My Lucky Groom

drift off to sleep. “Thanks for bringing me here. For letting me know about this apartment.”
    “I did it for selfish reasons,” Mary answered groggily.
    “That may be, but you didn’t have to take me to the party.”
    “Shut up and go to sleep.”
    “Okay.”
    A few seconds later, she heard Mary’s voice. “I’m glad you had fun. You looked like a million bucks.”
    “Thanks to you.”
    “Yeah, maybe.”
    “Do you think I’ll ever see him again?”
    “Who?”
    “Richard.”
    “Of course you will. Just pick up a paper. He’s in it all the time.”
    She hurled her pillow at Mary with a laugh. “I meant, in person!”
    Mary rolled over and clutched it. “My, my. Two days in town and look who’s already got a crush.”
    “I do not,” Ventura said, feeling her cheeks warm.
    “That’s okay. I’ll keep your little secret.” Mary tossed the pillow back at her. “Let’s get some shut-eye. I’ve got work in the morning, and tomorrow you’re cold-calling.”
    “Right.” Ventura snatched back her pillow and pulled it over her head as floorboards moaned above. What an exhausting couple of days she’d had. Once she finally nodded off, she’d no doubt sleep like the dead.

Chapter Three

    Richard’s personal assistant, Jason, burst through his home office door. As managing editor of his own magazine, Richard had been able to work out a flexible schedule where he telecommuted part of the time from his stylish townhouse in Old Town Alexandria. This helped a great deal when it came to raising the twins. None of the nannies he’d hired to date had been able to function without the highest level of oversight. Jason’s face was pink from the neck up as he clutched his tablet to his teal polo shirt. “I’ve got to talk to you about Helena.”
    Helena was the latest in a string of caretakers he’d hired to look after Ricky and Elisa. “What’s going on?”
    “I’m afraid we’ve had another auto disaster.”
    Richard spun his chair toward the window framing the street. His new BMW sat there with a bashed-in front hood and sagging bumper. “Not again.”
    “And the worst part is, she’s blaming the—”
    “I quit!” Helena said, barreling through the door with her hand-scrawled letter of resignation. She pressed it to Richard’s desk and met his gaze with a hostile glare. “Find someone else to look after your little monsters.”
    Richard bristled and sat up straighter. “Watch yourself.”
    Jason blinked at Helena, then shared a placating smile. “You do want a positive recommendation?”
    “Recommendation? Ha!” She huffed and glanced briefly at them both. “Are you kidding? This has been the job from Hades. I’m not even listing it on my résumé.” She strode out the door with a cry that made her sound like a wild banshee. They heard a jingle of metal as she grabbed her purse and keys from the hall table; then the front door slammed shut.
    Richard sat back in his chair and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and met Jason’s gaze with weary eyes. “What do we do now?”
    Jason sat in a chair opposite Richard’s desk and began furiously tapping at his tablet. After a few beats, he looked up, fully composed. This was why Richard relied on him. Jason always kept his cool, even under the most dire circumstances. “Advertise.”

    Ventura woke with a jolt as her pillow was yanked out from under her. “Wake up, sleepyhead! You finally have an interview!”
    Ventura squinted up at Mary, who was dressed in a cream-colored skirt and kiwi silk blouse with dangling matching earrings. Ventura hadn’t dreamed it. Fashionista Mary had nabbed Ventura’s dream job and was working at the Daily Globe . She started today. Ventura sat up.
    “What time is it?”
    “Nearly eight o’clock; I have to get going. So do you. Isn’t your appointment at nine?”
    “And all the way across town,” Ventura wailed. “How could you let me hit snooze?”
    Mary set a hand on her hip. “Who I am? Your mother? Besides…” She puckered her lips and put on a dab of Perfectly Plum lipstick. “I was getting ready.” She did a little pirouette in her light-colored skirt and matching heels. “What do you think?”
    “Like you look too nice to be serving coffee.”
    “I’ll work my way up. You’ll see.”
    Ventura was sure that she would. Mary was pretty and bright and incredibly determined. She’d never even known she’d wanted to work in journalism until she’d considered the fashion