Cursed by Love

by Jacie Floyd

  All of Molly’s senses went on alert. “Are you having an affair with Rhonda Fellini?”

  “Good God, no.” He practically shuddered at the thought. “Your mother accused me of the same thing.”

  “But she thought you were. Why was that?”

  “Rhonda was going through a rough time with her own marriage. Her husband was having an affair, but they went to a marriage counselor I recommended. Now they’ve patched things up. We cried on one another’s shoulders a few times, but never anything more intimate.” He shook his head. “I guess your mother misinterpreted all of that.”

  “All right then.” Molly swept aside the subject of his supposed affair. “Did this lack of energy occur before or after Grandmother died?”

  He studied the ceiling tiles, searching for the answer. “After. I suspected she was suffering from depression over your grandmother’s death. But when I tried to discuss it with her, she told me to quit trying to analyze her. Why?”

  “The Sleeping Lotus.” She nodded decisively just as Gabe slipped back into his seat beside her. She looked at him triumphantly. “It’s time for Dad to know the truth.”

  Gabe appeared adorably horrified by the suggestion, thunking his forehead with the heel of his hand. “God, no, don’t tell me I was lucky enough to return in time for the retelling of the ‘Love Curse of the Sleeping Lotus’ tale.” He shifted away in time to miss the elbow she aimed at his ribs. “Come on, Molly, don’t start.”

  She sniffed at his continued dismissal that the curse was responsible for all the heartache their families had been through. “Even if you won’t acknowledge that their problems started when Mom inherited half of the Sleeping Lotus, I’m more and more certain of it. The facts are clear.”

  “Facts? There are no—Wait a minute.” Gabe stopped abruptly and chewed on the inside of his cheek, while he crossed and re-crossed his knife and fork on his plate, then gaped at Molly. “Your mother inherited the Sleeping Lotus from your grandmother?”

  “Yes, of course.” His intensity confused her. “You know that. We’ve talked about it endlessly.”

  He smiled then, not the happy smile that reached his eyes and warmed her with its sincerity, but a grim smile that bared his teeth and blasted her with arctic coldness. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Gentle. Personal. Insistent on getting and keeping her attention. “I thought the Lotus petals belonged to you.”

  “They belong to my family. The curse is the curse. As long as the pieces are separated, it doesn’t matter who owns them.” Chilled, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, looking up to see if they were seated under an overactive air-conditioning vent. “Let’s just tell Dad about the curse and let him decide for himself. What could it hurt?”

  “How’s the cleanup going?” Gabe asked Molly as they left the restaurant and she took his hand.

  “It’s going.” She watched her dad head for the prized Jaguar parked in the farthest corner of the lot. “Mom and a friend from school helped me yesterday. We’re not quite finished, but I’m sick of working on it. I’m taking a break this afternoon to go to a concert in Eden Park.”

  After sitting through another recitation about the Sleeping Lotus curse, he knew she was optimistic about giving her dad a lot to think about where his marriage was concerned. Even Gabe was starting to see how someone with her superstitious nature would fall for the outlandish tale. It did make a certain amount of off-the-wall sense.

  But Gabe had been counting the seconds, eager to have the meal over and dreading having the meal over. He knew Molly had noticed he hadn’t hugged her when he arrived, and that he’d been keeping a close eye on the time. She didn’t miss much. But now that they were outside and alone, she turned to him with a happy smile.

  Holding on to her cool, slim fingers, he enjoyed the moment longer than he should have before he turned toward the Harley. “You’re not going alone, are you?”

  “No, I’m going with a group of people. Want to join us?”

  There was almost nothing he’d like more, but of course, he couldn’t. “Love to, but I have other plans.” He felt like an ass for what he was about to do. He wasn’t lying to her, exactly, but his actions would sure smack of betrayal once she learned about them. “Rain check?”

  She squinted at the clouds gathering overhead. “That’s a very real possibility. Maybe we can meet for dinner later.”

  “Maybe we can.” He remained studiously neutral.

  The brilliant blue of her eyes clouded over, much like the overhead sky. She took a step back, away from him. “Sure, I understand. Call me if you’d like to get together.”

  Would she want to get together with someone who was plotting behind her back? No more than she’d want to get together with a loser who’d lost his company and couldn’t take care of his family. Either choice turned his stomach, but he couldn’t take his chances on what ifs with Molly when there was a very real possibility that everything he’d worked so hard to achieve would disappear by the end of the week.

  Damn Quigley and his ultimatums! Damn Uncle Harold and his lack of self-control!

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Gabe clenched his fists and got a firm grip on his restraint. “I’ll do that, you know, when I’m not so busy.”

  “Fine.” Her smile vanished, and she turned away.

  Well, there she went, heading off without him. She held her shoulders stiff against the lamest excuse in the arsenal of male brush-offs—the work excuse.

  He trailed along behind her wondering what else he could do. There was no future for them. He might as well cut her out of his life now, while he still could, before he told her how much he cared. Before he ended up responsible for one more person. He couldn’t handle one more person right now.

  But it was worth taking one last shot at getting what he needed from her, before she disappeared from his life, probably forever.

  “Uh, Molly.”

  She stopped beside an unidentified SUV, and he closed in behind her. She unlocked the door with the key fob.

  “Whose car is this?”

  “Mom’s. There’s a lot of trash to be hauled out of the house, too much for the VW, so we traded for a few days.”

  “You aren’t going back home by yourself, are you?” Picturing her walking in there alone worried him.

  “I’ll have to sometime.” She shrugged. “It may as well be today.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? Or safe?”

  “After seeing my home violated, I don’t know how long it will be before I feel completely safe or sure about anything again.” She gave a shudder of uneasiness. “But the motivation for the break-in was that damned Sleeping Lotus, nothing personal, and I’ll be more careful about using the security system. Dad, Mom, the police, my brother in St. Louis, and even the principal at my school have already lectured me.”

  “Good. Just don’t go in if there are any strange cars on the block, or if anything looks or sounds funny. Or—”

  “Really?” She stopped him with her sarcasm. “You mean if the windows are smashed or there are strange men lounging on the porch I shouldn’t go in the house? Here, let me make a note for future reference.” She pretended to search her purse for pen and paper.

  “All right, all right. You’re not an idiot, I know, but it’s hard not to worry.” He didn’t see how he could say anything more without revealing more about his feelings. He opened the car door for her and asked the question that was uppermost on his mind. “Have you decided what you want to do with the Sleeping Lotus?”

  She stopped with her foot on the running board, faltered for a second, then spun around. The glare in her eyes seared him like meat on a grill. “You said you didn’t care about that anymore.”

  “I don’t.” Like hell. “I just wondered if you’d decided.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Not yet.”

  He leaned against the door and slid his hands in his pockets, pretending to be Mr. Casual as all hope drained away. “Okay, then,
take your time. Talk to you later.”

  Now he really did have to go, but hated leaving her with that sad, disillusioned expression on her face.

  He didn’t want to leave her at all

  One last kiss, that’s all he needed. When he reached out and lifted her chin, she blinked in surprise. He moved to cradle her jaw between his palms, memorizing her face, her features, losing himself in the startling blue of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, then planted his lips squarely against hers.

  Her lips took only a second to soften beneath his, and his tongue swept inside. He put all he had into it, kissing her at his own pace, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Memorizing her responsiveness, every nuance, every texture.

  As his fingers caressed the fullness of her breast, she shivered and pressed her palms flat against his back. She pulled him closer, rubbing against him.

  Gripping her jean-covered thigh, he pulled up her knee, guiding her leg around his hip. Heat flashed through him, and his hand moved to caress her breast through her sunny yellow sweater while he deepened the kiss still more.

  A car door slammed nearby, reminding him at the last possible second that they were on full display. Again.

  Slowly, he pulled his hand away from her breast, removing his lips from hers, leaving her breathless. His own breath came in nearly painful gasps, but he lingered over the sight of her swollen lips. He wanted to remember her like this. To see her sparkling with sexual energy. And smiling. If he had to leave, he wanted to leave her smiling.

  She opened her eyes and shrugged. “And still, we haven’t made it to a bed.”

  “That would be too good to be true.” He hesitated, as if reluctant to continue. “Just one more thing, Molly.”

  “Hmmm?”

  He tapped her shoulder and backed away. “Tag. You’re ‘it’.”

  For a little while on Friday night he’d let himself hope the two of them might have a future. He let himself believe that if she had enough faith in fate for both of them, her lucky penny might contain enough magic for both of them.

  But of course, it didn’t have any magic at all.

  By the time he’d got back to the office that night, all hell had broken loose. Much worse than if Uncle Harold had taken the petty cash again. This time he’d cleaned the place out… computers, furniture, and all. He’d taken everything that wasn’t nailed down, taking their chances of success with him.

  Gabe had wasted Saturday wading through all the loopholes the sleazebag insurance company said excluded them from responsibility. Their main stance had been that they wouldn’t pay off until the police report had been filed. And dammit, Granddad didn’t want Gabe going to the police.

  Gabe insisted on filing the stupid report, even though it wouldn’t do them much good. Howard was the most likely thief, and they would never press charges against him.

  Now, it was up to Gabe to raise the money to replace the office equipment. His credit was already stretched to the max, and the bank wouldn’t increase his loan. And even if they could replace their equipment, recreating their body of work would be a gigantic nightmare.

  They still had a couple of laptops that hadn’t been at the office and most stuff had been backed up, but not all of it. Their best bet would be to locate the fence where Harold had taken the stuff. Granddad was working on that, but Gabe didn’t hold out much hope.

  He didn’t hold out much hope about anything.

  He’d been prepared to beg Molly to sell the Sleeping Lotus this morning after they’d had breakfast with her dad, to use their attraction for one another as leverage, or play on her sympathy if he had to. And then right there during breakfast, she’d shown him the way.

  Molly couldn’t sell the Sleeping Lotus.

  It wasn’t hers to sell. It belonged to her mother.

  So simple.

  And her mother seemed much more open to the idea of selling the Sleeping Lotus than Molly did. He’d been barking up the wrong tree all along. He’d go visit Mrs. Webber. She’d been as skeptical as he had about the whole idea of a ‘curse’. It sure wouldn’t hurt to ask her to consider the sale.

  Except for the fact that Molly would probably never speak to him again for going behind her back.

  That would hurt them both, but he’d deal with it later. Compared with keeping a roof over Granddad, Sierra, and Chloe’s heads, he didn’t have much choice.

  He pulled into the flower-lined Webber driveway and put on his most confident face. He rang the bell and waited.

  “Hello, Gabe, this is a surprise.” Mrs. Webber smiled and held open the door “Molly’s not here.”

  “I know,” he said, “I have a proposition for you. Can we talk?”

  Although she quirked an eyebrow at his choice of words, she welcomed him inside. “Of course, Gabe, come into the kitchen. I’ll get you something to drink.”

  He’d prefer it if he could shake the feeling of being the next best thing to a con man.

  If he didn’t feel like his father.

  The one feeling he’d hoped to avoid his whole life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gabe’s disgust with himself went bone deep. He’d gone to Molly’s mom for help and failed. She’d refused to sell the Sleeping Lotus without Molly’s approval. He admired the hell out of Mrs. Webber’s loyalty, but it left him right where he’d started. Except with less hope, and, probably, without his company.

  Sure, he’d been working on alternatives. Plans that included starting over, selling his few remaining assets, downsizing the operation from the size of a shoestring to a fishing wire.

  Escaping to a tropical island sounded better and better.

  Had he really thought Mrs. Webber would agree to squeeze Molly out of the equation?

  Probably not, but still. He’d been disappointed when she refused. Nice lady, Ellen Webber, even though the separation from her husband appeared to be wearing her down. He could see where Molly got her looks and her personality. Of course, Molly’s dad was great, too.

  Clearly, she’d gotten off to a good start in life just by having those two as parents. That fact alone put her way out of his league. If he’d been thinking about bridging the gaps that loomed between them, he’d have a lot of ground to make up. Probably just as well the possibility was now off the table.

  Time to move onto one of his few remaining options.

  Gabe rode his Harley into the parking garage attached to Max Williams’ high-rise condo. Max’s Porsche, Jeep, and Fat Boy sat lined up in a gleaming row.

  He pulled out his phone and called Max. “You must be home, unless you’re out somewhere in a limo.”

  “I gave the driver the day off.” Max told him. “Come on up,”

  In the lobby, the doorman waved him through. The elevator with glass panels whisked him up the side of the building. It gave visitors a panoramic river view of the Ohio and northern banks of Kentucky.

  When the doors slid open on the top floor, he stepped into the infamous penthouse that had been the scene of many wild times. Gabe did a double-take. The décor had acquired a feminine touch.

  “Throw pillows?” he asked Max, kicked back in a recliner, watching a Reds game. His shoes were off and there was a beer close at hand.

  Max shrugged. “Annabel likes ‘em.”

  Gabe had to smile. Whatever Max’s fiancée wanted these days, she got. Which was completely unlike the commitment-phobic player who used to go through women faster than a Harley zoomed through a tunnel. He could razz Max about being whipped, but he wouldn’t. Annabel was the best thing that had ever happened to Max, and most of their friends agreed. And considering his recent career success, that was saying a lot. “Annabel here?”

  “She’s out shopping with Carly, but she said to tell you to stay for dinner.”

  “Can’t.”

  The game went to commercial and Max shifted his gaze to Gabe. “How was the date the other night?”

  Gabe shifted a throw pillow and took a seat on the mile
-long leather couch. “Weird.”

  “Weird good or bad?”

  Gabe mulled that question over. “Good, then bad, then good, then ended on a really bad note when somebody broke into her place.”

  “No shit? I bet that put a damper on the evening. What are you going to do now to win her over? Need to borrow the Porsche again?”

  “No, although the Porsche worked its usual magic, it can’t fix the kind of problems we’ve got now. I’m still trying to figure things out with her, but she’s resisting.”

  “How come? She finds you repulsive?”

  “There’s that.” Max was one of the few people who knew how dire Gabe’s situation had become. “And then there’s the part about no money and no prospects. And no time to get involved.”

  “Speaking of which, are you sure you want to sell your bike, man?”

  He was sure he didn’t want to. But… “No choice.”

  “Dude. I could loan you some money. Tide you over for a while.”

  Gabe knew he would, too. Max was the newest investigative reporter for a network news show and the contract came with some big bucks. And he had always been generous with his friends. “You want to invest in the company?”

  “No, but I’d invest in you, if you needed me to.”

  Gabe scratched his head, touched and tempted by the offer. “We’ll see. I’ll keep it in mind.

  “What’s Harold up to these days? He causing you problems?” Max took a swig from his longneck. “I heard some rumors down in the newsroom when I dropped by yesterday.”

  “What kind of rumors?”

  “They sounded kind of crazy, but I haven’t been around much lately, so I don’t know everything that’s going on. One of the guys said he’d heard Harold’s name connected with some police investigation about Chinese art. Or loan sharks. Does that make any sense?”

  Gabe’s heart sank. “Too much sense, damn it. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll check into it.”

  Max’s phone rang and he put it to his ear. “Yo. Mitch. We’ll come down.” He set the television remote to record the game. “Guy interested in your bike is here. Let’s go talk to him while he looks it over.”