Twisted Luck Read online

  “Who are you people?” I wiped more confetti from my eyes and blinked away the lingering stars.

  “Why, we’re from Star Network, and of course, you’ve won the Make My Day Lucky contest!”

  “I’m sorry. I was up late and just woke up. What did I win?”

  “An all expenses paid trip to Costa Rica for two and some cold, hard cash. And because The Star Network cares, we’re donating the same cash prize to a charity of your choice.” More confetti went off in my face, along with another annoying flash. A smattering of applause made me wince.

  “I don’t remember entering.” I didn’t enter crap like that, but Jessie, my ex best friend, had lived for the quick win. Maybe she’d entered my name.

  “Well, you did.” The woman tugged me closer. “Look.” She dropped her voice a few octaves. “Try to look excited and grateful, okay? My job is riding on this, for Pete’s sake.”

  I blinked. “It’s Sunday morning—”

  “Afternoon,” she corrected with a fake smile the size of the Grand Canyon.

  “Well, hell. I was up late.” I forced the same smile, and the flash went off again. “At least I’ll have funds to pay for the loss of vision.”

  “And then some.”

  I smiled for a few more pictures, got the detailed letter on the trip, and was told I could not keep the larger-than-life check. They started packing their cameras to leave, and thankfully, one guy took a broom and dust pan to the confetti on my rug. I was already in enough trouble with the eviction process. I didn’t need them calling attention to me.

  I shut the door behind me on an exhausted breath and wandered back into my bedroom. A suspicious part of me sniffed and caught a faint whiff of male cologne with a note of citrus.

  I swallowed back images of me kissing a chiseled, stubbled jaw, inhaling that cologne… No. Head spinning, I inhaled again to prove myself wrong. This time, I caught the scent of…sex.

  I marched to the bed and yanked off the top sheet. The bottom sheet, wrinkled and mussed, looked clean. See? No sex. I tugged the bottom to tuck it in, and a wrinkle peeled back, smoothing to reveal one single blood stain about the size of a quarter.

  My heart hammered in my throat, and my hand drifted up as if to catch it and keep it inside my chest. I peered closer at that blood and found it to be elongated, more of smear than a droplet. And oddly…it resembled my signature.

  “O-kay,” I muttered. “This is not some creepy Rorschach blood spot test. I didn’t give my virginity to some stranger, either.” I did the mental count for my cycle. “I’m…spotting. Yes. That’s it.”

  I jerked the sheets from the bed and balled them up, stomping to the hamper. I quickly squirted some stain remover on the spot and rubbed it in with vigor that made my hands ache.

  But what if…

  I paused mid-rub.

  I remembered…condoms.

  I dropped the sheet and ran to my room, searching the trash can, under the bed. Nothing. The bathroom was sparkly clean, too. I rubbed a hand through my hair, tugging the long strands as if to help me remember better. It wouldn’t be like me to curse a fastidious lover. I liked things neat and tidy, and the idea of no condoms was…gross.

  Remembering condoms was good, though. That meant if those naughty flashes were real and not my imagination, I was protected. I had an implant thingie for the pregnancy risk; I was no fool. I had wanted David to jump my bones, and I’d prepared everything for the big moment to happen much sooner than our wedding night. But given my streak of bad luck, an unprotected encounter with a stranger could lead to crotch cooties I didn’t want.

  I shivered.

  In the other room, my phone dinged. I shuffled back and picked it up. My mother had texted, reminding me of dinner plans to meet her fiancé’s son. My stepbrother-to-be, if all went her way.

  How could I forget when it was all she’d talked about all week long? And of course the restaurant was expensive, requiring me to actually shave and dress like a lady. The way my luck was running, I’d get a flat tire on the way over, have to change it myself, and I’d end up grease-stained under Samuel’s disapproving gaze.

  My mother’s boyfriend, Samuel Weston, was the head of a vast business conglomerate and was the epitome of Fortune 500 success—tall, dashing, incredibly handsome, and richer than God. She’d met him through a friend’s recommendation for her services. She owned a design business for upscale homes and offices.

  They’d met; he’d liked her work and hired her to renovate his main office. When the job wrapped, he’d put the designs on her so to speak. Cheesy, I know, but I’d never seen her happier. She glowed when she was with him, laughed all the time, and seemed loved and cherished.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t just…accept it.

  Samuel oozed power, charm, and charisma, and I could tell he liked things to be just so in a fussy way that didn’t match mine. A proper order, I guess, one that hinted of his European upbringing. Me being greasy…not acceptable.

  And my guess was that his son—my soon-to-be-stepbrother—would be the apple that fell not far from the tree.

  Because that was just my luck.

  ****

  I blew into the restaurant ten minutes late, adjusting wisps of hair as I walked from the parking lot to the lobby of the elegantly appointed Driftwood Resort and Spa, owned by Weston Enterprises. Meaning Samuel owned it, along with several more.

  A dash of pride warmed my heart as I took in the renovations my mom’s company had designed. The update was elegant, refined, and tasteful, and though I hated eating at the upscale restaurants Samuel insisted we haunt, I felt more at home here than anywhere else.

  My mom’s special touch did that.

  The hostess led me to my mother’s table. As we rounded the corner into the very elegant dining hall, I could get why Mom was so hot for Samuel. Tall, good-looking in a European way, with a chiseled jaw and the most gorgeous, dark brown eyes. I thought he was European because he had the most delightful accent I couldn’t quite place. He had just a touch of gray lacing his black hair at the temples and sideburns, and it made him that much hotter.

  But today…he looked familiar in a way I couldn’t place, in a way that had nothing to do with his whirlwind romance with my mom.

  Samuel leaned in and whispered to my mom, indicating my arrival. He elegantly rose, his dark gray slacks and jacket perfectly pressed, his crisp white shirt open at the throat to reveal just a smattering of dark hair.

  “Olivia.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek, his aftershave always an intoxicating scent. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He helped me into my chair, and my mother patted my hand. I loved that she looked so happy and rejuvenated under Samuel’s indulgent smile. She brushed aside a lock of short, blonde hair as she gave me a quick perusal. Most people would think it to check out my attire, but I knew better. Mom wanted to know—really know—that I was all there. That I was safe. Some things would never change.

  “You look gorgeous.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Leo will think so, too.”

  Leo. “The last thing I need is Leo having the hots for me.”

  “Nonsense.” She handed me a menu. “Any luck with your state of affairs?”

  “Um.” I peered at the salad selection with faked intensity. She didn’t need to know about the Costa Rica prize or my dirty adventures. What she wanted to know was if the bank had found out any news on the money stolen from my account. “It’s Sunday, Mom. These things take time and business days.”

  Gentle lines creased at her mouth and around her blue eyes. “You know I’m worried.”

  I smiled to ease her fears. “I know. I appreciate it.”

  “I wish you’d let me handle this,” Samuel grumbled as he set down his wine glass with a little more force than needed.

  “I appreciate your assistance, but let’s be patient. I’d rather call in your white knight skills for something better.” I shot him what I hoped was a gr
ateful smile.

  I knew nothing about Samuel, and a part of me worried he was entangled with a dark source of “knights” that brandished guns and held grudges. I didn’t want his help, but I sure as hell didn’t want to piss him off.

  He already had a strong enough hold over my mother, a hold I felt uneasy about. He’d changed her in ways I couldn’t name or place. My mom had a lot of great qualities, but he just seemed…well…to be searching, or trying to grasp something. Mom was happily oblivious and proved this with a giggle as he kissed her cheek and then her lips.

  “Hey now, no PDA,” I joked. “Tell me about your wedding plans.”

  “Oh, Olivia…” And that was enough to send my mother into a fit of waved hands and descriptions punctuated with a stellar, beamed smile toward my soon-to-be stepdad.

  “Are you sure you have to get married this soon?” They were looking at dates a month away, and that worried me, too. Way too fast considering the length of time they’d been together.

  She patted my hand. I usually left a dinner with faint bruises, she patted it so much. “If you’re worried about the expenses with your money issues, you know we’ll cover it. Anything for my maid of honor.”

  “Mom—”

  “Of course we’ll pay,” Samuel said with a smooth yet warm smile. “This wedding isn’t going to break our bank account.”

  “I know. Mom has been making sure everything is tasteful but within budget.” A budget she had set, not him. He’d said to spend whatever she wanted. Which was nice, and maybe I was a bitch to be suspicious… “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever shown an interest in your business, Samuel. Maybe your company would have a position I’d be able to fill sometime soon. I could drop off a resume.”

  My mom’s head snapped around hard enough to make her neck crack. “What? Why would you want to do that?”

  Oh, shit. I hadn’t told her about being fired. “Just keeping my options open, Mom.”

  “I thought you loved working with this firm.”

  “I did. Do. Do very much.” I did up until Friday, anyway. I turned to Samuel. “I wasn’t sure if you were into hiring…family.”

  An expression flittered across Samuel’s face that edged on the dark side.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’d consider you.” My mom beamed at Samuel with love and adoration. “Leo works for him. Remember?”

  Leo...the son. I turned to Samuel. “I recall you mentioning Leo returning home to deal with issues in your company.”

  The suave smile returned to Samuel’s firm lips. “Yes. It’s nice to be able to depend on someone to pick up the slack when needed. He’s the perfect right-hand man.”

  “And what exactly does he do?”

  Samuel shot me an odd glance. “He’s in charge of acquisitions. All sorts of acquisitions.”

  I rolled my eyes mentally. Leo sounded dreadfully boring.

  The waitress arrived and took my drink order, and I went for broke and got something fruity with rum, but I asked them to put in only a splash. I hoped it came in a big-assed pineapple cup, and Samuel cried when he got the bar tab.

  Samuel cocked his head. “No tequila sunrise today?”

  “Um, no. I’m branching out.” Forever, probably. No more weird, tequila-induced dreams for me.

  My mom smiled at him again, and the good, guilty daughter returned. He just wanted to care for her and despite my reluctance, care for me. Maybe that’s why I got so testy about him being in her life now. I’d always taken care of Mom. It was my job.

  Now it was his.

  The waitress returned with my drink, complete with little pink umbrella, accompanied by a manager or host or something given the very proper dress.

  “Congratulations!” She set the glass down in front of me. “You’re the one hundredth person to order our very special Rum Surprise cocktail.”

  “How lucky of me.” Unease trickled down my spine, dampening the back of my dress. I just didn’t win prizes. I’d never won anything except for five bucks at bingo when my nana had dragged me along. But twice in one day…

  That haunting, male laugh echoed in my brain, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What do I get?”

  “One free meal per day for a month, compliments of Weston Enterprises.”

  “A whole month?” I could do some damage in a month, especially if I had no income and was living out of my car. I could spruce up at my mother’s and live off lobster and cheesecake every day. If my life turned around, I could donate the prize to someone in need. “Sweet. Thank you.”

  My mother scooped up the certificate the waitress had left behind and examined it. “I told you your luck would turn. Did you light the candles Samuel gave me? It was a full moon last night, just like the instructions suggested for optimal good luck.”

  “She lit them?” Samuel’s head jerked, and his shoulders tensed slightly. “Don’t tease her into thinking those things work, Muriel. It’s just a family…joke.”

  I bristled. I don’t know why, but he just irritated me tonight. “Yes, I lit them for a little before I went out, but I don’t believe in that sort of thing. You know that, Mom.”

  “I know, but every little bit helps.” She patted my hand again. “You seemed pretty down when we spoke on Friday.”

  “It happens.” I hated bursting my Mom’s bubble with crap from my life.

  “What if…” Mom glanced from Samuel to me. “You need a roommate, Olivia. Samuel mentioned that Leo will need a place to live.”

  “There’s room at the house,” Samuel interjected, and I never liked him more. I didn’t need a man under foot.

  Lips pursed with determination, my mother pointed out, “Yes, but you also said the two of you don’t always see eye-to-eye.”

  “Can I just meet the guy first?” I hated my mother’s romantic streak. I took a huge swig of my drink, slurping from the pink straw with eager abandon. Anything to get them to discuss something else.

  There must have been a ton of alcohol in that sucker because it hit my stomach like a stone and immediately my skin heated, warming in a delicious, tantalizing way that I could only label creepy. Immediate horniness washed over me, and that was so wrong.

  “Wow.” I fanned my flushed face. “Strong.”

  My mom’s look of concern changed to indulgence. “Enjoy. Maybe the idea of dating Leo will look better with a drink or two.”

  “Mom! Stop.” I looked to see if Samuel had overheard that, but he was striding across the room with a huge grin on his face. A huge, potted plant hid whomever he greeted from my view.

  Leo.

  I hid behind the menu, but curiosity got the best of me. They chatted for a moment, Leo’s back facing me. I had to admit, I liked the way his shoulders filled out his jacket.

  “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

  “I’m not interested, Mom.” I studied the menu, frustrated that the horny sensation grew inside me. Something suspiciously hot and dangerous and filled with lust, all at the same time. It had to be the rum. I wasn’t touching that again, either.

  “Well, here he is,” Samuel boomed as a double set of steps clacked on the floor tiles, halting next to the table. “Muriel. Olivia. May I present my son, Leo?”

  I looked up over the edge of the menu. No. Every ounce of blood drained from my face to pool in my core.

  Mr. Perfect from the bar stood before me, his hands in his pockets. Familiar brown eyes zeroed in on mine, his gaze amused and glittering, the lines of his lips curving in a possessive, perfect smile.

  I blinked, hoping he’d disappear like a good figment of my imagination, because no way in hell could he be real. None of that was real.

  His grin widened and became something dirty and wicked, much like the grin he’d given me after he’d licked the tequila off my belly.

  “It’s such a pleasure, Leo.” My mother rose and embraced the thief of my virginity. “I feel like I know you already. Welcome.”

  “Thank you, Mrs.—”

  “Muriel,” my mot
her supplied as she pulled away from his hug.

  “Muriel.” He offered her a warm smile then turned to me and cocked his head. “And this is your beautiful daughter, Olivia.”

  “Yes, of course.” Mom practically beamed. “I’ve been waiting what feels like forever for her to meet you. I just have this feeling… I don’t know. That the two of you will be thick as thieves.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” He laughed as he skirted the table and uncurled my hand from the tablecloth, cradling it in his. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand that seared my skin.

  His lips sent zings of need and pleasure straight to my traitor nether regions. That aftershave… Oh God, it seized my senses and gave me flashes of naughty, wicked things that I’d done after he’d taken my virginity. Things a porn queen wouldn’t do.

  His smile dripped with victory and possession. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Olivia,” Mom prompted in a tone that ended in a worried note. “Say something.”

  “It’s okay, Muriel.” Leo stroked the back of my hand with this thumb, sending zings of electricity along my skin. “I’m sure she’s feeling the same way I am.”

  “I am?” I choked out.

  Mom looked a little more relieved that I’d spoken.

  “Yes.” Those glittering, dark eyes took in my lips, dipped to my aching breasts then met mine again with something that smacked of triumph. “I bet she’s feeling like this is her lucky day.”

  Chapter Three

  As I sat in the extravagant restaurant, stunned and shocked, bluffing my way through one of the most horrible meals of my life, I realized I had to give having a really shitty childhood some credit.

  I’d had to fake my way through a lot of shady, dangerous things as a kid to stay alive. Despite the years gone by and the strength I’d gained, I found myself slipping into that numb hole where the horror is squashed and muted so the show could go on. I’d come out on the other side and have to feel it all. Digest it all. But for now, I was on autopilot.

  I found the power to fake polite and interested through Samuel’s conversations, though I couldn’t think deeply enough to add much. I smiled at all the right times when my mother glanced over, and from the vibes I got from her, my act was working.