Page 1 of Just My Luck

ONE

SLOANE

Gettingunder my boss’s skin is the second-greatest highlight of my day.

Waking up safely with my twins is the first, of course, but there was just something about knowing I was going to annoy the hell out of Abel King that added a little hitch in my giddyup every morning.

Case in point: I planned to use me running late as the perfect excuse to poke the bear.

“Ben! Tillie! Three minutes!” I called down the hallway of the small, run-down cabin on my granddad’s property, rushing to shove lunches into backpacks.

“Don’t you raise your voice at those kids, Sloaney.” Granddad sat in a recliner that leaned too far to the right and looked dangerously close to collapse. I softened and walked to him, pressing a brief kiss onto the top of his wispy, white-haired head.

“If I recall correctly, you were always quick with an order, and if I didn’t hop to it fast enough, a swat wasn’t far behind.” I crossed my arms and lifted an eyebrow at my granddad.

His bushy brows furrowed as he swatted the air between us. “Ah, what do you know?”

My laugh was bright and quick. Time had softened my grandfather, and we both knew it. My eyes raked over his pajama pants and the rickety TV tray next to him.

It had been over a year since the historic farmhouse Granddad had lived in his entire life burned down while we were sleeping inside. Even so, we’d been struggling to get back on our feet as a family. Both Ben and Tillie had been having issues, and instead of life moving on, I was watching the strongest man I ever knew spend his days rotting in a broken recliner. After the fire we moved into the one-bedroom cabin, and instead of taking the bed, Granddad insisted that he sleep on the recliner.

He had offered us a place to stay after my divorce from Jared, and I brought danger right to his doorstep. My ex and I were kids when we met—some would call us high school sweethearts, but our relationship was tumultuous from the start. If we weren’t running around the San Fernando Valley on our parents’ dime, we were breaking up for the sole purpose of getting back together. His family had made their money in the entertainment business, while my father made his millions as a financial adviser to the world’s wealthiest. When Dad died, it was clear there was no love lost between me and his fourth wife. Other than what Dad had set aside for me, I was cut off. When I got pregnant at twenty-two, Jared’s family insisted on a marriage, and for a while we tried to make it work.

I fought the familiar well of tears and shoved down my unspoken regrets to focus on the one man who’d always been there for me.

“Maybe you should head downtown and see what some of the other old geezers are up to.” I opted for a hopeful smile.

“What do I want to hang around with a bunch of old men for?” Granddad’s grumble would have been endearing if it wasn’t quite so sad.

Resigned, I turned back to the hallway to try to get the kids moving again. “Chickens! Let’s move!”

Tillie was the first to appear in the hallway, coming from the bathroom. Because of the tiny nature of the cabin, the kids and I shared a room, and if we wanted any privacy, we had to change clothes in the tiny bathroom.

Just be thankful you have running water.

I closed my eyes and tried to feel gratitude. Things could have been so much worse, but mornings like these were draining. It was hard to feel like we’d ever get our lives back on track.

After the fire was ruled arson, any progress on rebuilding the farmhouse had come to a screeching halt while both legal and criminal investigations were conducted. In the meantime, we were forced to sit and wait.

“Mama, can you put a bow in my hair?” Tillie was holding up an oversize sequined purple bow. My daughter was still discovering her own personal style—some days she wore baggy overalls and high-tops, others were frilly dresses and hair bows. Her lightly freckled cheeks and thick brown hair reminded me of a tiny version of myself. The only difference was that when I was seven, it was my au pair who’d taken the time to put pretty bows in my hair.

“Of course, baby. Turn around.” Tillie smiled and gave me her back while I secured the bow in her half-up hairstyle. I smoothed the straight strands down her back. “Have you seen your brother?”

“He was dancing naked. Again. So I got dressed in the bathroom.” Tillie was unimpressed with her twin brother’s fascination with thoroughly grossing her out.

I laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll get him. Please finish getting your bag together.”

Down the hallway, I stopped in front of the room I shared with the kids. I knocked twice but turned the handle to open the door. There was a mattress tucked into the corner and a makeshift bed on the floor. The queen-size bed wasn’t quite big enough for the three of us, so I’d made a pallet of blankets and pillows to sleep on to keep the kids from having to sleep on the floor.

My heart hurt just looking into the room.

I tried to push past the shame and infuse my voice with sunshine. “Ready to go, bud?”

Ben turned and his eyes went wide as he took me in. “Mom.” His groan had me stifling a laugh. “You cannot drop us off at school wearing that.”

I looked down in mock surprise, feeling a zip of accomplishment at my chosen attire. Seeing Abel nearly pop a blood vessel when I showed up for work in sponge curlers and a bathrobe would be enough enjoyment to carry me through the weekend. Not only did fucking with him make me giggle, but I was convinced it was something he needed too. It seemed like everyone in town was afraid of him, and the man needed to lighten up.

It became my mission to do that, and I took it very seriously. If my outfit was enough to get the attention of a seven-year-old, it was certainly enough to ruffle my grumpy boss’s feathers.

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