Miss Fortune (4 page)

She groaned, debated what to do, and inadvertently caught sight of herself in the reflection of the back windshield. Her face was the exact shade of a fireplug. The exact shade . It wasnt enough that she was soaked and probably reekingshe had to herald her terribly out-of-shape body to the world with a fireplug face. Even worse, small corkscrews of hair around her face stuck out in every conceivable direction. She looked like she had stuck her finger into a light socket.

Time to call Dagne to come save her. Later, she could get Dagne or Myron to bring her back for her car. Rachel fished in her bag for her brand-new T-Mobile cell phone but it wasnt in her bag, and she remembered leaving it on the kitchen counter. Oooh, fabulous . A big fat splat of something landed on top of her head, and she glanced up, got hit in the eye by another fat raindrop. She looked around, saw the coffeehouse, and made a mad sort of half-hobbling, half-loping dash for it.

The place was jammed to the rafters with toned and beautiful bodies, all drinking coffee and poring over books and laptops and looking very stylish and hip. In a sort of ironic contrast, she looked a little like a Holstein cow in her black yoga pants and white tank. And what was up with always putting phones and toilets in the back of establishments? Was that some sort of national code?

Rachel sucked in her breath, lowered her eyes, and with her head down, marched through the crowd, hitting at least two people in the head and shoulders with her gym bag.

At the phone bank, she dug in her bag for change, and pulled out wads of money. Literally, wads of balled up billsa ten, a fiver, three ones. But no change. Not a quarter, not a dime, not one lousy penny.

With a sigh of great irritation, Rachel glanced around. This was really just too muchwhere were all the fabulous things that were supposed to happen to her, according to Dagne and several horoscopes? The prosperity and happiness and all that crap? And man, it was so warm in theresomeone needed to crack a window or something. Well anyway, one thing was certainwhen she got hold of Dagne, she was going to let her know that her stupid spells werent working for shit

I beg your pardon, but might I be of assistance?

Rachel froze in the maniacal search of her bag, wondered if that question had been actually addressed to her, and slowly looked up and up at a very handsome man with a sexy British accent. He was smiling. His gorgeous blue-gray eyes sort of shimmered in a pool of dark lashes, and a strand of his thick chestnut hair actually fell over one eye. He was wearing a well-cut dark pinstripe suit and a long trench coat that looked very expensive, like hed just walked off the set of a James Bond movie. A horrible swell of panic surged in Rachelthe guy was movie-star gorgeous and standing so close that he could probably smell her .

You look as if you could use a hand, eh? he asked, grinning lopsidedly as he fished in his pocket.

Dear God, she was gaping at him like shed never seen a man before, and unthinkingly jerked backward, away from him, and almost killed herself, thank you, by impaling herself on the little box around the pay phone. But forget that, because she suddenly remembered the little wisps of hair sticking up all over her head and thought she might actually die of embarrassment. Just expire cold, right there.

No, ah, no she managed to get out, smiling sheepishly. No, thank you, but Ive definitely got it, she said, and whirled around, her hand still shoved in her bag, frantically searching for a coin, any coin. JUST A COIN, DAMMIT!

Ive got a bit of change if youd like, he continued, and Rachel, her back to him, shook her head, felt one of the tight coils of her hair start to come undone. Thanks! Ive got it! she said to the wall.

He made a noise that sounded a little like a chuckle. Which meant, of course, that now the movie-star guy was laughing at her. How dare he laugh at her? She shot him a glance over her shoulder, but he wasnt really laughing at all. He was just smiling and really very warmly, showing some very white and very straight teeth for a Brit.

I dont think youve got it at all, really, he said, holding out his hand. Ive some coins here, he said, opening the palm of his hand and studying the coins there. Ah, here we are, he said cheerfully, and held up two quarters.

Rachel looked at the quarters and wondered, madly, if her face was still fireplug red, or please, God, had it calmed down a little, to maybe just cherry red?

He mistook her silence as refusal and said congenially,

The thing is, you obviously havent got the proper change and Im really quite happy to help.

Okay, okay, now she got itif a man who looked like him, all buff and handsome and wearing a suit, was talking to her, it was probably one of those reality TV things

He cocked his head and dipped it a little bit to see her better, and Rachel instantly swiped the back of her arm across her forehead. Right. Well, then, if youd be so kind as to take the quarters and perhaps ring whomever you are ringing so the rest of us might have a go? he asked, gesturing toward the phone. I dont mean to impose, but I really need to make a call.

Oh! she said, and began frantically searching her bag again. Im sorry, I dont mean to hold you up, but I cant take your quarters because I have quarters, if I could just get to the bottom of my bag, she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Why dont you go ahead?

I couldnt possibly take your place in the queue, he said, looking at her bag. Youve quite a large bag there.

Yes, its very big, because I have lots of Well, junk, really. Important stuff. Lots of it, she muttered.

Bonny Prince Charlie just stood there, smiling down at her, until it became apparent to even her that she was not going to magically produce two quarters, and she sighed.

I rather thought youd see it my way, he said happily, and leaned forward, his arm extended, coming right at her then around her ! To the phone, to be precise, which put him in dangerously close proximity to her sweaty self.

Rachel gasped with humiliationthere was no way he couldnt smell her now. I wouldnt do that if I were you! she cried, and tried to move, but managed to impale herself once more on the phone, box. Ow, she whimpered. Ow, ow, ow.

Mind the box, James Bond said with a chuckle, and blithely continued reaching around her, to the phone itself. Before you go all barmy on me, he said, his voice pleasantly soft as his gaze flicked from her face to her appallingly red bosom, I promise you may have the quarters.

I wont demand interest or the like, he said, his nose as yet unwrinkled, as he deposited one quarter. But I wouldnt mind a bit if you determined you were so indebted to me that you might buy me a cup of tea with the five you dropped on the floor. He deposited the second quarter.

Rachel blinked, stole a glimpse at the floor without actually moving. There it was, a crumpled five-dollar bill at her feet. Oh, man, she said, and slid down to her haunches to pick it up, then stood so quickly that she banged the top of her head into his arm, which was now holding the receiver out to her. Oops. Sorry, she said, wincing again.

He smilingly offered the phone. Quite all right. So then, Ive only just arrived and its rather dreary out, isnt it? I could use a spot of tea, how about you? Here you are your call?

All right, now she was mortified to the tips of her toeswas he playing some sort of mind game, asking her to tea? What in Gods name was he doing in Providence, anyway? He should be in London, stepping off the tube with some dish, walking to some posh and trendy pub.

Rachel snatched the phone from his hand, punched Dagnes numbers into the phone, and silently begged her to pick up the goddamn phone. On the fourth ring, when she had decided that God was indeed smiting her and was not going to help her in the least because she had played around with witchcraft, Dagne picked up. Hello? she said sleepily.

Dagne! Rachel hissed, whirling around so that her back was to Prince Charming. Come and get me!

Why? Where are you? she asked through a yawn.

At the gym

Hey! You didnt waste any time

Come and get me! she said again. If youre not here in five minutes

Why? Wheres your car? Wait a minutedoes Myron have it? Because if Myron took your car

No, no, its here! But Im blocked in and I really, really need to go.

Whats the hurry?

Dagne ! Rachel hissed.

All right , Dagne said, obviously irritated. Ill be there in a few. But this better be good! She hung up.

Rachel put the receiver in the cradle, turned slowly toward the Brit, and pulled her gym bag around in front of her stomach. She flashed a self-conscious smile. Thanks, she said. That was really very decent of you. I appreciate the help.

Youre quite welcome. And now that youve successfully completed your ringing operation, what do you say to that cup of tea?

If Dagne had put some sort of spell on her that made her attract handsome men, she was going to kill her. Oh gee, Im sorry, I really cant, she said quickly, stepping around him. Ive got a a really important appointment Ive got to get to. But, ah thanks. Thanks so much. She flashed him another quick smile, clutched her bag closely to her body, and mowed her way out of the coffeehouse.

She got one last look at the to-die-for Brit as she pushed through the glass doors. He was standing at the phone, staring after her, a sort of bemused look on his face.

Seriously, she was going to kill Dagne.

DAGNE was, predictably, very excited about Rachels brush with royalty in a trench coat. See ? she insisted. Witchcraft does work.

Did you put some sort of spell on me? Rachel demanded as she emerged from Dagnes shower, wrapped in a towel.

No! And why didnt you buy him a cup of tea? she cried, punching Rachel in the arm.

Are you nuts? Rachel rubbed her arm where Dagne had punched her. Did you see me? I was sweaty and red-faced and I must have stunk to high heaven!

Yeah I see what you mean, Dagne said, wrinkling her nose.

Oh thanks, Rachel muttered miserably. Dont you have a spell for that? Heres a drink so you wont stink , something along those lines?

Thats not nice, Dagne said, which prompted another argument about witchcraft that continued until Trading Spaces came on, at which point it was abruptly halted, as both couples hated their new rooms.

Afterward, when Rachels hair had dried, Dagne dropped her at her car with one last lecture about seizing opportunity when it presented itself. Sure, Dagne could say that. She was tall and willowy and strawberry blond. Bitch.

As Dagne drove off, Rachel glanced at the coffeehouse and wondered if he was still in there. Maybe having tea with some other unsuspecting cow. Or with a really pretty girl, thanking his lucky stars he hadnt roped himself into a tea date with a fireplug.

Whatever. Shed had her brush with gorgeous and shrugged it off, got in her car, and drove to the organic grocery store.

She returned to her house under the cloak of dusk so the Valicielos couldnt see her. As she turned into her drive, she saw Myrons faded red Geo Metro parked next to the house.

Great.

As she struggled through the kitchen door with two huge grocery bags, Myron waved at her from his seat at the breakfast bar, where he was having a sandwich. He was the kind of guy who did his food shopping in his friends refrigerators.

Hey, he said as Rachel fumbled the grocery bags onto the countertop.

Hey, she said, and, getting the bags down, pushed the hair from her eyes. What are you doing here?

Eating a sandwich, he said, holding up a disgustingly stuffed triple-decker salami (salami she had bought expressly because Myron said he loved it and wished she had some). Where you been?

The gym.

The gym ? He laughed as if that was the most hilarious thing hed ever heard. So hey, Pete Lancaster is doing a poetry reading tonight, he continued once he was through laughing. You wanna go?

I cant. I have my weaving class tonight. She moved to put the milk away and noticed the brownie pan. An empty brownie pan, in which there previously had been four good-sized brownies left. Dammit, Myron, you ate my brownies! she exclaimed hotly.

Myron paused in his chewing and looked at the empty pan, surprised, then shrugged. You didnt leave a note or anything, he said, flipped the long tail of his hair over his shoulder, and took another enormous bite of salami sandwich. So whatd you get at the store? he asked shamelessly.

Food. She peevishly shoved her hand into the paper bag and began to withdraw the contents and put them away.

Got any sodas?

In there, she said, gesturing toward the pantry, the same place she had kept the sodas for the two years shed known Myron. She watched him get up off the stool, hitch up baggy corduroy slacks over his bony butt, and recalled Dad shouting at her about worthless Myron. Well, the joke was on Dad, hardy har har, because her love life was on the shelf.

Okay, so Dad and the rest of the family thought Myron Tidwell was her boyfriend. But Myron was not her boyfriend and he hadnt been in a very long time. Rachel had just never had the guts to tell Mom and Dad that it was over with Myron because thered be a whole big thing about her never having boyfriends and all that.

She and Myron had been an item for two whole semesters, a personal best for her. He taught early colonial history. Rachel had taken his class and thought he was so cool thenhe had long, thick hair he wore in a ponytail, cords, and crewneck sweaters, and was casually laid back when he talked.

One afternoon, Myron asked her to stay after class to talk about some of the little doodles she had drawn in her blue bookhearts, actuallyand that had been the beginning of a teacher-student relationship that had evolved into a boyfriend-girlfriend thing. But the whole thing had sort of died on the vine when it became clear that their interests in life and relationships were not the same.

As in, he was not that interested.

Unfortunately, that happened after Rachel had waited the requisite amount of time to make sure she actually had a boyfriend and had proclaimed it proudly to her family. And as they had never really expected her to have a boyfriend (in fact, theyd been just a little too surprised by it) Well, long story short, she and Myron had remained friends and she just never mentioned otherwise, preferring to go with the old what they dont know wont hurt them theory. It was easy to doshe was way up here in Rhode Island, they were way down there in Texas