Lucky Break by Carly Phillips Page B

“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.
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    W HAT 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 termas 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.”
    Lauren nodded. “I agree. I wish I could say this was purely a social invitation, but I need to talk.”
    â€œAbout Jason.” Sharon’s eyes gleamed, but being Sharon, she didn’t mention the fact that she’d caught them—or that Lauren had run away.
    Lauren nodded.
    â€œAsk away,” Sharon said. “I kept you up-to-date on his big news because I figured you might hearabout the steroids in the papers or on television. But since you’d moved on, I never filled you in on the little things going on with him. I didn’t want to stir up old memories that you didn’t want stirred.”
    Lauren exhaled hard, then took another sip of wine. Sharon’s perceptiveness had enabled them to remain friends. The other woman had an innate sense of caring that Lauren appreciated and valued.
    â€œDid you ever hear how he tested positive?” Lauren asked. That question had nagged at her since the