The Night She Got Lucky Read Free Page A

Evening had fallen. The breeze was cooler. The last moments of sunlight had cast a pale orange glow on the vineyards and gardens. Ginger stepped to the railing and inhaled the richly scented air. That's when she saw him.
    Lucio stood quietly on the lawn near the stone wall, in profile, again with one hand in his pocket. He didn't move, but Ginger could tell by the set of his shoulders and the slope of his neck that he carried a burden. He looked worriedworried that she'd press charges, no doubt. Ginger decided to put the man out of his misery. She'd go down there and talk to him.

CHAPTER 2
    Lucio had strolled across the lawn to the spot under the live oaks where, just hours ago, his friend Rick Rousseau had taken his wedding vows with a sweet and funny newspaper obituary writer named Josie Sheehan. It was a turn of events Lucio would never have predicted for his old running buddy, but, as he well knew, few things in life go the way we envision. His current situation was proof of that.
    Lucio took a seat on the thick stone wall dividing the lawn from the gardens, then situated himself so that he faced west. The light here reminded him of home, the magical hills between Spain's highest mountains and the Mediterranean, with its fig trees and flowers, lemons and pomegranates, all that decadent bounty. He'd been gone nearly twenty years and had long ago acquired U.S. citizenship, but that sunny valley by the sea was the only true home he'd ever known, and would likely remain so. He'd used San Francisco as his base of operations for many years, but he was here so rarely it no longer even made sense to keep an apartment.
    Lucio raised one knee and propped an arm on it, smiling to himself. Yes, Ginger Garrison was a beautiful woman, and it had been a real pleasure to have her in his arms and under his lips. But a woman was the last thing he should be concerned about. He'd come to San Francisco on the most serious of errandswinning back his reputation and rebuilding his careerand a woman could not possibly aid him in either pursuit. Wasn't his weakness for women at least partially to blame for his present circumstances?
    Lucio shook his head.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen
.
    He'd already been in town three months, sleeping on a friend's couch or in his agent's guest room until Rick blew him away with kindness and offered Lucio the use of his house in town while he and Josie were on their honeymoon. Then, just before the wedding earlier that day, Rick had told Lucio that the house was his for as long as he needed it, because the couple had decided to make the wine-country ranch their full-time home. Lucio had been speechless.
    Someday I will repay you for your generosity, he'd told Rick.
    His longtime friend put his arm around his shoulder and said there was no need. You were there for me when I needed you, Lucky. This is what friends do for each other.
    Lucio recalled how touched he was by Rick's offer, and chuckled softly to himself. They were no longer the wild boys they once were, cutting a swath through the continents in pursuit of adventure and pleasureand, for Lucio at least, an occasional paycheck. They had both made many mistakes in those years and the ones that followed. They had learned some hard lessons. And they had both come to appreciate the true value of friendship.
    As it turned out, Rick's Pacific Heights home was luxurious and convenient to everything Lucio needed. His agent lived only four blocks east in the same exclusive San Francisco neighborhood, much to the man's chagrin.
    I will do everything in my power for you, as always, Sydney Frankel told him the last time they'd talked. But I am only human.
    And the house was just a short trolley ride away from Lucio's friend and fellow photographer Piers Skaarsgard, who'd lent him his couch for weeks on end. It had been especially generous of Piers considering the fact that Piers's wife had died of leukemia just months before.
    It's good to have another beating heart