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Authors: Carly Phillips

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BOOK: Lucky Charm
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“Say hi for me.”

“I will.”

Gabrielle clasped her hands behind her back and grinned.

At that moment, he realized she'd played him. She'd deliberately seduced his senses, reminding him of their potent chemistry, all so he would be too consumed by her to worry about why they couldn't be together.

He met her gaze. “I'm on to you, you know.”

“Moi?”
She raised an eyebrow in fake innocence. “I don't know what you're talking about.” But the smile pulling at her lips told him she was lying.

“Good night, Gabby,” he said softly.

“'Night, Derek.” She walked him to the door.

“Lock up behind me,” he instructed.

She nodded. “I will.”

He meant to reach for the door. He reached for her instead. Next thing he knew, she was in his arms, melting backward as he caught her in a hot, searing kiss. His tongue tangled with hers and a low, sexy sigh escaped from the back of her throat, driving him crazy.

It took everything he had to step away, keeping his hand on her back as she caught her balance.

“Sleep tight,” he said. Then he walked out before he picked her up and carried her to bed.

He'd wanted to one-up her in her sensual game. A light, teasing moment to prove to both of them that he was in charge, that he might want her but he could still walk away.

Instead he'd learned a hard lesson. She was definitely the one with the upper hand.

 

G
ABRIELLE WOKE UP EARLY
. She'd called Sharon the night before and asked if she wanted to take a ride into Boston for the day. Gabrielle needed to pick up clothes from her apartment. Despite the threats, she had decided to stick around her hometown for a little while longer.

Derek Corwin, watch out, Gabrielle thought wryly. But he wasn't her only mission. Talking to people about the Corwin Curse was.

Gabrielle stopped at the Dunkin' Donuts in town, a new addition to Main Street, and headed for Sharon's parents' place. She pulled up front just as her friend was putting letters in the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

Sharon waved. She pulled out a stack of mail, placed her envelopes inside, flipped the door closed and the flag up, before joining Gabrielle inside her car.

“Good morning,” Sharon said, her mood upbeat.

“'Morning. Coffee?” Gabrielle asked, pointing to the cup in the passenger-seat holder.

“Love some. Thanks.”

“It has milk and sugar, the way you like it.”

Sharon took a sip. “Hot and good. Thanks!”

“No problem.” Gabrielle pulled onto the street and they began the hour's drive.

“How are you doing?” Sharon asked. “Still upset over last night?”

Gabrielle brushed her hair out of her eyes, but the wind from the open convertible blew it right back. “I'm okay. Derek's father has always been crotchety. I didn't take it personally.”

“You're a better person than me. I think I'd be devastated if Richard's family spoke to me that way.”

Gabrielle nodded. “I'd probably be hurt if I didn't know how badly that curse affects the whole family.” It was something she wanted to explore in more detail, for her book and for herself. “Know what I mean?”

“Hmm,” Sharon said, sounding distracted.

Gabrielle glanced out of the corner of her eye.

Sharon was opening a large manila envelope.

“What's that?” Gabrielle asked.

“I'm not sure. There was no return address.” Sharon pulled out a photograph with a note clipped to it. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“I'm going to be sick.” Sharon laid her head against the window and shut her eyes.

Worried, Gabrielle pulled over, into the nearest side street. They were still fairly close to home. She parked the car and turned to her friend. “What's going on?” She reached for the pictures, but Sharon smacked her hand on top of Gabrielle's. “Don't,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“Then you tell me. What's got you so upset?”

Sharon met Gabrielle's gaze. “Remember Tony DeCarlo?”

“Your ex-boyfriend from college,” Gabrielle said carefully, not wanting to stir up too many bad memories.

“Oh, please, just call it what it was. My big mistake. While I was blindly in love with him, he was in it for blackmail.”

Gabrielle remembered. Tony had put something in Sharon's drink, drugged her then taken sexually explicit photographs that he'd threatened to turn over to the dean of the college and any magazine who'd take them unless she came up with one thousand dollars.

He'd hit up the wrong girl.

Sharon, though mortified, had gone to her father, who was an attorney. He'd hired a private investigator. It turned out that Tony DeCarlo had a history of being the perfect boyfriend until he'd drugged, photographed then blackmailed other women. Sharon hadn't been his first. She had, however, been the only one to press charges, putting Tony behind bars.

“I thought it was over. I thought all the photographs had been confiscated by the police.” Her voice shook as hard as her hands as she lifted a grainy copy of a photograph. “The police obviously didn't find them all,” she whispered. “Someone got hold of one and is threatening to turn it over to the newspaper unless I pay.”

“Is it from Tony?” Gabrielle asked.

“There's no signature, but who else would have the old photos?”

“That son of a bitch,” Gabrielle said, her temper rising. “He obviously didn't learn from his time in jail. He's still underestimating you. Do you want to drive straight to the police station?” Gabrielle relished the idea of turning this guy in.

Sharon shook her head. “Are you nuts? Do you know what these pictures would do to Richard's campaign?” She shivered at the prospect. “We live in a conservative small town. The only reason there wasn't a huge scandal all those years ago was because Tony pled to a lesser charge for reduced time in jail!”

“He'll get thrown right back in for resorting to extortion again.” Gabrielle had been so proud of her friend for having the guts to tell her parents what had happened and for following through with pressing charges.

But Tony had taken that confident part of Sharon's personality with him when he'd been carted off to jail. The incident had changed Sharon from being a bubbly, outgoing person to little more than a shell of her former self. Gabrielle had talked her friend through many difficult, sleepless nights. Only lately, with the patience and love of Richard Stern, had the old Sharon begun to reemerge. It had showed up tonight when she'd defended Gabrielle at the library. Gabrielle shuddered to think what this would do to her friend's self-esteem.

She wouldn't let Sharon backpedal. “You can press charges again,” she said, urging her friend to do the right thing.

“It's different now. I don't have just me to think about. I have Richard.”

“Exactly, and he loves you for who you are.”

Richard had grown up in Perkins, rivals to Stewart in football, basketball and other sports. Gabrielle and Sharon had seen Richard around a lot, considering he was Perkins's star basketball player. And they'd made sure he had seen them. So Richard knew the woman Sharon had been. And he seemed to love everything about her.

When Sharon remained silent, Gabrielle continued. “It's not like you haven't confided in Richard about what Tony did. He'll support you.”

“He knows about my past, but he's also very traditional. He doesn't blame me, but he's never been interested in the sordid details.” Sharon shivered as she spoke.

Gabrielle considered herself a decent judge of character, and Richard seemed like one of the good guys. “I'm sure he just doesn't want to put you through the pain of reliving it,” Gabrielle assured her friend.

“Or maybe the thought of it just disgusts him.” Sharon ran her hands up and down her arms. “So far we've been lucky that nobody's dug up that old dirt on me. But if these photos get out, his political dreams will be ruined and I'll be to blame.”

“Honey…”

Sharon's eyes filled with tears. “As much as it goes against what I believe in, I'll just have to pay whoever it is to keep this quiet.”

“No!” Gabrielle slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “You can't give in to blackmail.”

“Unless you have a solution that doesn't involve this photo and God knows how many more becoming public, I have no choice.” Sharon smoothed out the paper with the note. “It says here that I should go to the Wave, a nightclub in Stewart, tomorrow night at eight. I'm to bring the money with me.”

“How much does he want?”

“Five thousand dollars.” She swallowed hard. “If it's Tony, he's raised his price.”

Gabrielle narrowed her gaze. “That doesn't seem like all that much money these days, even with inflation,” she said, trying for levity.

It worked. Sharon smiled. “I know, but that's his MO. Last time Tony only asked for a thousand. He'd planned on stringing it out, asking for more each time. I'm sure he's got the same plan now. He'll keep me on edge by making me wonder if and when those photos will show up in the next day's paper.” Her face had grown pale at the notion.

Something wasn't sitting right in Gabrielle's mind, but she couldn't put her finger on what was bothering her. “When did Tony get out of prison?”

Sharon shrugged. “I don't know that he did, but it has to be him, right? Nobody else would have the pictures but him.”

“I don't know.” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “It seems odd that your old pictures would resurface around the same time I'm not so politely being asked to leave town,” Gabrielle mused.

“You think the two things are related?” Sharon shifted in her seat, curling her knee beneath her so she faced Gabrielle.

“Yes. No. I don't know. It's just weird to have two separate threats against each of us going on at the same time.” She paused. “What if Tony sold the pictures to someone?”

“Anything's possible.”

“This stinks. Even if you pay, you can never be certain that you have all the pictures. This could drag on forever.” Gabrielle turned and stared out the window, trying to come up with some way to help her friend.

They needed to track down Tony, but Gabrielle didn't think her friend was up for that conversation just yet. Maybe after the shock wore off. In the meantime, she'd do some digging herself. Research was what she was good at, after all.

“Do you have the money?” Gabrielle asked.

“For this payment and maybe one more. I obviously can't afford to keep this up indefinitely. I just wish I hadn't been so stupid.”

“Hey!” Gabrielle whipped around in her seat. “Do not blame yourself. You were drugged. It's not like you were a willing participant,” she reminded Sharon.

With that, Gabrielle realized what had been bothering her. “You were a victim. Surely nobody will hold that against you or Richard. I say you call his bluff. Refuse to pay and ride out the scandal. Richard loves you. He'll stand by you and so will I.” Gabrielle reached out and squeezed her friend's hand. “It's the least I can do for the woman who went toe to toe with Hank Corwin for me.”

Sharon glanced out the window. “I think you're forgetting who Richard's opponent is. Mary Perkins won't hesitate to use this as ammunition to hurt Richard and convince people to vote for her.”

Mary Perkins and that damned curse she wielded like a magic wand with the power to bend people to her will. Gabrielle decided the incumbent mayor would be high on her list of people to interview, if for no other reason than to dig into the psyche of someone willing to use other people's weaknesses against them.

“At least tell Richard what's going on so he won't be caught off guard if this leaks,” Gabrielle suggested.

“No.” Sharon swung back around. “Not yet. I need to go to the Wave tomorrow night and see what and whom I'm dealing with first.” Sharon's voice shook at the idea, but with her decision made, she drew her shoulders up straighter.


Merde.
You are stubborn.” Like Gabrielle herself, once Sharon set her mind on a course of action, like pressing charges against Tony years ago, nothing would deter her. At least some of her spunk remained, despite the fear.

Gabrielle cleared her throat. “Fine. If you insist on going to the Wave tomorrow with five thousand dollars, you aren't going alone. But we still need to go to Boston today because I don't have any clubbing clothes with me here.” Gabrielle restarted the car.

Sharon blew out a relieved breath of air. “Thank you. You're the best. Now, just promise me you won't tell Richard about any of this.”

Gabrielle frowned. She wasn't a fan of keeping secrets, but it wasn't her choice. “I won't tell him if you insist, but—”

BOOK: Lucky Charm
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