Just My Luck (Escape to New Zealand #5)

by Rosalind James

  “So,” Kristen said that evening from her spot on the couch. “Long weekend, huh?”

  The two of them were drinking herbal tea together before Kristen went to bed. Ally knew she ought to eat something, but she didn’t have the energy to think about it.

  She’d spent the day at work trying not to think about what Nate had said, what she had said. Had found herself blinking back tears, fighting an uncharacteristic sadness that kept threatening to overwhelm her. And now she was exhausted.

  “Can I just say,” Kristen offered tentatively when Ally didn’t immediately respond, “that you don’t look as happy as I thought you’d be? Is it saying goodbye again? Or did it not go well?”

  Ally hadn’t told her the details of what she’d planned, just that she’d wanted to take Nate away, give him a break. And Kristen had been excited for her. Had urged her to take the car despite the inconvenience of being without it for three days. Now, Ally’s eyes filled with tears again as she looked across at her friend. So loving. So concerned.

  “It’s just that . . .” She shrugged helplessly, found that the tears, held back so long, refused to be denied any longer. “He doesn’t love me.”

  She choked on the words and began crying in earnest, which had Kristen running for the box of tissues, then coming to sit next to her and wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  Ally sobbed until she didn’t have anything left, even as she felt the ridiculousness of it. What had she lost? Nothing but the product of her imagination. Nothing but a stupid dream. And cried harder at the realization.

  She tried to stop, made a couple attempts to talk, but lost the battle every time. Leaned into the comfort of Kristen’s supporting arm, and cried because it wasn’t Nate there, holding her. Because Nate didn’t love her like that, and she was pretty sure he never would.

  “How come I can’t find a man who loves me the way you do?” she asked at last with a watery laugh, a few more gulps, and a vigorous blow of her nose.

  “Is that it?” Kristen asked. “Did you break up?”

  Ally shook her head, gave her eyes one final wipe, and reached for her cup of tea. Tried to pull herself back under control. “No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. It was all going so well, and then I told him, this morning, that I loved him. While we were . . . When I was . . . It just slipped out, that’s all. And you’d have thought I was telling him I had herpes,” she said with another choked laugh. “It wasn’t exactly welcome information.”

  “Wow. You said it first?” Kristen asked. “You’re so brave. I’ve never done that.”

  “Yeah. Well. I don’t advise it,” Ally sighed. “It didn’t work out too well.”

  “So what did he say, exactly?” Kristen pressed. “Did he say he didn’t?”

  Ally shook her head, reached for another tissue as the tears showed up again. “No. He just said he wasn’t sure. And that his commitment is to rugby,” she added with disgust. “To his team, and the frigging All Blacks. He made it totally clear that it wasn’t to me. But why can’t it be both? How can a man be in love with a team? It’s like it’s his wife! Drew fell in love with Hannah, didn’t he? So is it just me? That I’m not lovable?”

  “Of course it’s not you,” Kristen said firmly. “You’re great. You’re totally lovable. But Drew had been captain for a long time when he met Hannah. He was comfortable in it, I think. Sure of himself. And Nate’s . . .”

  “Scared,” Ally finished for her. “Consumed. I know he is. But I could help him. I already did, I think. I think I do.”

  “But probably,” she sighed, “it’s me. I’m not the type of woman men fall madly in love with, and I never have been. I’m not mysterious or exciting. I’m like some kind of Girl Scout, the happy pal the boys let into the tree house because she doesn’t count. Because she’s not a real girl.”

  “I’m pretty sure Nate sees you as a girl,” Kristen protested with a smile. “I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Then why?” Ally demanded. “How many men have told you they loved you?”

  “Lots,” Kristen admitted. “But that doesn’t mean they meant it. Maybe they thought they did, but it wasn’t really me. It was the idea of me. Or just that they wanted something, and thought they could get it that way. And for a long time, they were right. But Nate isn’t one of those guys. He’s a decent man, a grown-up man who won’t say something he doesn’t mean. He doesn’t want to lead you on.”

  Ally nodded glumly. “That’s what he said. And here I am with my grand total of one man who’s ever said that to me, and didn’t really mean it anyway, not in the way I want. So what do I do now?”

  “I think,” Kristen said slowly, “that you decide whether what he has to give is enough for you.”

  “Yeah,” Ally sighed. “You’re right. Let’s face it, I’m only here another six months anyway. I got all carried away, that’s all. But I don’t know if it is enough. I’m not sure I can be happy with just a piece of him.”

  “Another thing,” Kristen said. “If you do stay with him, you probably guard your heart a little more, don’t you think? See if you can do it for . . . for fun, maybe?”

  “I finally figure out what I want out of life.” Ally slumped back against the cushions with a sigh. “What I want to do, and who I want to be with. I finally get the guts to say it, to wish for it. And turns out none of it’s realistic. None of it’s even possible. Wouldn’t you know it? Just my luck.”

  We Try Harder

  Nate rang off with a frown. No answer again. He hadn’t left a message this time. He was starting to feel like some kind of stalker. It was just that Ally’d always been around to talk to him before the game. He’d got used to it, that was all. Somehow, it had become his pregame ritual. And not being able to reach her . . . it was throwing him off. She’d said she didn’t have to work today, so it wasn’t that, unless the schedule had been changed.

  Was she avoiding him? She hadn’t sounded the same when he’d phoned her a couple nights ago, even though he’d remembered to text her when he’d got to the Mount, and to Canberra as well. He wanted to make it right between them again, but how was he meant to do it? What more could he do?

  “Something wrong?” Mako asked from the other bed, where he was lying reading a book. Nate had already sneaked a peek. Some literary thing.

  “Nah. Want to go for a bit of a walk, something like that?”

  “I need to do this,” Mako said apologetically. “You know I do.”

  “You need to read some boring, depressing book before the game. I’ve never understood that. What kind of a footy player are you? Give us all a bad name.”

  Mako smiled a bit at that. “Takes me out of myself. Can’t play good footy if you’re strung up.”

  He marked his place carefully, set the heavy hardback down, and sat up a bit straighter. “Come on. What is it? Something about tonight? Or the ABs? Or something personal? Because, mate, something’s on your mind, and it’s been there all week, since we were at the Mount. Better get it off your chest now if you’re going to be right to run out there tonight.”

  Nate sighed, stood up and grabbed the hand exerciser Ally had lent him, which he’d somehow never bothered to give back. It actually had been good for his ball-handling skills, given him just that bit more control. He began to pace the extent of the room, squeezing the thing rhythmically, one finger at a time.

  “How d’you send a woman flowers?” he asked abruptly.

  “You’re telling me you’ve never sent a woman flowers,” Mako said slowly. “Never ever?”

  “Nah. Never. And I think I need to. So how d’you do it?”

  Mako looked at him for a long moment. Then picked up his mobile, clicked around a bit, and handed it over.

  “You ring this number,” he instructed. “Tell them what you want, how much you want to spend. What colors they should use. What you want on the card, where to send them. Sending them to her work’s best, so everyone else can see them too.”

  “I don
’t care if everyone else sees them,” Nate said irritably. “Just want her to.”

  Mako sighed. “Doesn’t matter what you care about, mate. That’s the point. When you send them to her work, she gets to show everyone else there that somebody sent her flowers, make them a bit jealous. Makes her feel special, eh.”

  “It’s all blokes there,” Nate objected. “I don’t think anybody’s going to envy her getting flowers.”

  “And that wouldn’t be a good thing? Show all those blokes she works with, who’re there when you’re here, that she’s got somebody sending her flowers? That she’s got you sending them? Letting them know that you’ll rip their fu—their frigging heads off if they even think about it?”

  “Trying not to swear,” he said when Nate looked at him. “Self-improvement program, eh. Somebody I’m trying to impress myself, and I’ve got the flowers bit down. Going for the advanced level now.”

  “Huh. You’re right,” Nate said with decision. “Definitely sending them to work.”

  “You said colors, though,” he remembered. “What d’you mean, colors? Don’t you just do roses?”

  “Ally doesn’t strike me as the red roses type,” Mako said. “What’s her favorite color? Start there.”

  “Her favorite color? No idea. How’m I meant to know that?”

  His friend heaved another sigh, looked at him pityingly. “Right. OK, then. Tip for you: that’d be a good thing to find out. What color does she wear most?”

  “Uh . . . When I first met her, she was wearing a yellow shirt. I remember that.”

  “Yellow’s good,” Mako said with decision. “She’s the yellow type. Sunny. Happy. Tell them that. Happy colors.”

  “Not too happy just now, I don’t think,” Nate said glumly. “Not with me, anyway. Maybe not at all. I made her feel pretty bad.”

  “Ah,” Mako said. “Then do the flowers. Definitely do the flowers. Tell them, best they’ve got, doesn’t matter what it costs. And think hard about the message you have them put on the card. Something that’ll mean something to her. Something personal.”

  “Sure you need to get back?” Robbo asked Ally. “Because we could go have dinner. Get a hamburger, maybe. I’m hungry, after all that.”

  “I want to watch the Hurricanes game,” she said.

  He glanced across at her, pulled out of the Adrenaline Park carpark and onto the motorway. “We could do a pub. They’d have the footy on. Bound to.”

  “No. I’d better get home.” She shifted restlessly in her seat. She’d looked at her mobile when they’d got back to the car, and seen four missed calls. And now it was too late. Nate would already be getting taped up, preparing to go out there. And if she didn’t hurry, she wasn’t even going to be in time to watch him. And then she’d really feel like she was cheating on him.

  Which was ridiculous, she reminded herself. Nate didn’t love her, and he’d all but told her he didn’t need her either. That this was just for fun. She didn’t owe him a damn thing. Feeling this way was counterproductive, and wimpy, and ridiculous.

  “I got a speeding ticket here recently,” she told Robbo now. “So be careful.”

  With Nate, she thought with a pang. Just last week, though it seemed like a lot longer ago than that. And when she’d been going through the treetop ropes courses of the adventure park today, all she’d been able to think about was how much she’d like to take him there. Tease him about it, make him go on the highest, toughest routes. And then see what he’d figure out later, how he’d manage to even the scales. She shivered a little, thinking about it. If only he weren’t so great, this would be a whole lot easier.

  Well, she had a life to live too. So here she was, having a good time without him. Having a great time.

  “I had a really good time,” she told Robbo now. “Thanks a lot for asking me to come along today. I enjoyed it.”

  “We could do more things like this,” he suggested. “Next time we have a day off together. Or, I don’t know. Go out after work sometime, have a beer, next time we close.”

  She cleared her throat. “Probably not a good idea. I meant what I said. Friends, that’s all. I’m actually dating somebody.”

  Robbo shot a glance across at her. “Bloody Captain Fantastic,” he said with resignation. “I should have known.”

  “Well, yeah,” she admitted. “That is who it is.”

  “And he doesn’t mind you going out with me for the day?” Robbo asked. Looking a little nervous, she realized.

  “I don’t think he’s going to come around and beat you up, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said with a smile. “I’m allowed to have friends. If you still want to be friends, that is.”

  “I’m allowed to have friends,” she told Nate the next day. Feeling a whole lot less loving towards him than she’d been when the huge vase of tulips—at least three dozen of them, in shades of red, orange, and yellow that just made her happy—had been delivered to the gym that morning. Which had been completely over the top, and she’d had to take the bus home, sit with the gigantic bouquet in her lap, barely able to see around it. And had felt like maybe he really did care after all. That maybe this thing could work. Especially when she’d read the note.

  To my s.s.

  From your s.s.

  I miss you every day and every night.

  Please let me try harder.

  She’d thought she would melt right there, right in the middle of the noisy gym, surrounded by sweating men, wishing one of them was the right sweating man.

  But now, standing in her flat with him, the flowers overwhelming the little coffee table, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to go to dinner with him, let alone anywhere else.

  “I said no other people, and I meant it,” he said, looking furious, and dangerous, and much too sexy. And totally and completely exasperating.

  She sighed. “Robbo’s a friend. I’ve told you about him. You’re gone, Nate. I wasn’t working, and I wanted to do something fun. So I went out with a friend and did it. Something I was thinking, at the time, I’d like to take you to do. But you weren’t there, were you? I’m sorry I wasn’t available when you called me, but I can’t just hang around all the time and wait for you, you know. As you’ve gone to some trouble to remind me, I’m not exactly central to your life. I can’t put my own life on hold for you. And I won’t.”

  “Not asking you to put your life on hold for me,” he muttered. “Just . . . can’t you make some girlfriends? Do . . . girl things?”

  “I don’t like to do girl things! What, am I supposed to go get my hair highlighted or something? Have a . . . a pedicure? Go shopping? I do outdoors things. They’re what I do. You know that. And the people I do them with often happen to be men. You can either accept that, or you can forget it. This isn’t Saudi Arabia, and I’m not some weak flower who’s going to be overwhelmed by whatever male is in my vicinity. I’m allowed to speak to men, I’m allowed to spend time with my friends, and you’re being ridiculous!”

  This was a whole lot easier, she realized, when she could be mad instead of sad. Maybe she should thank him for being so damn unreasonable.

  “Bloody hell.” He ran both hands over his hair, held his head for a moment. Blew out a deep breath. “Right. Start again.”

  “I felt bad,” he said, looking up. Wearing his most determined expression. “Because talking to you before the match means a lot to me, and you weren’t there. I worried that you’d given up on me. And then finding out you were with somebody else, that made it worse. Because I meant what I said on that card. I want to try harder. I want to be a better boyfriend. Try to put you higher up the list, do the right things, make you feel . . . cared for.”

  He still couldn’t say “loved.” She didn’t miss that. But what he had managed to say . . . it was pretty good.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” she said through the lump in her throat. “I felt like a fool after you left, after what you said. Hanging around waiting for you to call me like I’
m sixteen years old, sitting in my room looking at the phone, wishing it would ring. If you’d told me it mattered, if we’d worked out a time . . .”

  “That’s me,” he said immediately. “That’s me taking it for granted you’d be there, not thinking about you enough. I won’t do that anymore, I promise.”

  “Then,” she said, feeling the tears rising again, “I promise that I’ll be there to talk to you. Even if I have to take a break from swinging through the treetops to do it. With my friend.”

  “Right,” he said with a sigh of relief. “But I want to meet this Robbo again. I’m going to pop by tomorrow, get Mako to come in with me and do a bit of climbing.”

  And stare the other man down, he promised himself. Make sure he got the message. But just now, he had a girlfriend to hold, and kiss, and somehow persuade to give him another chance. Because he needed to be with her tonight, and tomorrow night. And every day and night afterwards that she’d have him.

  All Black Attack

  “Wow,” Ally said when she’d followed Kristen and Hannah down the row of seats in cavernous Eden Park, a sea of black tonight, except for the occasional tricolored flag.

  “It’s pretty overwhelming, isn’t it?” Hannah agreed. “And the stadium isn’t even full yet. But an All Blacks game is always special. The French are tough opponents, too, and everyone knows it.”

  Kristen and Ally had flown to Auckland for the game. Not even that big a hit to her extremely modest budget, Ally thought happily, since Hannah was chauffeuring them, and putting them up as well. Not for the first time, Ally blessed the day she’d given a nervous, shaky Kristen her first climbing lesson. Because just about everything good in her life right now had come out of that day.

  Hannah had urged them both to stay, since Drew was in the Bay of Plenty, talking about coaching opportunities for the next season. “Come hold my hand,” she had pleaded. “It’s going to be so strange to watch a game and know that Drew’s not part of it.” And Kristen and Ally hadn’t been a bit hard to convince.