Good Luck Charm: A Single Mother Romance

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Good Luck Charm: A Single Mother Romance Page 8

by Weston Parker


  I could only imagine how much it cost his company to put Zach up in his fancy digs for his stay in Austin. Maybe I could cost them a pretty penny if he stuck around and fought me on selling my shop. That would bring me a sliver of satisfaction.

  Lily directed Zach most of the way to her favorite pizza parlor. I had to intervene a couple of times to correct her instructions, but she knew where she was going for the most part, and we arrived at Via 313 only fifteen minutes after seven. By that time, my stomach was growling, and I hoped Zach couldn’t hear it over Lily’s giddy laughter as we parked across the street.

  I got out and beat him to the back door to let Lily out. He stood politely aside and waited. Lily’s sandals slapped on the pavement when she hopped down, and she waited patiently as I closed the door, fixed my light cardigan from where it had slid off my right shoulder, and then reached down to take her hand.

  We looked both ways and crossed the street. Zach hurried to open the glass doors of the pizza shop, and the smell of roasting veggies, rich cheese, and savory dough rolled over us.

  My stomach growled even louder, and my mouth started to water.

  It was a seat-yourself pizza parlor. Lily and I always sat by a window if we could, and there was a booth in the far corner right at the window. Lily made a run for it as I shrugged out of my cardigan and made to follow.

  Zach caught my wrist, and I turned to him.

  He looked almost apologetic. “I hope it’s all right with you that I invited Lily. I realized after I left your shop this morning that I might have put you in a bad position.”

  I licked my lips. That was unexpected. “It’s all right. She loves this place. And we agreed to not talk business, right? So no harm, no foul.”

  He nodded, and that confident smile of his returned to his face, warming up his eyes and pulling at his cheeks. “Excellent. After you, then.”

  I joined Lily at the booth and slid into the spot beside her. She didn’t bother opening her menu—there was no need. She ordered the same thing every time without fail. Instead, she retrieved a cup of crayons tucked at the end of the table under the window and waited patiently for the waitress to arrive.

  Her name was Beth, and she knew us well. She handed Lily two coloring sheets. “Don’t tell my manager. You’re the only kid who gets two.”

  “Thanks, Beth,” Lily said, already leaning over the coloring sheets and inspecting the outlined images of a family of turtles on one sheet and a princess on the other. She wasted no time in getting started, opting for the purple crayon for the largest turtle. A perfectly realistic decision.

  “Do you three need more time?” Beth asked. She locked eyes with me, and a devilish little smile touched her pinched lips. She was a young girl, probably no more than eighteen, and she’d been serving Lily and me here for the last year or so. Just me and Lily. She was not so subtly making a point to note that there was a man with us.

  “I know what I want!” Lily cried.

  “Kid’s personal pizza with cheese and a glass of chocolate milk?” Beth asked.

  “Yes, please.” Lily nodded.

  I ordered my usual—a vegetarian pizza that came with pineapples because pineapples did belong on pizza and always would, plus bell peppers, onions, green peppers, and a chipotle cilantro sauce drizzled over the top.

  Beth fixed her gaze on Zach. “And for yourself?”

  “Uh,” he said, staring down at the menu like a lost puppy dog. “I’m not sure. What’s good?”

  “They’re all good.” Beth shrugged, leaning over and twisting the menu in front of him toward her. “Our best sellers are these two meat lover options. My favorite is the butter chicken pizza. You can’t go wrong with any of them, really.”

  “Butter chicken it is,” Zach said affirmatively.

  Beth collected our menus and left us to ourselves to put our orders in with the kitchen.

  It was awkward. Lily scribbled her crayons, and I watched her, thankful she was there to give me something to focus on so I didn’t have to stare at the shark in front of me. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of him any other way.

  Zach cleared his throat. “So, Lily.”

  She looked up at him.

  He shifted in his place across the table. “You’re on summer break from school right now, yes?”

  Lily nodded. “Yep. But I still see my friends in daycare on Mondays and Wednesdays, and my teacher says I’m ready to start first grade in September.”

  “First grade, huh? That’s exciting.”

  Lily gave Zach an eager nod and put her crayon down. “I can’t wait. My friend Charles and I are going to be in the same class. And he’s really funny. And I can’t wait for math class. And reading time. And field trips!”

  Zach chuckled. It was a warm, buttery sound, and I tried to think of something other than the way my stomach tightened every time his forest-green eyes flicked in my direction. I chalked it up to hunger. Surely, that was all it was.

  “Math was one of my favorite subjects in school when I was a kid,” Zach said.

  “Really?” Lily asked. “Momma hates math. But I think that’s just ‘cause she’s no good at it.”

  “Lily,” I said, trying to sound stern but unable to stop the laugh that punctuated the word.

  Zach grinned. “I bet your momma is more of an English person, am I right?”

  Lily looked at me. “Are you?”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Yes.”

  Zach leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands together on the table. “English always knocked me on my butt in school. Until I had a good teacher who introduced me to books that were more up my alley.”

  “What sort of books?” I asked.

  Lily returned to her coloring.

  Zach shrugged. “Several of them. Kurt Vonnegut. Harper Lee. Stephen King.”

  “Your teacher let you read Stephen King?” I asked. “Let me guess—Pet Sematary?”

  “No actually. The Gunslinger and The Stand.”

  “What?” That surprised me.

  “Do I not strike you as the type to enjoy some good old-fashioned fantasy by the great Stephen King?”

  “No. You don’t. You strike me as more of the self-help, nonfiction, ‘how to seize life by the gonads’ sort of type.”

  Zach threw his head back and laughed.

  The sound of it startled me, and I flinched. Then I found myself giggling along with him—involuntarily, of course—because he was still my enemy, despite how endearing his full-tilt bout of boisterous laughter was.

  Damn him.

  Why’d he have to be so cute and have such a good laugh to boot?

  The combination was my kryptonite.

  When Zach recovered, he leaned forward once more, this time dropping his voice to talk to Lily in an almost conspiratorial tone. “Your momma is a pretty funny lady, Lily.”

  “I know,” Lily said simply, remaining focused on coloring within the lines of the turtle’s now pink and orange shell.

  Our pizzas arrived within the next ten minutes. They were served on wood trays straight out of the brick oven in the back. Zach peered down at his meal, eyes wide with anticipation. “This looks delicious.”

  “You have no idea,” Lily and I said, nearly in unison.

  I cut bite-sized pieces up for Lily for her first piece. By the time she made her way through that piece, the rest of the pizza had cooled, and she was able to eat each slice like a big girl. I’d burned myself once on the cheese of a freshly baked pizza, and I didn’t want that to happen to her.

  We all enjoyed our meal. Zach and Lily talked about everything under the sun—school, turtles, Charles, me, her dreams and aspirations of becoming a store owner just like her mother— or a paleontologist.

  “A paleontologist?” Zach asked, clearly enamored with my daughter. She was a little charmer. I’d give her that. “Why?”

  Lily took a bite of pizza. A long string of cheese hung from her chin, and I wiped it off with my thumb. She swallo
wed her bite. “Because I like old stuff.”

  Zach looked at me. “Well, that’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

  “She’s an independent woman,” I said.

  “Wonder where she gets that?” Zach mused.

  I looked down as I felt my cheeks grow warm.

  God damn it, Senna. Get your shit together. He’s a bloodsucking developer, and he’s here to charm your pants off for a reason. To change your mind. He’s conning you.

  The rest of the meal went well. Zach paid the bill at the end, walked us back out to the Land Rover, and then drove us back to the shop where my car was parked. He shook my hand and then crouched down in front of Lily.

  “Thank you for letting me take you to dinner, Lily. And for recommending Via 313. It was delicious. No pizza will ever taste as good.” He held out his hand.

  Lily offered him hers and clutched the hem of her dress with the other hand. She giggled shyly as he kissed her knuckles, and when he let her go, she clung to my leg and buried her face in my thigh.

  “Goodnight, Zach,” I said. “Thank you for dinner. It was surprisingly enjoyable.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “I do not expect to see any more flowers in my shop.”

  He bowed dramatically. “I am a man of my word. No flower will cross the threshold of Lily Living on my account. I swear.” He drew an X across his heart with his index finger.

  I nodded. “Good.”

  After Zach got in his vehicle and drove away, Lily looked up at me. “I like him, Momma. He’s nice.”

  “He’s a gentleman,” I said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her statement. He had behaved in a gentlemanly manner. That was as generous of a word as I was going to offer him. He was great with my daughter, though, and I appreciated that.

  But he had ulterior motives, and no amount of charm would make me forget it.

  Chapter 13

  Zach

  “Ouch.” I winced as I scalded my tongue on my coffee.

  Jonah sat across the table from me on the patio near the pool at the hotel, and he looked up with a furrowed brow. “Careful. It’s coffee. It’s hot.”

  “Shut up,” I grumbled, pressing my raw tongue to the roof of my mouth.

  Jonah snickered before taking a dainty sip of his own coffee, which would not have been as hot due to the copious amounts of creamer he liked. He set it down on its designated saucer and then cast his eyes around the patio. “I will concede. This is the life, man.”

  Our table was perched on the edge of the patio and separated from the pool by a glass partition. On each fence post was a bloom of flowers, around which a few lazy bees buzzed. During the evenings, the posts glowed with changing colors, matching those of the lights in the pool.

  The pool itself was a sprawling beast cut through the outdoor patio in the shape of a peanut. A lazy river darted out from one side to take a circuit around a cluster of trees and bushes hosting more bright flowers and undoubtedly more bees.

  Even now, at ten in the morning, there were people in the water. Most were kids or fathers with their kids. The wives and mothers lingered on pool chairs with their books or their phones, legs stretched out before them in an attempt to take up as much space as possible in order to get the best tan.

  “It’s not bad,” I said.

  “Not bad?” Jonah asked, incredulous. “Dude, this is the shit other people dream about. Luxury accommodations any time you’re sent out of town on a job? All-inclusive meals and drinks? A view?” He nodded at the line of women in the lawn chairs. “I mean, does it get any better than this?”

  “It can always be better.”

  “That’s a shitty way to look at things, Zach. You’re living the dream, and you don’t even know it.”

  “I’m living someone else’s definition of the dream,” I corrected, being bold as I reached for my coffee and blew on it.

  “That was oddly poetic.” Jonah opened his notebook, which rested on the table beside his coffee. He didn’t go anywhere without it. He scribbled my words at the top of a blank page. “Mind if I use it?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “You won’t be satisfied until you’re in line for Woodbury’s job, will you?”

  “Or until I create a similar position for myself. Probably not.”

  “There’s more to life than work, you know?”

  “I’m aware.”

  “But?”

  “But this fulfills me. And I like a challenge. And money.”

  Jonah shrugged. “Fair enough. You’ve always had taste that was a bit—extra.”

  I chuckled. “Extra?”

  “You know what I mean. The suits. The watches. The two-hundred-dollar haircuts.”

  I didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong. I liked luxury. I liked comfort and expensive things, and considering how hard I worked to earn them, I didn’t feel bad about it.

  Jonah leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “So how did dinner with Senna go last night? Did you make any progress?”

  “We didn’t talk business.”

  “What? Why? What was the point of dinner then?”

  “Baby steps, my friend. Baby steps. I had to find a way to get her to see me as something other than the guy trying to close down her business.”

  “Do you think it worked?”

  I shrugged. “She’s a very smart woman. And skeptical, too. I doubt one dinner was enough to change her mind. Although I will admit, I had fun with her kid.”

  “Her kid?” Jonah cocked his head to the side.

  I paused as a waitress came by and topped off our coffees. After she moved on to the next table, I said, “Yeah. Remember how I said she has a daughter? She’s six, I think. Her name is Lily, and she’s pretty darn funny for a kid.”

  Jonah narrowed his eyes, suspicious now. “You should be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t think you might be taking it a bit too far by involving the kid? I mean, how confusing could that be for her?”

  I hesitated with my coffee halfway to my lips, which was a lucky thing. I probably would have burned myself again. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. You have the emotional intelligence of a bullfrog.”

  “Hey.”

  “It’s true. All I’m saying is from the kid’s perspective, you’re just some guy who is being really nice to her and her mom. And soon, you’ll be gone and so will her mother’s business. You think she won’t put two and two together?”

  “Even if she does, why does that matter?”

  “You’re a dumbass.”

  “Explain it to me. Please.”

  Jonah ran his hand down his face in exasperation. “Kids get attached, man. They can’t help it. You come in, and you woo their mother with flowers and dinner dates—”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “What do you think it felt like to Lily?”

  I paused, licked my lips, and frowned at my coffee cup.

  “Exactly,” Jonah said. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. You’re a good guy, man. Don’t put yourself in a position where you might become something else.”

  “Hmm.” I sipped my coffee. It was still hot as hell, and I nearly dropped the cup all over my lap. “Motherfucking hell.”

  Jonah was a good friend and didn’t laugh. Instead, he offered me one of his extra napkins and slid his glass of ice water across the table. I took a sip, got lucky, and scored an ice cube. I sucked on it until it melted.

  Jonah wrote in his notebook the whole time.

  I was about to ask him how his project was going when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out and sighed as Ryan’s name flashed across the screen. “One sec, Jonah. I have to take this. Duty calls.”

  “Go ahead,” he said, and without even looking up, he waved me off with his free hand as he continued to write in nearly illegible sweeps of cursive.

  I stepped away from the table, left the pa
tio, and stood facing the pool outside the arched, flowery entrance to the poolside restaurant.

  “Good morning,” I said as pleasantly as I could manage.

  “Zach, tell me what progress you’ve made with the woman.”

  “What woman?” I asked, merely to fuck with him. He was an ass, and I was more than capable of being one myself, and he should at the very least know the names of the shop owners we were targeting. It was his job, after all.

  “The Camden woman. And the other one. What’s her name?”

  “Senna Camden and Edith Ford.”

  “Right. Whatever. Tell me about the progress you’ve made. I expected to hear from you by now.”

  “It’s only been a few days.”

  “You’ve been in Austin nearly a week.”

  “Well, yes,” I said, watching a little boy with water wings inch to the edge of the pool, lining his toes up with the lip. He stared down into the water, his eyes wide with fear. His father, who was in the pool, came closer and held out his arms, encouraging him to jump. I smiled. “I’ve been here for six days. But the weekend proved to be a bad time to do business. I’ve met and spoken with both shop owners, and we’re making headway. It’s slow, Ryan. This is a really sensitive case.”

  Ryan scoffed. “Too sensitive for the great Zach Hammel?”

  “Is Woodbury barking down your throat or something?”

  “What? No.”

  “Then don’t rush me. I’ll get this shit done, and when I do, you’ll know about it. You don’t know these women or their positions. I’m still figuring that out myself. I have to have a smart approach. Senna Camden has bested the four other developers who tried to take a run at her. I’m not going to fall into the same discard pile as them. Are we on the same page?”

  Ryan was quiet, seething most likely, and sitting behind his desk like the little paper pusher he was, barking orders and shitting on the heads of his employees but not doing any heavy lifting himself. “Fine, but I expect you to keep me in the loop, Zach. I don’t want to have to call you again for information.”

  “I can do that.”

  “You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m asking too much of you by telling you to do your damn job.”

 

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