Cursed by Love

by Jacie Floyd

  “Thanks.” Molly edged closer to Gabe, eager to end the discussion. “I’ll be careful.”

  She eyed the canvas tote she’d stuck the jade in this morning. How could she have guessed the object would generate so much interest? Now she wished she’d packed it in something more substantial than her ordinary school bag.

  Something like a sturdy metal box. With padding. And a lock. And handcuffs that attached her wrist to the handle.

  Or an armored car.

  She’d never carried around anything so valuable before... except when she’d brought the jade in with her today. But that didn’t count. She hadn’t been nervous about carrying it then.

  Her awareness of its value changed everything. She’d be much more likely to succumb to an attack of the clumsies. The thought of dropping the Lotus petals and watching them shatter into pieces almost made her hyperventilate. What if she put the package down to wash her hands and forgot to pick it up? What if someone tried to take it from her?

  She scanned the crowd with a critical eye. They’d seemed like good-natured well-wishers before. Now, after talking to James, Ethel, and Bert, the faces in the shadows looked envious and avaricious. Menacing, even.

  Who knew what man, woman, or child might have designs on her treasure? Maybe that woman in the straw hat, or that man in the corner with pointy Spock ears, or the couple in the matching workout suits.

  With the bag clutched against her chest, she scanned for the nearest exit before she paused to get a grip. Huh. Just a few minutes after learning about the jade and she’d morphed into Molly Paranoia. Not an attractive persona.

  She needed to get out of there. Besides, she couldn’t wait to share the news with Mom. This was exactly the sort of serendipitous event that tickled her fancy. Or used to, anyway. Hopefully, it would perk up her spirits today.

  Molly chewed her bottom lip. But what about that business of a curse? That really couldn’t be true, could it? A tingly frisson of fear made the hair stand up on the back of her neck, just as it had the first time she’d unwrapped the pink jade from the crinkling old newspaper that had protected it for decades. She shoved the fear aside.

  “Uh, Ms. Webber? Molly?” Gabe’s deep, sexy voice washed over her, shivered down her spine, and made her toes curl inside her shoes.

  “Yes?” She looked over at him and smiled, unable to contain her excitement over their mutual good fortune. Unable to forget the fact that she’d kissed him on public television. And that she’d wanted to keep on kissing him. Odd, even though he was still gorgeous, she no longer felt as inclined to tongue-tango with him now.

  “Do you have a minute? I think we should discuss this, uh—windfall, don’t you?” His eyes gleamed like one of her third-grade students after hitting a game-winning home run during recess. He flashed her a conspiratorial smile that stopped her in her tracks, a smile that had her panting to leap into his arms. Based on a healthy strain of self-preservation, she backpedaled.

  “I’d like to, but I’ll feel better once I have this half of the Sleeping Lotus under lock and key.” She felt oddly protective about it now and eager to be away from the force field of desire he cast around her. Taking a purposeful step back, she checked to confirm that Ethel and Bert had left the vicinity before setting the tote on the table and groping for a pad and pencil. “I’ll give you my phone number. Call me later, okay?”

  “Tell me the number, and I’ll save it to my contact list.”

  After she rattled off the digits, he fished a business card out of his computer bag. As she accepted his card, her hand brushed his, their eyes met, and bam! There were the echoes of desire she’d hoped had vanished.

  Her heart plunged into a dip and dive that rivaled the biggest roller coaster at Kings Island. She shivered with the strangest premonition—like some kind of instant karma had clicked into place between them, something that would bind them and link them together.

  Forever.

  Ridiculous! Shake it off.

  But her breath caught, and her heart rate accelerated just the same.

  No relationship or emotional connection was ever that straightforward, she knew from firsthand experience. As much as she’d like to believe it, nothing was written in the stars.

  Forever rarely meant ‘til death do us part.’ In Molly’s own personal Get-Over-It Dictionary, forever only promised tonight, maybe tomorrow, possibly next week, or until one partner or the other got bored, tired of being tied down, or developed a wandering eye.

  Just ask her former fiancé William about forever.

  Just ask her father and mother.

  Nope, Molly sure didn’t believe in forever anymore. But right now, with Gabe’s gaze locked with hers, ‘tonight and maybe tomorrow’ shimmered with possibilities.

  Gabe pocketed his phone and shut down her wayward thoughts. “Thanks. I’ll give you a call.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Bert bearing down on them. With an abrupt nod, she lifted her bag, slipped the straps over her shoulder, hugged the tote against her, and headed for the exit.

  Slinging the strap of his computer bag across his shoulder, Gabe fell into step beside her. “Where are you parked?”

  Molly glanced at him sideways. Oh, yeah, it was much better having him out of her direct line of sight. Easier to think straight.

  And straight-thinking lead her directly to suspicion. Just how trustworthy is this guy?

  She knew virtually nothing about him. But for the time being, they did have this one enormous common interest. And everyone in the auditorium had been witness to their meeting. His open, honest expression convinced her to take a chance.

  “The garage across Elm.”

  “Me, too.” He held the door, and she emerged from the stuffy, crowded Convention Center into the welcome coolness of the early spring air. “I’ll walk with you to safeguard our joint property.”

  “Right.” How could she object? Down by the river, fans cheered at Great American Ball Park, followed by the boom of fireworks cascading against the dusky sky. Her dad had said he’d be at the game. “Sounds like a homerun.”

  “Go Reds,” Gabe said, with a pump of his fist.

  She cuddled her tote like a baby, pulling in a deep breath of river-scented air. Gabe carried his bag with kid-glove care, too.

  “I’m still in shock.” He shook his head. “How about you?”

  “That pretty much describes it. I had no idea what I had in my hands when I walked in there this afternoon, did you?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Why’d you bring in your half?”

  They stopped at the corner to wait for the light to change. She tapped her foot, eager to get moving, stealing another glance at him, looking away and back again, kidding herself that she had any control over her insane reaction to him.

  “My grandfather.” Gabe’s mouth quirked up on one side, a movement that could have been delight or exasperation, maybe a little of both. “He watches the show religiously, and once he’s made up his mind, he can take stubborn to a whole new level. He wanted me to bring the jade here to get it evaluated. And despite all my objections, somehow he got his way. What about you?”

  “Curiosity, mostly. My grandmother died a few months ago. When my mother and I went through her house, there was all kinds of cool stuff packed away in her attic. The jade caught my interest because I had no idea what it was, how old it was, or even what it symbolized.” She remembered the adults-only theme. “Still, I’m glad I brought in something so unusual. So unique.”

  “So erotic.” His purely masculine smile set her heart jumping.

  “No doubt.” She lowered her chin to hide her blush.

  As the light changed, he cupped her elbow. His warm and steady hand propelled her forward. Heat from his touch tingled along her arm. “You’d never seen it at your grandmother’s before?”

  “Never.” She sighed with relief-tinged regret when they reached the other side of the street and he released her.

  �
�You don’t know how long she owned it?”

  “The hatbox I found it in was covered with dust, and the jade was wrapped in yellowed newspaper. My guess is that it had been stored away for a good long time.” Even now, Molly recalled how her head had buzzed expectantly when she lifted the lid on the old box.

  “And there wasn’t anything denoting provenance?”

  “I’m not sure I would recognize provenance if it had a big red bow tied around it. I’ll look again.” She dared another peek at him from under her eyelashes. “Does your grandfather have any documentation?”

  “I’ll ask.” Gabe sighed and shook his head. “And apologize. Sometimes Granddad embellishes his stories, and normally, well, it’s best not to put much stock in them.”

  “But this time you can.” Molly grinned and Gabe grinned back. They could keep doing that all night long, for all she cared. What an amazing dimpled smile he had, especially when his eyes joined in that way. She had to question the compulsion that made her want to make him smile more often.

  “This time I can take it to the bank, literally.” A fleeting look of relief passed over his features.

  They descended the concrete steps to the underground garage. Emerging from the enclosed stairwell, their footsteps tapped in unison, echoing an eerie downbeat that had Molly checking over her shoulder again.

  Relieved to reach her destination, she stopped beside her canary yellow Volkswagen Beetle, unlocked the door with a beep, opened it, and carefully set the Lotus inside. “Thanks for helping ward off the potential robbers, and muggers, and thieves. Oh my.”

  He looked at her with raised brows.

  “You know, like ‘lions and tigers and bears’? From The Wizard of Oz?” She rolled her eyes. Really, she spent way too much time with children.

  “I do know.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, preventing her from feeling like a complete dork. “It’s one of my niece’s favorites.”

  “Yes, anyway.” She cleared her throat. “It was nice having someone to share the news with a little while longer.”

  “Don’t you have someone at home who’ll be eager to hear? Husband? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Significant other?”

  “No one like that. I’m going to go tell my mom about it first. How about you? Wife, mother, child?” She looked away with feigned disinterest.

  “None of the above. But my grandfather’s probably pacing the floor, waiting for all the details. He’ll be so excited when he hears that he’ll forget he’s eighty-two and suffers from arthritis, bursitis, psoriasis, and colitis. If there’s a story on the news tonight about an old man breaking several bones and suffering a stroke from doing too many cartwheels, you’ll know the announcement was well received.”

  They laughed together, and Molly reveled in the warmth of the moment. “I know what you mean. I’m so thrilled, I keep wanting to jump up and down and hug myself.”

  Definite interest flickered through his eyes. “If you need any help with that, I’d be happy to lend a hand.” He waited a beat before adding, “Again.”

  For a single second, Molly would have been oh, so delighted to take him up on the offer. But the first few notes of “When You Wish Upon a Star” interrupted them again, an audio bucket-of-cold-water, reminding her of the unfavorable first impression he’d made. She pulled her cell out of her tote just to check, but she wasn’t the one receiving a call.

  How could she have forgotten he’d been yelling at someone? Not a wife, thank heavens. Good to know he hadn’t been kissing her as if he had invented kissing solely for her enjoyment while having a legally-wedded wife tucked away somewhere.

  Except at Reds or Bengals games, yelling was one thing she absolutely did not do or allow—no matter how provoked. Not even the day after Halloween when her twenty-two third graders practically scaled the classroom walls, buzzed on sugar. Yelling was strictly forbidden, deserving of a ten-minute time-out.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” she asked, when the refrain repeated.

  “No point.” He reached into his pocket and shut the thing off without checking the display. “The garage reception is lousy, and there’s nobody I’d rather talk to than you.”

  Her heart melted a little, but her head warned her about smooth-talking strangers. Next, he’d be offering her candy and asking her to get into his car.

  She took a giant step back and scanned the rows of parked cars. The Spock-eared guy from the studio stood beside a Jeep a couple of aisles over.

  He waved and nodded. “Congratulations,” he said. “You were the hit of the show.”

  “Thanks.” Wondering how that guy had sneaked up on them, she waved back.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Gabe’s voice echoed off the concrete walls.

  Funny that she hadn’t heard Spock approaching. Had she been that focused on Gabe? Every other sound seemed to bounce around the garage like thunder in the Grand Canyon. She waited for Spock to get in his Jeep, but he fumbled with his keys, dropped them, and cursed.

  Accepting the twinge of uneasiness about Gabe and Spock as fair warning to get home, she opened her car door wider. “I’d better be going.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” Gabe rushed to say. “With what I said before. If that’s why you’re leaving. I’d really like to continue our conversation about the Sleeping Lotus.”

  “Sure.” She maintained a careful distance. “Let’s see what we can find out about provenance first.”

  The muscles in his jaw rippled as he clenched his back teeth, but he accepted the suggestion with a stiff nod. “I’ll call you after I talk to Granddad.”

  “Perfect.” Placing a foot inside the car, she was ready to slide behind the wheel. Ready to get away from Gabe, away from the spooky garage, and away from Spock who still hovered nearby.

  “As soon as we discover its history, we can start making plans.” Gabe’s eagerness stopped her, in an awkward half-in, half-out-of-the-car pose.

  She froze, processing the words, then pivoted with one foot on the ground, one on the floor mat. “Plans to do what?”

  “To sell the Sleeping Lotus, of course.”

  She blinked, then blinked again. “Sell it? Oh, I don’t plan to sell the Sleeping Lotus. At least, not yet.”

  Gabe’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t have looked more shocked if she’d slapped him. “You’ve got to.” The lines of his face tightened. His volume hovered on the verge of escalating again. His hands gripped her shoulders. “I need that money. Didn’t you hear what it was worth?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she pointedly removed his hands from her shoulders. He stepped away, reluctantly.

  “Well, yes.” She spoke slowly, cautiously, the way she talked to overly excitable eight-year-olds all day long. “And that will be a nice little bonus to play with or save for a rainy day, but money isn’t everything. There’s a lot more at stake than that, you know.”

  Apparently, he didn’t know. He couldn’t think of anything more important than the money the Lotus would bring. “What else?”

  “There’s art, there’s history, there’s tradition,” she began, but she immediately recognized his intention to object, and of course, those weren’t her immediate concerns. “There’s the curse. I want to find out more about the curse, okay? You don’t want to do anything to tempt fate, do you? Tempt it, or worse, flaunt it, or make it really mad?”

  She’d never seen anyone look more appalled.

  Chapter Three

  Sell the Sleeping Lotus!

  Mumbling to herself, Molly entered the back door of her mother’s’ house, cradling the precious objet d’art in both hands. Nonna had kept the jade tucked away all these years. She must have had a reason for keeping it.

  Maybe they could exhibit it in a museum eventually, or even sell it after they knew more about it, but hawk the Sleeping Lotus immediately to the highest bidder for profit? It just didn’t seem right to make money on something so esthetically pure, so rare, so beautiful.

  Something that carried a curse.


  They needed to consider all aspects of the treasure before they unwittingly tempted fate into unleashing some mysterious repercussions.

  Besides, the Lotus petals weren’t hers to sell. Technically, the jade belonged to her mother. But she was certain her mother would strongly agree with Molly. Well, maybe not strongly. Her mother hadn’t felt strongly about anything for a while now. But at the very least, she would back up Molly’s opinion. Probably.

  Penny, the family’s ancient golden retriever padded in to greet her with a wagging tail and a lick of the hand. Molly filled the dog’s water and food bowls, tickling her under her chin, all the while wondering about Mom’s whereabouts.

  With a shake of her head, Molly drew a frownie face and a question mark in the layer of dust coating the granite counter. No delicious-smelling dinner simmered on the stove. No school reports lay on the planning desk. No fresh flowers decorated the table. But worst of all was the stillness that suffocated the life out of the room, out of the house.

  Except for the slurping dog, silence reigned. Even the hands of the battery-powered wall clock swept soundlessly through the seconds and minutes. Only the silver SUV parked in the driveway indicated her mother’s presence in the house.

  “Where’s Mom, Penny?” Molly rubbed the dog’s head. “Where’s Mom?” Penny barked and turned tail to lead Molly to the family room.

  “Mom?” Molly moved from the kitchen into the dark shadows of the family room where the drapes were drawn. Here, too, a weary neglect contradicted the welcome of the once cheery French country décor.

  “Hello, dear.” Her mother’s flat tone carried the strain of exhaustion. Under-eye bags attested to sleepless nights. She sat in a wingback chair that seemed forlorn next to her father’s matching vacant one. Penny trotted over and parked at Mom’s feet.

  Guilt pulled at Molly’s conscience when she noticed new lines bracketing her mother’s mouth and gray undertones marring her normally creamy complexion. Hours from bedtime, her once-inexhaustible mother wore a chenille robe over a flannel nightgown. A magazine lay open in her lap, but none of the lamps had been lit. Muted images flickered on the flat television screen.