Lucky Number Four

by Amanda Jason

  For my friends and family, who have all been my biggest supporters through this entire process. Without them I would never have been able to follow my dream of writing my first novel.

  © Copyright 2013 by Amanda Jason (AKA Carol Kunz of C.A. Kunz).

  Published by C.A. Kunz LLC at Smashwords

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  C.A. Kunz, LLC

  Orlando, Florida

  Where do I start? I guess at the beginning with my Mum and Dad, because if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be here. Their love and support have helped me make it through all the bad times, and they’ve always been there to help me celebrate the good times.

  Very special thanks to my husband, Bob, for all of his love and support throughout this entire process. Oh, and of course without him there would be no Stephanie (my daughter), Adam (my son), or the twins (Amanda and Jason).

  Big thanks should go to my son Adam. He came to me in the spring of 2010 to ask me if I wanted to write a Young Adult/Middle Grade book, and I immediately jumped at the chance. Writing a book was number one on my bucket list, and he knew that. We’ve written three books together under the pen name C.A. Kunz, but then took a break to write our own novels. When I decided to write Lucky Number Four, Adam was behind me one hundred percent, and even though we weren’t writing it together, he was there any time I needed to vent about where the story was going, and I’m ever-so-thankful for his help. What else can I say about my son, Adam? Well, he’s my rock, he inspires me to carry on, and he’s my hero. I’m truly blessed to have a son like him! Thank you, son, for giving your Mom her dream.

  On this journey I’ve met some truly AWESOME people, people I hold dear to my heart, and it would take a whole book to name them all. So, THANK YOU everyone that I’ve met on this journey, and yes, this means YOU!

  I do have some special people that I really do need to mention. These ladies gave up their time to help me with extensive editing and suggestions. They are Megan Bagley, Misty Provencher, Hollie Westring, and Raine Thomas. A thank you is truly not enough for what you’ve all done for me and I cherish each and every one of you.

  I started my dream late in life so I have words of wisdom for you: FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS, DON’T WAIT…DO IT NOW!

  In closing, I LOVE YOU ALL, and I sincerely hope you enjoy my debut novel, Lucky Number Four.

  BIG HUGS AND SMILES,

  -Amanda Jason aka Carol Kunz aka half of C.A. Kunz

  Title Page

  Copywrite Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Author Page

  “Oh my God, I can’t wait anymore! Please, please, harder, harder. Deeper, deeper. I’m almost the fuck there. Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh.”

  No, I’m not watching porn. In fact, I’m lying here in my semi-dark room listening to one. Actually, it’s the sexual antics of my two very best friends, who were only married a month ago.

  “Oh, baby, I think I’m gonna …. Ahhhhhhhh yeaaaaaaaah.”

  “Yesssssss, I feel it. Harder, harder!”

  By the sound of it, you would think this was their first time, and really, I can’t believe they’re being so inconsiderate. I mean, the walls aren’t soundproof. I left them alone for a month after the wedding, trying to give them alone time as a newly married couple. All the while I was suffering—I mean, spending “quality time” with my family back home.

  Oh, thank heaven. Now all I can hear is muffled voices. Maybe I can finally get some sleep.

  One hour later…I’m still not asleep.

  I haven’t heard any more noises through the wall, which is good thing, but now my throat is dry and I’m thirsty. I swear if it isn’t one thing, it’s another. Jumping out of bed, I listen at the door for any movement. Hearing none, I make my way to the kitchen. Turning the corner, I find the fridge door open and a naked Kevin Browning, the newlywed, standing there. I’m frozen as he bends over and moons me. I must have made a noise because he suddenly straightens and turns. My eyes immediately focus on his nether region.

  “Hey Dora, can’t sleep either?” His voice penetrates my brain, but I don’t look up. “A little different from when we played ‘you show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ when we were seven, huh?”

  Mortified at being caught staring, my eyes fly up to meet his grinning mouth. “Geez, Kev. Couldn’t you have at least put your boxers on?” I say as I swivel and take my hot (I know it’s totally red) face back to my room. I cringe as I hear him laughing behind me. “Jerk. Hope it rots off,” I mumble, making him laugh harder.

  Slamming my door, I fall back on my bed and fume. I really don’t want his penis to drop off. He and Julie are my best friends, and I don’t want her to have a dickless spouse. I’m not that mean.

  I hear them talking through walls and then Julie laughing. Putting my pillow over my head, I pray for sleep.

  The next morning, work is hectic, of course, not giving me a break because of my lack of sleep. Seven mornings a week, I work as a barista in a wonderful coffee shop a block away from our apartment. Five afternoons of the week though, I’m stuck in classes at the local university.

  Today is Monday, and after my five-hour shift, I have three wonderfully boring classes back-to-back. I feel like I’ve been in college all my life. I’m jealous that Julie has graduated early, gotten married, and has secured a real job. But I’m stubborn. I could’ve had my maternal grandmother pay my way, but the price had been too high. What normal girl goes to “finishing school” the summer she graduates from high school? Nope, couldn’t and wouldn’t do it. What the hell is finishing school anyway? Isn’t that like an ancient practice? So, because of my stubbornness, I’m a year behind in terms of graduating.

  Sadness floods me as I realize I need to move out of our apartment. The newlyweds need their space, and I don’t need a nightly reminder of my sexless existence, just another thing to add to my feel-sorry-for-me list.

  Shopping is usually an escape for me, unless it’s for boring groceries. Why can’t we just skip eating? I mean, I could afford to lose a pound or two. But no, it’s my turn to do the shopping, and I have t
o do that often because I hate to cook. Thank goodness Kevin is a chef and it’s his night off. With his deliciously wicked meals, I’ll gain two pounds instead.

  Entering the local supermarket, I grab a cart and glance over at the colorful announcement board. Nestled among the ads for items for sale, dating sites and such, I spy a flyer with numerous perforated tabs at the bottom.

  REALLY! DESPERATELY! WANTED! ASAP!

  A ROOMMATE!

  MUST BE HOUSEBROKEN AND WILLING TO SHARE WITH THREE OTHERS TO MAKE A LUCKY FOUR! AWESOME LOFT APARTMENT! YOUR OWN BED AND FULL BATHROOM! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THE RENT, AND THE UTILITIES ARE INCLUDED!

  Wishing they had put the unbelievable rent amount on the flyer, I grab one of the little slips of paper and decide it’s worth a shot. I have nothing to lose. Tucking the slip into my purse, I put my backpack in the cart and start my journey with grocery list in hand.

  A mouthwatering smell greets me at home when I arrive with two full grocery bags and my ever full backpack. I hear Kevin humming in the kitchen and he pops around the corner, apparently hearing me coming down the hallway.

  “Ah, she has arrived with the rest of the ingredients for tonight’s cuisine.” He grabs the two bags from my aching arms and plops them down on the counter. “Hey chick, you look tired. You know you should really get more sleep.”

  I want to wipe that grin from his face, but I can never stay mad at Kevin for very long, I just can’t.

  “Julie called. She’ll be late. The slave driver wanted an impromptu office meeting. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Why don’t you take a nap?”

  “I wish. I unfortunately have homework that won’t do itself. Your day must have been good since you’re so happy and all.”

  “Every day is an awesome day,” he says. “I have a job I love, a woman I love, and a roommate I adore. What else could a man ask for?”

  I shake my head at his dimpled cheeks as he smiles. Growing up in a small town, Julie, Kevin, and I were like the Three Musketeers. Our parents were good friends and we went on family camping trips and vacations together. It was like having three sets of parents, which was fun until we got into trouble, and then it was a nightmare.

  Kevin was goofy looking when he was younger, and majorly awkward when he went through his growth spurt until he reached his final height of six foot three and a half. His parents encouraged him to play sports and he excelled, winning a scholarship to a college out west. His dark brown hair, good looks, height and adorable dimples had panting females following him everywhere.

  In contrast, Julie is blonde, fair-skinned and, like me, short. We had a growing contest as kids and to our delight, we grew to the same height of five feet four inches.

  We would never be mistaken as twins, though. She always looks put together and I always look thrown together. I think she’s far prettier too. Her natural light blonde hair is straight and falls like a waterfall down her back. Well, when she doesn’t have it up for her job as a social worker. Mine is a red, curly mess. It’s as long as Julie’s, but mine could never be described as a waterfall—more like tangled vines. I don’t tan, but Julie can and used to. Now she shies away from the sun since her dad was diagnosed with skin cancer. Her skin is blemish free while mine has a few freckles—okay, so I have more than a few. Sun kisses, my dad calls them. We both have curves. Not fat, but not skinny and no cellulite yet.

  When Kevin and Julie graduated last winter and he moved back, they fell in love. They had tried to hide their feelings from me because they didn’t know how I’d react, but I knew. I’d just ended a three-year relationship, and being the awesome friends that they are, they didn’t want to upset me. I had known these two all my life. I love them both and told them I couldn’t be happier for them. That night, we celebrated and ended up with massive hangovers the next day.

  “Earth to Dora. Come in, Dora!” Kevin’s voice jolts me from my musings. “Not thinking about last night, are you?” he jokes, his dimples dancing in his cheeks.

  “Yeah, I was,” I say, watching him stand taller and push out his well-defined chest. “I was thinking it hasn’t grown much since I saw it last.”

  I giggle and quickly exit as he throws an oven mitt at me.

  Later that night, while finishing up my homework, I remember the slip of paper from the grocery store and pull it out of my purse. Grabbing my cell phone, I quickly dial the number. A female voice answers.

  “Hello?”

  “Uh, I saw your ad on the board at the supermarket, and I was wondering if the rental is still available, and if so, could I come by and look at it?”

  “Yes, it is, and yes, you can! How about tomorrow, say around one?” her bubbly voice replies.

  “Sure. I mean, that would be wonderful.” I grab a piece of paper and write down the address and then thank her. She tells me her name is Emily. We say our goodbyes and disconnect.

  I breathe out a sigh of relief. Well, that was easy, and she sounds so nice. I’m not going to tell Kevin and Julie just yet. It might not work out. I know they’ll be upset, but I have to give them some space for my sanity … and theirs. I’ve only been back two days, and soon they’ll realize they need to be alone.

  I hear Kevin yelling my name as the front door opens, announcing that Julie’s arrived home. I tuck the address in my backpack, put a smile on my face, and exit the room to greet her.

  Smoothing down my hair, I ride up in the spacious freight elevator. When I found the building—or, should I say, giant warehouse—I’d become more excited. I watch those home improvement channels and I’ve seen what people have done with warehouses. There are four floors, and the address I’m looking for is at the top.

  The wide steel doors open, and I pull back the old-fashioned gate. I step out and look to my left, where I see two blank doors. The same on my right. In front of me is an ornate double door with the number four hundred above it.

  My excitement turns to nervousness when I wonder if this whole floor could be the loft. No, it can’t be. I mean, really, it would be so huge!

  I hesitate and shake my head. Just do it, nothing to lose. It’s just a rehearsal for looking at future apartments. I want to see what this place looks like. The rent is probably so out of my league anyway. So buck up, Dora, and march on.

  While I’m doing this dialogue in my head, my feet have made the decision for me, and I find myself standing in front of the door. There’s a button to the side and I press it, hearing a muffled chime sound from inside. I paste a smile on my face as I hear the lock being disengaged and the door is flung open.

  Oh, my sweet sexy heaven, my brain thinks as my eyes ogle the sight of a tall, beautiful male standing before me wearing nothing more than a skimpy pair of silky boxers and a smile. I take a quick glance at his face before examining his body, which is tanned and totally amazing—with twelve-pack abs. I swear, honest truth. I give it a twelve out of ten for definition. His hands rest on his hips and my eyes are drawn to the area.

  “Do you like what you see?” his husky voice asks, bringing my embarrassed face up to meet his laughing eyes.

  “Uhhhh, I’m looking for Emily?” How moronic can I sound? I know my face is a “wish a hole would open up in the floor and swallow me” cherry red.

  “Emily, you have a visitor,” Mr. Dreamboat’s loud voice echoes in the hall.

  “Geez, Drew. What would our grandmother say if she saw you answering the door in your boxers? Move your bubble butt out of my way,” a feminine voice, the one I recognize from the phone call, pipes up from behind the black-haired god.

  A tall, black-haired girl emerges as she pushes gorgeous Drew to the side. “Hi. I’m Emily, and you must be Pandora. Come in. I swear, this boy never learned manners.”

  Besides the hair color and the height, they don’t look like siblings. Maybe I heard her wrong. She’s very plain until she smiles and then her whole face lights up. I instantly like her and wish I could afford to live here just to have her for a friend.

  The whole time
I’ve been thinking this, she’s been chatting to me and I notice Drop-dead Gorgeous has ignored her suggestion and made himself comfortable on a deep brown sectional in the middle of the room. And what a room it is. It’s like my apartment living room times ten. My favorite fall colors of rich browns, oranges, and reds fill the room. It looks like a room right out of one of those popular design magazines.

  Emily leads me to the sectional, ignoring Drew, and sits on the opposite side of him. “Please sit, Pandora. Would you like something to drink?”

  I shake my head and try to ignore the eyes that are watching me. I will my face to quit turning red, but does it listen? Hell no.

  “So how did you hear about the apartment?” Emily asks.

  “I saw it on the board at the supermarket. I just live about a block away from here.”

  “Damn that Liam. We’ll never hear the end of it!” Drew’s rich voice interrupts. I wonder who Liam is.

  “Shut it, Drew. You guys and your juvenile games.” She looks at me. “They each put an ad in different places, and so far, Liam has had more nibbles from his ad. Now Pandora, let me tell you a little about the place. There are four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and a sitting room. There’s a games room complete with pool table, big screen TV, etcetera, a kitchen, of course…oh, and an indoor garden complete with a lap pool. Any questions?” Emily sounds like a real estate agent trying to get a sale.

  “Well—” My brain seems to have forgotten to signal my mouth, as I find it hard to speak. This place is a freakin’ palace. Like I can afford it.

  “She’ll take it. Look, she’s speechless.” Mr. Dreamboat interrupts again and Emily taps her foot, looking at him with disgust.

  “You wanted me to do this, right? Well, let me do it,” she says to him. “My flight leaves in three hours and if I miss it, you’ll be in big trouble.” She turns to me. “Pandora, what do you think? I think you’ll be a perfect fit.”