Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter) (10 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Raye

BOOK: Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter)
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“Look, Mr. Grant. You’re wrong. I’m not after Tyler’s money. Well, okay, maybe a little of his money, but I’m earning that.”
“Yeah, I just bet you are.”
“I am. Oh no. I don’t mean that kind of earning. I’m talking honest-to-goodness earn, as in work.”
“You think you can work yourself right into his wallet, reel him in like some bigmouth bass and he won’t resist ’cause you know just how to ring his bells. Is that it, girlie? You huntin’ my boy?”
“I’m not hunting anyone, especially your boy. I don’t know the first thing about reeling in men or ringing their bells, though I was hoping to remedy that when I got back to Houston.”
“Sure you was, and I’m performin’ brain surgery at noon today.” He tapped his cane on the ground. “You mark my words. You let my boy alone and use those feminine wiles of yours on some other man.”
Wiles? She smiled. She had wiles?
“I’m watchin’ you,” Ulysses warned. “You ain’t gettin’ your hands on my boy or his money. He’s stayin’ right here where he belongs.” He sat back in his chair. “Damn city slicker. A vamp, that’s what you are. Well, you ain’t vampin’ my boy. Not no, but hell no...”
Ulysses’s grumbling followed Lucky into the house and down the hallway.
A vamp
. She smiled wider. Vamp was good. Of course, sultry sexpot would have been better, but at least she’d moved up from flat-as-a-pancake Lucky.
She should have gone straight to her room the way Tyler had said. But the lure of the library and all those projector pieces distorted her rational thinking. All that machinery and nobody to put it back together.
Lucky went into the library and started sorting pieces. After fifteen minutes of careful scrutiny, she decided the thing was fixable. She begged a Phillips screwdriver, a flathead, and a wrench off of Mabel and went to work. Lucky was halfway into reconstructing the machine when a high-pitched scream shattered her concentration.
She bolted down the hall and followed Mabel and Bennie, who were already racing toward the living room. The three of them came to a staggering halt in the doorway, their gazes riveted on Helen, who sat in a mauve armchair, a cordless phone on her lap and a green lizard perched in her perfect silver coiffure.
“There’s a
thing
on my head!” she shrieked, waving her arms excitedly. “Get it off! Get it off!”
Bennie dashed into the room and snatched the lizard from her grandmother’s head.
“I—I was just sitting there on the phone and it just flew at me.” Her frantic gaze went to Bernadette. “Don’t panic, dear. Put it down slowly and Mabel can stomp it with her shoe—”
“Grandmother! That’s murder!” Bennie stared down at the lizard. “And as for you, I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“You...you...” Helen gasped and jumped to her feet, rubbing her arms as if a dozen creepy-crawlers swarmed over her. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps. “You—you know this... this
lizard?”
“Of course,” Bennie said and shock gripped Helen’s features. “And he didn’t fly at you. Marlon doesn’t fly, he crawls. He probably dropped from overhead.”
“Marlon?”
“Yeah, he’s my—”
“—nanny’s pet,” Lucky said, taking the lizard from Bennie. “Bad boy,” she scolded. “Didn’t Mommy Myers tell you to stay in your jar?”
Mommy Myers?
Okay, so she didn’t think fast on her feet. But hey, she was trying.
“So it’s your lizard.” A momentary flicker of relief passed Helen’s features as she realized Lucky was the happy owner and not her granddaughter. Then the relief gave way to outrage and more harsh gasps. “My Bernadette’s nanny is keeping a lizard!”
“Why, he’s been in the family for years,” Lucky exclaimed. “Used to belong to my granny, then my dad, and now me.” Great. She was the proud owner of a hand-me-down lizard. “Are you all right? Marlon didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“I think I’m...hyper...ventilating...need...to lie...down.” Helen staggered toward the hallway. “Mabel, please... if you have a...paper bag.”
“To put over your head?” Mabel beamed. “My pleasure, Helen. You just come with me.”
“Sorry Marlon surprised you,” Lucky called after Helen. “He just loves company.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Bennie said once she and Lucky were alone. “I owe you one.”
“Ugh.” Lucky handed the lizard over to Bennie. “How did he get out?”
“I sort of let him out.”
“Why?”
“I hate the thought of him being cooped up in the terrarium. He deserves freedom like everyone else.”
“Then let him loose in the backyard.”
“So Jed’s cat can have him? No way. Besides, Marlon’s one of my best friends. Isn’t that right, buddy?” Marlon blinked in answer and Bennie smiled. “Anyhow, I usually let him crawl around my room in the mornings. Marlon loves exercise.” The exercise-lover in question curled up in Bennie’s palm like a wet green noodle, his eyes closed.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Lucky said. “He’s a regular aerobics king.”
“Thanks again.” Bennie’s gaze dropped to the lizard. “Come on, Marlon. It’s back to the torture chamber for us. Too bad you’re not a math wizard instead of a lizard.”
Chuckling, Bennie disappeared down the hallway and Lucky went back to the library. She scooped up the half-assembled projector and the rest of the parts and toted them back to her room. She could finish the job later, once she’d retrieved her toolbox from the trunk of the Chevy.
But now...
No more mothers-in-law, or flying lizards, or cranky old men wielding canes. Lucky was going to do what she should have done right after breakfast—hide in her room.
 
TWO HOURS LATER, Lucky stifled a yawn and willed her eyes open to the page in front of her. So much for reading to kill time. The words blurred and she slammed the book shut. She needed some fresh air or she’d wind up sleeping the day away—the longest Sunday of her entire life—and she couldn’t, in good conscience, accept money for lazing around.
She was headed down the hall when she heard Bennie’s voice.
“I
hate
this.”
Lucky ducked her head into Bennie’s room and saw the girl sitting at her desk wearing the dress Helen had brought her. “What’s wrong?”
“Me,” Bennie fumed. “I’m what’s wrong. I’m not good at anything, least of all this stupid math. Mabel explained the percentage formula to me at least a dozen times this morning, but I still don’t know what twenty percent of eighty-nine is and I don’t care. I hate percentages, I hate math and I hate trying to do something I really hate, especially wearing this awful outfit. If I have to sit here a second longer, I’m liable to go blind.” She rubbed her eyes, then covered her ears. “Or deaf. My head is just pounding and pounding and—”
“I know the feeling.” Lucky walked into the room and stared at the textbook spread open on Bennie’s cluttered desk. A blur of math problems glared back at her. “Maybe you need a break.”
She shook her head. “Daddy’ll have my hide if I don’t finish this stuff. Then there’s the piano... Ugh, I hate Beethoven.”
“Forget Beethoven for a little while. You need sunshine and fresh air. Your dad seems like a pretty humane guy. I’m sure he doesn’t want you to go blind or deaf.”
Bennie seemed to think about that for a long moment. “Well, fresh air does give you a new outlook sometimes. Besides, you’re my nanny.” She gave Lucky a smile. “I know Daddy wants me on my best and most cooperative behavior, and that means doing what I’m told, and that means taking a break if you say so.”
“So where are we going?” Lucky asked once they were outside.
“To the barn. You like horses?”
“Mr. Ed was pretty cool.”
“Mr. Who?”
“Never mind,” Lucky said as Bennie dragged her toward the barn.
“This is Liz.” Bennie introduced Lucky to a shiny brown horse with a white splotch on her face. “She’s named after Elizabeth Taylor, Granddad’s favorite actress.”
“Your family’s really into this old-movie stuff.”
“Granddad loves movies, but Dad doesn’t seem to like them much. Not the old ones, anyway, but he did take me to see
The Santa Clause
last year.” She stroked the horse. “Liz is the best birthday present ever. Granddaddy gave her to me last month when I turned twelve.”
“And-you’re already doing percentages? Isn’t that illegal?”
“It should be.” She fed Liz a sugar cube and pouted.
“Can I feed him?” Lucky took a sugar cube, held it out to the horse and said, “How many sugar cubes do you suppose an animal this large usually eats?”
“She can eat as many as ten.”
“Let me see,” Lucky glanced into the bucket and counted. “It looks like you’ve got about fifty percent of that. You might need to get some more.”
Bennie frowned. “Oh no. I’m sure five is enough. I don’t want to spoil her appetite for lunch.”
“That’s it,” Lucky said with a smile.
“That’s what?”
“You just told me what fifty percent of ten is. It’s five.”
“I did?” Bennie’s eyes lit with excitement. “I did!”
“And it wasn’t so bad. You didn’t go blind or deaf or feel a second of pain.”
“It was easy. I mean, fifty percent is half of something, and half of ten is five.”
“What are you two doing?” Tyler’s voice drew them both around to the barn door. Clothes streaked with dirt, he stood with a saddle balanced over one shoulder, work gloves on his hands and a frown on his face.
“I solved a percentage problem,” Bennie declared.
“That’s great, honey,” he said, swiping at the sweat lining his forehead. “Why don’t you run on inside and see what Mabel’s got for lunch? I’m starved.”
“You’re not so bad, for a nanny,” Bennie told Lucky before leaving the barn. She paused to give Tyler a smack on the cheek and an enthusiastic, “I did it!”
Tyler’s gaze followed his daughter until she disappeared. Then he turned to Lucky.
She expected him to lay into her, to tell her how angry he was that she’d lured Bennie away from her studies. Instead, he smiled, that disarming smile that melted her defenses like hot popcorn melts butter.
“I’ve never seen her so excited over percentages before. Mabel isn’t just my housekeeper and cook, she’s a retired teacher who fills in as Bennie’s tutor whenever we’re between nannies. She’s been trying to teach Bennie for weeks what you just did in a few minutes.”
“Percentages are tough.” Lucky grinned. “I ought to know, I had the very same thing explained to me a long time ago, only it involved spark plugs and lug nuts.”
“You really love cars, don’t you?”
“All kinds,” she whispered. “But don’t tell my Chevy. I wouldn’t want her getting jealous.”
“What about me?” The words came out so low, she almost didn’t hear them. She wished she hadn’t heard them. Then she wouldn’t have to think about what they meant. Not that they really meant anything at all, she reminded herself. Tyler Grant didn’t mean anything with all his teasing, his heated looks, his hungry gazes.
Wait a second. Hungry?
She did a double take, but the look in his eyes had faded. Deep, unreadable blue pools stared back at her.
Okay, forget hungry. Her imagination. Too much syrup on the pancakes this morning. Her brain was suffering from sugar rot. Nix the hunger idea and move on to something safe. “Why isn’t Bennie going to school like every other kid?”
“Because Helen would come unglued if I put her in public school. She thinks Bennie is far above the average education system.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think she would do just fine in school with other kids her own age.
In
appropriate kids, as far as Helen’s concerned.”
“You sure do pay a lot of attention to Helen’s concerns.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. She’s my daughter’s grandmother, and I don’t want Bennie to ever feel caught in any disagreement between me and Helen. I want Bennie to have all the advantages. If she likes ranch life, fine. But if she ever has a craving for more, for Helen’s world of ladyhood and tea parties and opera, I want her to feel comfortable with that, too. I want her to see all life has to offer and realize she can have everything. It isn’t this life or that. She can fit in both worlds.”
“Like you?”
“Not like me.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t have it both ways, but Bennie can. She will.” He lifted the edge of his shirt and wiped at his sweaty forehead again. When he finally spoke, his voice was considerably softer. “You’re doing a good job with her. I really appreciate it.”
“Good, because I’ve got a proposition for you.” She faced him. “I’m supposed to be Bennie’s temporary nanny, so why don’t I actually
be
the nanny?” When he looked doubtful, she rushed on, “I can’t stand sitting around doing nothing and getting paid for it. I want to earn the money you’re forking over. I’m not prep-school polished, but I’m educated enough to be a darn good tutor. Besides, Helen is sure to be suspicious if she sees Mabel tutoring Bennie. That’s the nanny’s job.”

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