My Lucky Groom by Ginny Baird Page A

Ventura asked in shock.
    “Well, yeah. Okay. I kind of see your point.”
    Ventura felt a tap on her shoulder and turned with a start to see — oh no, not today — Charles! He flashed each of them a pleasant grin. “I thought I saw you girls talking up here.”
    “Hey! No butting in line!” an angry woman called.
    Charles nodded deferentially. “Just passing through,” he told the woman, who watched him with an eagle eye just the same.
    Charles met Ventura’s gaze. “I’ve been thinking about you. Thinking of calling.”
    She self-consciously fingered her hair, her nail catching on a dried piece of toilet paper. “Really?”
    “Our first date ended so badly.”
    “Through no fault of yours,” she added hastily.
    “Accidents happen.” He tilted his head to the side. “Did you change your hair?”
    “Order up!” the cook called from the front.
    The woman behind them loudly cleared her throat.
    “Five more seconds,” Charles told her, before turning his attention back to Ventura. “In any case, I was thinking we might try it again. This time, away from the water?”
    Ventura laughed lightly, thinking what a good guy he was. What harm would it be? One little date? Ventura didn’t have many friends in Washington. It never hurt to make more. “I’d like that.”
    Charles shot her a big, bold grin. “That’s great. Just great! I’ll call you.” Then he strode to the back of the line before the disgruntled older woman could shoot daggers in his back with her eyes.

Chapter Six

    The next morning, Mary opened the door to Nanette’s townhouse to find an incredibly dapper guy standing outside. His pale pink button-down was pressed, light starch, and his navy slacks were pleated to a tee. Even his boat shoes looked brand-new.
    “Um… I’m here for Ventura?”
    Mary met bright blue eyes, and her heart beat faster. Who was this fashion god, and why hadn’t he come calling sooner? Hang on! For Ventura? For a gal in constant need of a makeover, she certainly seemed to be having all the luck.
    “I’m Jason,” he said, extending a hand. “Richard’s personal assistant.” Of course he was. How else would one explain Richard’s impeccable wardrobe and the high-class way he dressed his children? He had a built-in fashion consultant.
    “Coming, Jason!” Ventura called, nearly stumbling up the basement stairs. She dropped her purse to the floor and a roll of mints spilled out, spiraling toward Jason’s shoe. He bent low to pick it up, and Mary gasped with delight. That was no fifteen-dollar haircut, she thought, studying the perfectly tapered lines of his short blond hair. This was high couture!
    Mary’s face pinched as she wiggled her nose at an itch.
    It was only then that she remembered she wore her damp hair in a towel turban-style and that she had a Salt of the Earth mud mask drying on her face! Jason stepped aside and Ventura scurried out the door, then met Mary’s gaze with a smile. “Nice meeting you…?” She blinked twice, hoping this was all some horrid dream and that it would poof away. But it didn’t. He just stood there, waiting for her to give him her name.
    “Mary,” she filled in with a squeak.

    A few seconds later, Ventura sat behind the wheel of the huge SUV. When Richard said she’d be driving the Lexus, she’d envisioned a sedan, not something this enormous.
    Jason glanced back toward the house. “Mary seems nice.”
    “She’s a great roommate,” Ventura assured him. “She’s probably really embarrassed you saw her that way.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “You don’t know, Mary. She’s always gorgeously dressed. Perfectly put together from head to toe.”
    Jason raised his brow, intrigued. “Really?”
    Ventura fumbled with the keys in the ignition.
    “Just go ahead and get it started. We’re going to run a few practice rounds before heading back to the ranch.”
    “Practice rounds?”
    “Richard thought it would be good for you to get the feel of the SUV before