Lucky Break (Lucky 3)

Jason caught Mark on his cell phone and explained he’d be getting a request from a woman who’d need renovations in a short period of time.

“No problem, I can fit her in,” Mark assured him.

“No, you can’t. You’re too busy.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“Because I want the job.”

“Then why didn’t she just hire you?” Mark asked.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his swivel chair. Mark was like a damn girl. He wouldn’t do a favor without knowing the reasons behind it.

“Let’s say we have a history and she’d rather not deal with me again,” Jason said.

He recalled Lauren’s expression when she’d realized he was the answer to her renovation dilemma and held back a laugh. The attraction between them was so strong it was a live, tangible thing and it obviously frightened her. But she was leaving town in a little over a month. Why not indulge while she was here?

“I’ll be damned, Corwin. You’re finally interested in women again. I was beginning to wonder if you’d taken a vow of celibacy.”

“You’re a laugh riot, Miller. So you’ll do it?”

“Why not. What did you say her name was again?”

“Lauren Perkins.”

“Damn, you know how to pick ’em,” Mark said, laughing. “Aren’t you afraid the curse is going to bite you in the ass?”

Jason rolled his eyes. Everybody thought they were a comedian. “Thanks. I owe you one,” he said, ignoring the gibe. Satisfied the other man would turn down the job, Jason hung up the phone.

Still leaning back in his chair, he glanced at the ceiling and thought of Mark’s question. Did it bother him that Lauren was a Perkins?

Now, as back then, the answer was the same. Not at all. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that a centuries-old spell had been responsible for Kristina and Rusty’s actions, even if he had lost the woman and his fortune.

Recalling how he’d felt when he’d discovered their betrayal, Jason felt a twinge of guilt at manipulating Lauren’s situation to fit his needs. But this wasn’t the same thing. He wasn’t looking to hurt her. He was giving her what she really wanted.

What they both wanted.

He might have to maneuver things to fall into place but he wouldn’t lie to her. She’d figure out what he’d done and eventually she’d thank him for it. Of that he was certain.

He knew her intimately. He understood what she wanted. And that changed the rules.

WHAT WERE the chances of both contractors being too busy to take on Lauren’s renovation project? And what was she going to do about it?

She walked through the house, making an inventory of the obvious damages, and there were many. From broken windows to funky noises coming from the boiler, she had problems. She’d called both contractors back and begged them to fit her grandmother’s house into their busy schedules-to no avail. But each man had highly recommended Jason Corwin.

If she was going to hire Jason, she needed a glass of wine and a long talk with an old friend first, so she’d invited Sharon over for a drink.

Lauren set out the wine in the den. Unlike the office with bookshelves full of legal tomes, old volumes and framed pictures of Mary Perkins in various official capacities, this room had no overt reminders of Lauren’s grandmother and her term as mayor, and Lauren thought Sharon would be more comfortable in here.

Sharon arrived at eight o’clock. Lauren poured two glasses of wine, handed one to her friend and settled down beside her. “Thanks for coming over.” Lauren took a sip of the Chardonnay she’d found in her grandmother’s wine rack and hoped the alcohol would go to her head quickly.

She was so uptight about hiring Jason, afraid of how easily she could fall for him again, she needed a buzz to take the edge off.

Sharon took a long sip, too. “I have to admit, your grandmother had good taste in wine.”

Any compliment to Lauren’s family was huge coming from Sharon, and Lauren smiled in appreciation. “Thank you. And thanks for coming. I know it can’t be easy hanging out in this house.”

Sharon waved away the sentiment. “The company is more important than the setting.”