Page 86 of The Lucky List
“Do we need to start calling you Lucky instead of Lucy then?” Raven asks.
“No, Lucy is fine.”
Raven nods. “So, what are you going to do about Mike?”
Summer claps her hands as if she’s had the biggest revelation. “You know what you should do?”
We all stare at her in anticipation.
“You should propose!”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree,” Raven adds, and we all gawk at her. “Mike is the Irish one, right?”
“How did you?—”
“Ned.”
“Sounds about right,” Bella says.
Raven continues, “Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, and according to an old Irish legend, St. Brigid was annoyed that women had to wait on men to propose. So, she complained to St. Patrick, and he agreed to let women propose too, but they could only do it on Leap Day. Small victories, I guess, but we’re still getting fucked by the patriarchy.”
“There’s no Leap Day this year,” Summer says, sounding defeated.
“Who says she has to wait till Leap Day? If St. Patrick allowed it, she could do it on his day,” Bella declares.
“I’d have to get a ring,” I mutter, mind racing. Am I really considering this? “And there’s something else I’m waiting on that I’m supposed to get tomorrow.”
“A delivery?”
“Sort of. It could be nothing, but it’s something I wanted to look into.”
“It better not be a house listing with another realtor. If you propose and Mike moves in, you better use me to sell your house or his.”
“Of course.” I nod at Summer.
“I’ll watch your class tomorrow. Go do what you need to do, just make sure you’re back in time for the assembly,” Bella says.
Fuck you, Lady Luck. I’m off to make my own luck and get the man of my dreams.
CHAPTER 25
MIKE
Iwake up to the sun beating down on me. Stretching like a cat, I bask in the warmth of it and wiggle against the sheets.
Am I naked? I peek under the covers. Definitely naked. Why am I naked?
What time is it?
Why is it so bright in here? It’s never this bright in the morning. Only in the afternoon.
Any rest I felt vanishes when I bolt up in bed and reach for my phone. Shite. I never plugged it in. I tear out of the bed and run into the living room, dick flopping with the motion as I check the time on the oven. Fuck, it’s nearly one. The St. Paddy’s Day program is at two.
And my car is still parked on the mountain.
Feckin’ hell.
I plug in my cell and throw on some clothes. Once I’m dressed, I fidget as I sit on the bed, anxiously glaring at the phone as if doing so would charge it faster. I’m aware of every sound in the apartment building as I sit there helpless with no way to contact the outside world. No home phone. Nocomputer. Just this stupid useless feckin’ brick charging at a snail’s pace.
