Page 8 of Tempting Fate
“You ought to try it.” Logan punched Gabe in the chest. “A little responsibility would do you good.”
“Someday, but not anytime soon.” Gabe liked his life just the way it was. When he wasn’t working, he could take off to places unknown. Do a little sightseeing, a little clubbing, a little partying. After twelve years in the Navy, he liked his freedom just fine. “Who knows? Annie and I may decide to leave your ass.”
“Annie’s got good taste, Moretti. You’re the last dude she’d pick.”
He’d only known Annie since last summer and already loved her like a sister. The woman was salt of the earth.
They both lifted their heads when they heard a vehicle pull up, and Gabe peeked outside to see who it was. Raylene. She let the engine idle in the carport longer than necessary, and he got the sense she was psyching herself up to go in.
“I’ll go talk to her,” Logan said.
“Nah, it’s your party. I’ll take care of it.” Gabe handed the extra chairs to Logan and ambled over to Raylene’s truck.
“Where’d you go?” he asked as she stepped out of the cab.
“I had an errand.” She turned her back on him and started for the house. “I’ve got to get ready.”
“Okay. Just making sure everything’s okay.”
“Everything’s fine,” she said, but her hands were shaking.
Chapter 3
Raylene made a beeline for the bedroom she was using. She desperately wanted to wash off the day’s grime and suit up in her best armor—a little black dress—for judgment day. No matter what she wore, she’d get talked about. Might as well do it in style. She’d bought the dress in a small, exclusive shop on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica when her bank account was still full, and it had been languishing in her closet ever since. It was high time she took the dress out for a stroll.
She locked the door and took a few seconds to breathe and stop her hands from trembling. The meeting had been good. Just what she needed, yet the desire for a drink still nagged at her. A little voice kept telling her that one vodka tonic was all she needed to get through this thing and she could go cold turkey tomorrow.
Nope. She wasn’t going to ruin this for Logan and Annie, and alcohol made her do bad things. Or maybe she was just bad and the combination was noxious.
She sat on the edge of the bed and recited, “God, grant me the serenityto accept the things I cannot change,courage to change the things I can,and wisdom to know the difference,” hoping the words would give her strength.
All she had to do was make it through dinner. If she designated herself dishwasher or oven monitor, she could hole up in the kitchen and pass much of the evening without having to talk to anyone. That was her plan, anyway.
She took a quick shower, shimmied into her dress, and did her makeup, steering away from her usual dark, smoky-eyed look. Butch had told her that it made her look like a whore. Instead, she went with a neutral palette. It was big in LA. Kind of a natural, dewy face thing. Since she didn’t have a job, she’d spent a lot of time shopping, emulating the styles of the chic women in Los Angeles. It was amazing how fast someone could piss through a fortune. Between Butch—who’d robbed her blind—her divorce attorney’s fees, the lease on her beach house, breast implant removal surgery, and her patronage of Lucy’s House, a women’s shelter, she was down to nearly nothing.
In the new year, though, she planned to start her own company with the money she got from her land—and hopefully the gold. She wanted to raise and train cutting horses for competition and working cattle ranches. It was a lifelong dream. All she needed was the money, property, a barn, an equestrian center, and some good stock. The last part was easy. The Rossers had owned one of the largest cattle operations in California. She knew her horse flesh and every breeder west of the Mississippi. It was the right property that would be hard to come by, not just because real estate in California cost a fortune, but the land had to be zoned to allow a commercial horse farm, be accessible to buyers, and close enough to a town to buy supplies. Sort of a tall order in Southern California.
But she liked it there. The ocean, the beaches, the weather, and the fact that it was hundreds of miles away from Butch, Nugget, and her past.
On her way out, she took one last look in the mirror and saw a presentable woman staring back. It wasn’t as if it mattered. Her reputation was already so scarlet, nothing would change it.
At the bottom of the stairs, Gabe waited for her as if he’d been standing sentry there for the last forty minutes. Either that, or he’d put a tracker on her to know her comings and goings. She wouldn’t doubt it.
“What took you so long?” he asked, acting put out. But his eyes told a different story. Male appreciation gleamed there. Though Raylene had been appreciated more times than she wanted to admit, something about having Gabe look at her that way gave her courage.
“I told you, I had to change.”
“Well, the party has already started. You’re late.”
“Big deal. It’s not like I’m the main attraction,” she said, though she wasn’t so sure about that. People were probably tripping over themselves to watch her humiliation. “Is he here?”
“No, he’s not coming.”
She jerked in surprise. Annie was friends with Lucky’s wife, Tawny. And by Nugget standards the Rodriguezes were neighbors, even if they lived a few miles away. In the country, it was a cardinal sin not to invite your neighbor to an event like this. “It’s because of me.”
Gabe gazed down at his boots but didn’t deny it. She’d give him points for honesty.
“He’ll be at the wedding,” he said. “Now let’s go in. Annie has you seated next to her.”
