Fortune's Heirs: Reunion. Marie Ferrarella
ago she’d felt so confident that this was the one handsome man she was completely immune to.
Pride goeth before a fall.
Chapter Five
“Earth to Gloria.”
Gloria blinked as her sister’s voice penetrated the fog that had descended over her brain. She realized that Christina was waving a hand in front of her eyes, obviously waiting for a reaction.
She cleared her throat, if not her head. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”
Christina shook her head. “I could have quoted the entire Gettysburg Address and I don’t think you would have heard a single word just now. Where were you?” She glanced in the direction that Christina had been staring but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just the Fortunes at their table. “You look flushed, Glory. Are you coming down with something?”
“God, I hope not,” Gloria responded with feeling. Reaching for her ginger ale, she drank the contents until her glass was empty.
Christina took a second look over her shoulder, this time seeing that her sister’s line of vision directly took in Jack Fortune. But she doubted if Gloria’s sudden trancelike state had anything to do with the man, not after the way she’d just talked about him.
Still…
Maybe she should be scouting out maid’s outfits for Gloria, Christina mused, suppressing a grin. It would be nice to have her apartment given a thorough cleaning and if there was one thing she’d learned, whatever Gloria did, she did thoroughly.
“You sure you’re all right?” she pressed.
Gloria nodded a tad too vigorously. “I’m just preoccupied about the move back home.”
That, she could accept. “You’re entitled. I was a little up in the air when I moved back, too.” The waiter returned with their orders and she paused until he retreated again. “It’s not exactly a tiny step, rerouting your entire life.”
Gloria’s lips curved slightly. No, it wasn’t, but she wasn’t exactly a novice at it, either. “I should be used to that by now. I’ve done it—what? Four times if you count that disaster of a marriage I had.”
“Let’s not.” Christina was more than happy to pretend it had never happened. From what she’d heard, Gary wasn’t worthy of Gloria. “Did you check out that sublet I told you about?”
Shifting so that she couldn’t see Jack without an effort, she focused her attention on her sister. And on her new apartment.
“Yes, and I can’t thank you enough for that tip. We came to an agreement almost immediately. The place is mine as of yesterday.” She’d already spent her first night there and, unlike other first nights in new places she’d lived in, she’d had no trouble sleeping.
Christina looked delighted at the news. “It’ll feel more like home once your furniture gets here.”
Gloria laughed shortly. “Not all that much furniture to make the trip.” She’d packed up what few things she could still lay claim to and given a storage unit in Red Rock as a receiving address. She’d spent part of yesterday getting in touch with the moving company that had then had to get in touch with the movers who were en route to Texas to tell them to change their final destination.
Christina tried to make light of it. “You always did insist on not having much baggage.”
“At least physically,” Gloria specified. Mentally was another story, but she was working on it. She was working on it, she repeated silently as if thinking it twice would somehow reinforce the effort and the final result.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I certainly have room for dessert.”
“I second that motion.” Gloria deliberately forced a happy note into her voice, vainly trying to block out the fact that Jack Fortune was still looking at her and for some reason, that was creating goose bumps along her flesh. She could almost feel his eyes skimming along her body.
Up to this point, she’d thought her imagination was exclusively reserved for the jewelry she designed. She didn’t particularly like this turn of events.
Padding around in bare feet, her soles meeting the highly polished wooden floor, Gloria patrolled the large loft as she got ready the next morning. Jack would be by in a few minutes to pick her up to take her to where her jewelry store was going to be. She couldn’t help wondering if the contrary man would take exception to the location. Well, he could take exception all he wanted, she’d already signed the one-year lease.
Nerves had taken an eggbeater to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it had to do with the fact that she was fully immersed in her venture or that she was attracted to Jack Fortune.
“I’m not attracted to him, I’m not,” she protested to the window in absence of anything live to talk to. “It’s just a matter of deprivation, that’s all.”
It wasn’t just alcohol that hadn’t touched her lips in two years. She hadn’t been with a man for that length of time, either.
She glanced at her reflection in the shell-framed mirror that hung just shy of the front door. She was wearing her hair down today. Was that a mistake? Did it detract from her professionalism?
“You avoid things that are bad for you, right?” she asked her reflection. The woman in the mirror nodded in agreement.
She’d decided long before making that pact with her sisters that men were definitely bad for her. At least, the kind of men she seemed doomed to keep selecting. Handsome men with gorgeous eyes and no substance, and ultimately, no heart.
When she’d first met Gary, she’d thought that he was going to be different. He’d given off such a solid, protective air those first few weeks. Granted she’d never been head over heels in love with him, but then, she’d told herself that kind of feeling belonged to the very young and the very delusional. She’d figured that Gary would be good for her and that for the rest of her life she’d be content if not wildly happy.
She’d been neither.
It wasn’t long before she’d discovered that Gary’s solid exterior and protective veneer were only that, a veneer. Beneath it the man she’d thought would be loving had turned out to be controlling instead. And, since she’d been easier to handle while under the influence, her wolf in prince’s clothing had done everything he could to encourage all her self-destructive habits.
She combed her fingers through her hair, adding a little height. The reflection in the mirror was frowning at her. Her marriage and subsequent divorce made umpteen strikes against her. That was when she’d decided that if her judgment was so bad, she just wasn’t going to exercise it any longer. At least not where men were concerned. So she’d put a cork in the wine bottle and a lid on her feelings.
So far, it had proved to be a good decision. Once sober, she got a great deal more accomplished. And with her mind uncluttered by the baggage that being involved with someone created, she’d managed to turn an interest and a skill into a satisfying, successful career.
So here she was, back on what was practically her home turf, facing another challenge. She thought of Jack. As much as she hated to admit it, her longing for a relationship far outweighed her desire for a drink two to one.
She supposed that was only human, longing for something you couldn’t have.
“Focus on how much of an ass he is, Glory,” she ordered herself. Hunting for her shoes, she found them by the kitchen bar. She put one on. “Besides, he’s cold as ice. The woman who tries to make it with him had better be wearing thermal underwear.”
The idea made her laugh.
Just then the doorbell rang. Startled, she grabbed hold of the counter to keep from falling over as she tried to put on the other shoe.
“Coming,”