My Lucky Groom (Summer Grooms Series) (10 page)

“Ventura? What are you doing?” Mary asked, striding into the
room and dropping her big floppy hat onto the bed. Ventura sat on the sofa with
a whole box of fortune cookies on the coffee table before her. She’d cracked open
nearly every one.

She kept pulling crescents apart and examining their slips
of paper. “Looking for something.”

“But I thought you said the ones from the grocery store were
no good? The special ones came from Chinese take-out?” Ventura nodded toward the
kitchen, and Mary peeked around the corner, spying two huge grocery bags from Zen’s
stuffed to the brim. Mounds of broken fortune cookies littered the kitchen
table, stacks of fortunes piled high.

Mary drew a breath and came and sat beside Ventura on the
sofa. “Okay. What’s going on?”

Ventura looked her way. “Did you know that nine out of ten
of these are repeats?”

“Well, no. Not specifically. But I guess now that you say
so, it makes sense. It’s like a Magic Eight Ball, right? There are probably a
set number of responses. Predictions. Whatever.”

Ventura set her jaw. “But in fourteen years there’s a single
fortune I’ve only gotten once.” And this hadn’t been for lack of trying.
Ventura had probably opened more fortunes cookies than any other girl on planet
Earth. She’d convinced herself long ago that if she could only find that same
fortune again, she’d be able to take her first receiving it as less of a sign. But
the truth was her receiving it at age eleven had been a defining moment. The
fortune promised her a certain kind of future, while her father had proved in
person that fairy-tale futures don’t exist.

After he’d left for Kenya, Ventura had never seen him again.
Not even once. At first, he’d sent post cards. One from Mozambique, another from
Nepal… He was traveling around the world, making his way as a journalist and
forgetting all about his family. Ventura’s sister later learned their dad had
made a new one. He’d married someone from Scotland and now lived Brazil, with a
much younger set of kids that he shared with his brand new wife. Ventura, Hope,
and her mom were collateral damage in his journalistic ambition. She’d never
really understood how he could have been heartless enough to leave them, when
that wasn’t the father she remembered. Over the years, Ventura grew to sadly understand
that the man she’d recalled was just an illusion. She’d never really known her
dad at all.

Mary glanced back toward the kitchen where hordes of
fortunes plastered the refrigerator. “Which one is it?”

“It’s not in there.”

“No?”

“I keep the special one in my wallet. With me all the time.”

“What does it say?”

Ventura shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Why not?” she said, her voice tinged with hurt. “I’m your
best friend.”

Ventura studied her kindly. “Of course you are. And I
wouldn’t change that for the world.”

“Then why…?”

“It’s personal, you know? So personal that it’s almost
become a secret wish.”

“You mean, like the kind someone makes on their birthday
when blowing out candles?”

“Like that exactly.”

“You’re afraid if you tell me, it won’t come true.”

Ventura felt her chin tremble. “Oh, Mary, what if it never
comes true?” She hunched forward with a sob, and Mary wound her arms around
her.

“Hey, you listen to me. If it’s a good one, then it’s bound
to. You’re a great person, Ventura. You deserve good things. They’ll happen.
Just you wait and see.”

“I think I love Richard!” Ventura wailed.

Mary pulled back with a start and met Ventura’s bleary eyes.
“What? You mean
,
you’re still crushing on him?”

“No!” Ventura sniffed. “I mean
,
I
want to have his babies.”

Mary’s eyes went wide. “Ricky and Elisa?”

Ventura nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. “And other
ones too.”

“Oh my God.” Mary tugged Ventura back toward her chest and
hugged her tight. “How on earth did this happen? What about Charles?”

“I don’t know,” Ventura said with a whimper. “He’s such a
great guy!”

Mary patted her back. “Does Richard feel the same?”

There was silence as Ventura collected her thoughts.

“Ventura?” Mary asked again. “Does Richard feel the same?”

She broke Mary’s embrace and grabbed a napkin off the coffee
table to dab her eyes. “He wants me to stay the nanny.”

“Ha!” Mary said, indignant. “So what? He can have his cake
and eat it too?”

“No, nothing like that. He wants us to continue as we were.
Totally on the level.”

“Can you do that?” Mary asked with concern.

Ventura drew a breath. “I don’t know.”

Mary stared out the window for a prolonged beat, as if
considering something. “Ventura,” she finally said, “there’s something I’ve
been meaning to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a new opening at the
Daily Globe
.”

“Really?”

“I’ve hesitated in mentioning it because you’ve been so
happy at Richard’s.”

For the first time in the past few hours, Ventura felt
hopeful. “But it’s in journalism, right?”

“In a way.” Mary grimaced. “Actually, I’m hiring my
replacement.”

Ventura blinked. “Mary,” she said with quick understanding.
“You’ve been promoted?”

“To Editorial Assistant,” Mary said, smiling proudly.

“That’s terrific.”

“Thanks. So you’ll consider it?”

Ventura stared at her as the weight of Mary’s words sank in.
Ventura might finally have an opportunity to break into journalism.
While working as an administrative assistant certainly wasn’t ideal,
it would be a start.
Still, she felt conflicted about leaving Ricky and
Elisa. She’d truly grown attached to those kids…and, obviously, far too
attached to their father.

“How soon do you need to know?”

Chapter Nine

Nanette stood in the foyer, dressed in a white-and-blue top
and bright red hot pants that showcased her varicose veins. “Are you girls sure
you won’t change your minds?” she asked as they scurried toward the door with a
picnic basket. “Kevin has some really nice friends.”

“I’m sure,” Mary whispered to Ventura with a giggle.

Ventura smiled brightly. “We already have dates, Nanette.
Remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said with a pleased purr. “One of
them’s on account of me.”

Yes. Ventura amazingly owed it to Nanette that she’d met
Charles. And Mary had Ventura to thank for meeting Jason. Now the four of them
would be double dating for the Fourth. Mary had packed supper for her and
Jason, while Charles had promised Ventura a special picnic. She was looking
forward to this day and getting far away from thoughts of working for the
Blakes. She was still considering Mary’s generous offer and was nearly certain
she would take it. Of course, she’d need to apply and likely compete against
others. It wasn’t a done deal, but having Mary influence the hiring would
certainly help.

“We’ll see you later,” Mary told Nanette, hurrying out the
door. It was a short walk to the Capitol, where they’d be meeting the boys.
Ventura could hear the National Symphony tuning up already. The weather was
pleasantly warm, with a light breeze blowing as dusk closed in. Ventura hadn’t
seen Richard since their night on the Ferris wheel. It had been nearly a week
now, but somehow, between downtown meetings and stints at the office, he’d
managed to keep himself hidden. Well, maybe that was for the best. She needed time
to forget about being in his arms, and space to explore her budding
relationship with Charles. He’d texted her all week in anticipation of this
event, wanting to ensure that his plans for homemade pesto, wine, and cheese
suited her taste. Ventura felt lucky to have met someone as nice as Charles and
was sure that—given the chance to know him better—she would like
him even more.

They circled the Capitol building, heading for its West
Lawn. “Ready for our big date?” Mary asked with a grin.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ventura said, nudging Mary’s basket.

The sun sank low as purple and orange ribbons of color
streaked the horizon. Beyond the Reflecting Pool and the long expanse of lawn
dividing the various museums, the Washington Monument rose proudly in the sky,
its single red eye blinking like a beacon. A crowd of Capitol Hill staffers in
khaki shorts strode by, mixing in with family groups representing different
nationalities and kids waving miniature American flags. A light wind picked up
as twilight fell. Ventura pulled a sweater from her bag and slipped it on.

“How’s your wine doing?” Charles asked, motioning to her
paper cup. “Care for some more?”

“Just a bit,” she said with a smile. A group of Indian women
in saris strolled by, the colorful fabric fluttering in the breeze. As the last
swath of cloth sailed by, Ventura caught her breath. It was Richard, sitting
not that far away with his two darling kids and a gorgeous, dark-haired woman.
The adults sat on portable lawn chairs, smiling happily as the twins played on
a blanket by their feet. Richard raised his cup to take a sip, his gaze locking
on Ventura’s.

“Have either of you seen the fireworks here before?” Jason
asked the girls.

“Only on TV,” Mary answered.

“Then you’re in for a treat.” He followed Ventura’s gaze
across the lawn. “Well, what do you know? There’s Richard.”

Ventura bit her bottom lip. “Yes.”

Charles looked at her pleasantly. “Do you want to go over
and say hi?”

Ventura returned her attention to her date. “Not just yet.”

The National Anthem began to play, and everyone rose to
their
feet. After the dramatic ending, the sky behind the
Monument suddenly exploded in color, accompanied by huge booms and spiraling
squeals. “It’s gorgeous,” Ventura said in awe.

Charles took her hand. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

Jason stood with his arm around Mary, holding her close.
“Anybody up for champagne?” Mary asked.

Ventura stole a glance in Richard’s direction but couldn’t
spy him through the crowd. “Champagne sounds great,” she said.

Mary took the chilled bottle from its carrying case, dried
it off with a towel,
then
unscrewed the wire holders
that bound the cork. She struggled to work it free with all her might, but it
wouldn’t budge.

“Here, let me,” Ventura offered, flashing the boys a grin.
Who wanted to be the weak woman asking guys to open the bubbly? She was strong
enough to do it herself.

She laid the towel over the cork and gave it a sharp tug.
Pop!
Whoosh!
The cork rocketed out and hit Ventura smack in the forehead. “Ow!”

“Oh
my gosh
, Ventura,” Charles
said, leaning over her. “Are you all right?”

She slowly raised her hand to her forehead,
then
winced at the pain. A huge knot was forming already.

“Let me get you some ice,” Charles offered.

“No, I’ll get it,” she said, handing him the bottle and
standing. “The rest of you go on and get started.”

Ventura walked back from the drink vendor, clutching a bag
of ice to her brow as lines snaked from the refreshment stands.

“Look, Dad!” Ricky called. “It’s Ventura.”

Richard turned from where they stood in line, his face
registering concern. “Ventura? What happened?”

“It was just a little thing with a runaway cork.”

She lifted the ice pack, revealing her welt.

“Does it hurt too badly?”

“I’ll be all right.”

“I thought I saw you sitting over there with your boyfriend
but wasn’t sure.”

“Charles?”

“Isn’t he the one who picked you up at the house? The one
who took you boating?”

“Yes.”

He studied her a moment before speaking. “I guess it’s good
we ran into each other this way. I’ve been trying to catch you all week.”

“You have?” she asked with surprise.

“But between meetings and your running the kids’ schedules,
we always seemed to miss each other.”

Ventura swallowed
hard,
fearing
some sort of bad news was coming.

“I wanted you to know I’m taking some time away.” Ventura
glanced at Ricky, whose face hung long.

“Away?” she asked, not understanding.

“I thought it would be good…” He met her gaze. “For the
best, I mean, if I took some time to get reacquainted with Gloria.”

“Gloria,” Ventura said, thinking of the pretty brunette.

“Daddy always goes away with Gloria,” Ricky said with a
pout. “He never takes us.”

Richard thumbed his nose. “Now you know that’s not true.
You’re just not coming this time, all right?”

“How long will you be gone?” Ventura asked.

“A week. Maybe two.”

“I see.”

“Jason will help keep everything under control.”

“When are you leaving?”

He held her gaze a prolonged beat.

“In the morning.”

Ventura returned to the picnic blanket, where the other
three toasted to the country’s birthday with paper cups. Mary shot her a
worried glance. “Are you okay?”

Ventura sat and put down the ice pack. “I’ll live.”

Charles warmly patted her shoulder.

“It’s too bad that happened,” Jason said kindly. “But it
will heal up.”

“I ran into Richard.” Ventura met Jason’s eyes. “He said
he’s going away tomorrow.”

“You mean you didn’t know until now?” Jason asked with
alarm. “I thought for sure Richard had…” He twisted his lips in thought.
“That’s weird.”

“Who’ll look after the kids?” Charles asked.

“I’ll stay with them at night,” Jason said. “And Ventura
will still be there in the daytime.”

Mary shot Ventura a pointed look, and she returned it.