes blew, strumming through the cherry trees. They’d had a delicious dinner at an Argentinian restaurant: enormous grilled steaks with a wonderful bottle of wine. The conversation had flowed easily. Perhaps because they already knew each other so well. Although in some ways this was their first date, in many ways it wasn’t. Ventura and Richard had been getting to know one another for quite some time. They not only shared a friendship, but a powerful mutual attraction as well. An attraction that each of them had been fighting for far too long. With the barriers that had existed between them removed, being with Richard was exhilarating. Ventura felt herself warm through and through at the thought that someone could treat her so specially. Richard made her feel just like a fairy-tale princess, and no one had made her feel t
hat way in a while.
“Thanks for the dinner,” she told him. “It was fabulous.”
He stopped walking to look in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re having fun. Thanks for coming out with me.”
If only he knew. She’d go out with him anywhere. At any time.
“Are you chilly?” he asked as the wind picked up.
“Not a bit,” she said, holding his gaze. His face was darkly handsome, haunted by shadows and the moonlight as faraway streetlamps cast a tender glow.
He turned toward her and stepped closer. “It might make me sound like a jerk, but I’m awfully glad you stopped seeing Charles.”
Ventura’s pulse whipped into overdrive while her cheeks burned. “I couldn’t keep seeing him,” she breathed. “Not when I’d developed feelings for someone else.”
He smiled softly, cupping her face in his hands. “Someone?”
Ventura fell into his eyes, dark canyons that spoke of heat and fire. She nodded, and he stroked her cheek. “That’s pretty amazing. I developed feelings for someone too.” He pulled her closer then, taking her in his arms.
Ventura tilted up her chin as his mouth moved in. She’d wished for this moment for weeks now, but somehow had never thought it would come.
“Would you mind if I kissed you?” he asked, his voice husky.
She brushed her lips to his in acquiescence and he pulled her close, holding her firmly up against him as he devoured her mouth with his. Ventura felt lost in his kiss as her heart pounded faster. He was so warm and tender, yet passionate at once. And his passion was headily intoxicating. So intoxicating she only felt herself wanting more.
“Ventura,” he said between kisses. “Come away with me.”
She pushed back to gaze in his eyes. “Where?”
“I’d like you to meet Gloria.”
“Your boat?” she asked with a delighted laugh.
He shot her a hopeful look. “Next Saturday? I can pick you up at four. We’ll spend the whole evening on the water.”
Ventura couldn’t imagine anything more romantic. “Sounds perfect.”
The next week, Mary and Jason scuttled down into the hold of Richard’s boat. Jason passed Mary a warm bag of Chinese food as she smiled at the children. They were all wearing life vests. “Now remember,” she told Ricky and Elisa. “As quiet as church mice. Not a word.”
Elisa made a zipper motion across her lips, and Ricky followed.
“Good,” Mary said, sending Jason a smile. “Now all we do is wait.”
As they approached the slip, Ventura saw the word Gloria painted on the gorgeous twenty-eight-foot boat. “She’s a beauty.”
“She’d become a little worn from neglect,” Richard confessed. “But I’ve spent a good deal of time here lately fixing her up.”
“You were too busy to sail for a while?”
“I was too down to sail for a while,” he told her honestly. “Let’s say Vicky leaving kicked the wind of me.” He held out his hand to help her aboard. “But it’s okay. I’ve come back full steam now.”
Ventura stepped unsteadily aboard and the boat rocked. “I don’t know a thing about sailing.”
“That’s all right. Just follow my lead.”
“Will I have to call you captain?” she teased with a grin.
“Only if you want to.”
Her hair was long and loose, curly just the way he liked it. Richard had taken nearly a month planning this out, and after their date the previous weekend, he was certain he was doing the right thing. There was no one he wanted in his life more than Ventura. She was right for him. In a very special way, she was right for all of them. And not just as the nanny. The moment she’d left their house to take that job at the paper, he’d realized that.
He opened a bench seat and pulled out two life jackets. “Safety first,” he said, sliding one over her head.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, her dark eyes sparkling.
“I like the sound of that,” he said with a wink.
Ventura looked around as he readied the riggings. “Huh, that’s weird.”
“What?”
“For the life of me, I thought I smelled sesame chicken.”
“Probably just the salt air,” he said, hoisting up a sail.
Ventura wrinkled her nose. “You’re probably right.”
Within a half an hour, the main sail had filled and Richard had raised a colorful spinnaker before it. Ventura leaned back against a railing, enjoying the ride.
“I can see why you like it out here. It’s exciting and calming at once.”
“We’ve got the perfect day for this. Tailor-made.” He glanced up at the sky and leaned into the wind. “Heads up, Ventura. She’s coming around!”
“Who?” she asked as the heavy boom swung in her direction.
“Richard!” she yelped, ducking under the swing of the main sail while he cupped her head in his hand to protect it.
“You need to keep your head low when that happens.”
“Now you tell me,” she said, nearly breathless.
They clambered up on the other side of the boat and positioned themselves on the bench seat as Richard maneuvered the sheets. “We’ll pull into that cove over there and anchor awhile,” he told her, shifting the rudder ever so slightly to steer their craft in that direction.
Ventura was glad to be with someone who was knew what he was doing on the water, for she was lost completely. She’d never understood how much skill and finesse it took to captain a boat until she’d come here with Richard. She stared at him, handsomely in command of his craft, and her heart welled with emotion. She adored so many things about him. How well he did in business, the love he had for his children… The admiration he’d shown for her. Winds rippled and he met her gaze. “I hope you’re having a good time.”
“I’m having the best time.”
“That’s good.” He steered the boat into a cove with a mysterious grin. “Let’s hope it gets even better.”
Sweat dribbled down Ventura’s chest and pooled in her cleavage beneath her snug cotton shirt. They were anchored in the cove, and their main sail was down. “You should have told me to bring a swimsuit.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it.” Richard cracked open a cooler and handed her an ice-cold beer. “I had a lot of other things on my mind.”
“Gosh,” Ventura said, looking around. “I can still smell it.”
“Must be the algae,” Richard offered helpfully. “Smells just like friend wontons.”
“Really?” she asked with incredulity.
Richard fidgeted with his beer bottle, then met her eyes. “I’d like to propose a toast. To you and your literary success!”
“Why, thanks,” she said, clinking his bottle. “Here’s to you having a part in it.”
“A very small part.”
“You’re just being modest.”
They both drank then an awkward silence settled in, as gulls called noisily overhead. Richard took their beers and set them in holders. “I’m really happy about your book deal,” he said as sunshine warmed her hair. “Really happy about everything.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“I don’t want you to think that I haven’t thought about this, because I have—in excruciating detail.”
“It was painful?” she asked, perplexed.
He stunned Ventura by reaching into a net storage compartment and extracting a small gift. “It’s only going to hurt if you say no.” He handed her the present and her heart pounded faster. Could she really hope he’d picked out something special just for her? And, if that something was tied to a question, it might mean… Ventura stopped herself, not even daring to wish for it. She’d wanted Richard for so long, it seemed impossible to believe that he might want her too. In a lasting way. A way that meant forever. Ventura’s lips quaked as she spoke.
“Should I open it?”
“I wish you would.”
Ventura slipped off the silky red ribbon then unwrapped the pr
etty white package. She lifted the lid off the box, finding a cellophane-wrapped fortune cookie nestled inside.
“What’s this?”
“Ventura Hart,” he said, meeting her eyes, “from the moment I met you, I knew you were different. You made an impression on me the first night we met and then again on the Metro. The funny thing is, I bet you didn’t believe me when I said I had this.”
He pulled a small icon from his pocket and displayed it in his palm. It was a real four-leaf clover, wrapped securely in clear scotch tape.
“You weren’t kidding?” she asked, delighted.
“I found this when I was eight years old. It was the year that Jenny was born. My parents were so happy then. Our whole world was golden. That was before my mom got sick, and Dad lost his way.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her heart aching for him.
“But that’s not why I’m telling you this. It’s not to bring you down. It’s to assure you that my hanging on to this meant I understood this sign was hopeful. I remember, Ventura, what a happy home life was like. I always wanted that for myself, and now…” He paused a beat. “I want it with you. We’re right for each other, you and I. Two crazy, superstitious people who, on the outside, appear so levelheaded and together. But on the inside, we both want to believe in the same thing. That there’s someone special out there for us, our missing other half.”
She looked down at the fortune cookie, a lump welling in her throat. Richard nodded in encouragement and she ripped open the cellophane, popping the tiny crescent apart. Her fingers trembled as they held the fortune and she read it aloud. “You are doomed to be happy in wedlock. I can’t believe that you found this,” she said, meeting his eyes.
“I didn’t,” he replied with a soulful look. “I had it made.”
“You what?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “But why?”
“You had it with you that day on the train. The fortune was brittle. I could tell you’d had it for a while. Nobody carries something like that around unless it means something to them. Now, I know—to most folks—doomed might sound like a bad thing…” His eyes sparkled. “But something tells me you didn’t take it that way.”