Dear Cupid (38 page)

“Exactly.” Amy nodded eagerly. “Which is why I think you should go skiing again and figure out a way to conquer the chairlift.”

Christine laughed. “I’ll make a deal with you, Amy. I’ll go skiing again if you take one of those nanny assignments.”

“Oh, no.” Amy shook her head, her eyes round behind her glasses. “I couldn’t possibly leave the office to someone else that long. Could I?”

“I don’t know.” Christine raised a brow. “But talk’s cheap.”

“Yes, but ...” Amy chewed her lip as she considered the idea.

“I will if you will.” Christine smiled.

Maddy looked from one to the other. “You know, I think y’all should do it. In fact, make it a bet with a time limit. Agree that one year from today whoever hasn’t met their challenge has to treat the other to a fab lunch somewhere fun.”

“You really think we should?” Excitement lit up Amy’s face.

“Absolutely,” Maddy said. “The bet gives you incentive. Amy, when you get scared about heading off to someplace you’ve never been before, just think about Christine and how your bravery is nudging her to do something she really wants to do. The same for you, Christine. When you balk at getting on the lift, just think of Amy and how you’re encouraging her to see someplace new.”

“You know”—Christine nodded—“I think that might actually help. I’d crawl over hot coals for either one of you, so why not face my fear of heights? What about you, Amy? Are you game?”

“Oh, goodness.” Amy patted her heart. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I really think I am.” Christine smiled. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Resolve spread over Amy’s face, followed by delight. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but okay!”

“All right, then.” Christine held out her hand. “Deal!” After they shook, Christine turned to Maddy. “So what about you? What will you do?”

“Me?” Maddy froze.

“Yes, you.” Christine snorted. “If we have to do something scary, so do you. What’s it going to be?”

“I know.” Amy held up a hand at shoulder height. “You have to get your artwork into a gallery.”

“Within the next year?” Maddy scoffed. “I’m not nearly ready for that. Although ... there is one thing I’ve been thinking about—”

“Oh?”

Maddy hesitated, wondering if she had the nerve to even tell them about the letter, much less act on it.

“Let me put it this way.” Christine gave her a sweet smile. “Either you join the challenge or it’s off. I’ll never downhill, Amy will never travel, and it will all be your fault.”

“Oh gee, thanks.” Maddy smirked at her. “I appreciate the lack of pressure.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Christine batted her lashes.

“Okay.” Maddy took a deep breath. “I got a job offer in the mail a few days ago.” Retrieving her macramé purse, she dug out the letter. Her hands shook as she laid it on the table. “Do y’all remember me talking about Mama Fraser?”

Christine and Amy exchanged a look and shook their heads no.

“You know, the Frasers?” Maddy prompted. “The foster parents who adopted Joe when he was sixteen?”

“Joe?” Christine’s eyebrows went up. “As in your high school sweetheart, Joe? The sexy bad boy who rocked your world, then asked you to marry him? That Joe?”

Maddy nodded, her heart racing. “That’s the one. Even though Mama Fraser was really mad at me for breaking Joe’s heart, she’s kept in touch. After Colonel Fraser died, she moved back to New Mexico, and now she runs a summer camp for girls near Santa Fe. And she’s ... well, she’s asked me to come work for her.”

Both friends stared at her with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you a little old to be a camp counselor?” Christine asked.

“I’d be one of the coordinators,” Maddy explained. “I’d have my own living quarters and I’d supervise the arts and crafts activities. It’s only for the summer, but it sounds like fun.”

“Not to mention that Santa Fe is one of the art capitals of the world,” Christine pointed out. “Maybe you could get your work into one of the galleries out there.”

“In Santa Fe? I doubt it!” Maddy laughed nervously. “My portfolio of current work isn’t nearly strong enough, but Mama Fraser says I’d have plenty of free time to paint in the evenings.”

“It sounds perfect,” Amy said. “You should do it.”

Maddy grimaced. “There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?” Christine asked.

“Joe,” Maddy said as if it should be obvious. “I don’t know how I feel about seeing him again.”

“Didn’t you tell us he’s career Army? In the Rangers or something?” Christine asked. “With everything going on in the world, I doubt he’s even in the country.”

“Actually ...” Maddy smoothed the envelope. “He was wounded two years ago and had to leave the Rangers. He works for his mom now as the camp director. So ... if I take the job, I’ll be, you know, working for him. Seeing him. Every day.”

“Would that be hard?” Concern lined Amy’s face.

Maddy huffed out a breath. “We didn’t exactly part on friendly terms. For all I know, he still hates my guts and never wants to see me again.”

Amy’s frown deepened. “If that were true, why would he have his mother offer you a job?”

“You know ...” Christine sipped more coffee. “That bothers me. I mean, how dorky is it to get your mom to fix you up with an ex-girlfriend?”

“Joe doesn’t know. Mama Fraser says she didn’t want to tell him until after she had my answer, in case I turned her down. Which suggests to me he’s still angry over my rejection.”

“Or that his mother knows he wants to see you,” Amy said, “and she doesn’t want him to be disappointed if you say no.”

“The important thing here,” Christine said, “is do you want to see
him
?”

“I don’t know.” Maddy rubbed her forehead. “I’d really like to take the job. It would be a nice bridge between the last ten years and whatever it is I’m going to do with the rest of my life. And it would help Mama Fraser, who sounds a little desperate to fill the position.”

“Plus”—Christine wiggled her brows—“you’d get to spend the summer with an old flame. From what you’ve said, things were pretty hot between you two.”

“Christine ...” Maddy laughed nervously. “I’m not going to Santa Fe so I can have wild sex all summer with Joe Fraser in front of a camp full of young girls and his mother.”

“Why not?” Christine sat back with her cup of coffee. “Sounds good to me. Well, the wild sex part, not the camp full of girls and the mother. I know how ill Nigel was those last years, so I can imagine how long it’s been since you had any sex, much less wild sex.”

“Forever.” Maddy felt her body heat at the mere thought of sex with Joe. Saying he rocked her world was putting it mildly. He’d set it on fire. “But that is totally beside the point. I just want Joe and me to get along. Who knows, maybe this is a chance for us to put the past to rest.”

“Either that or rekindle it.” Christine grinned.

“You just want a vicarious thrill since you aren’t getting any either,” Maddy said.

“Only because I made you two promise not to let me date anyone who didn’t meet your approval,” Christine grumbled.

“With good reason, considering your track record with men.” Flustered, Maddy turned to Amy. “What do you think I should do?”

Amy folded her hands on the table. “I think you should do it, for yourself, not as part of this challenge. As you said, it would get you out of the house. As an added benefit, maybe you can make peace with Joe so you can be friends.

“If you do it, though”—Amy took hold of Maddy’s hand—“you have to promise to show your work to some of the galleries while you’re in Santa Fe. And keep at it until you get one of them to take you on.”

“Gee.” Maddy tried to laugh. “Facing an old boyfriend who probably hates me isn’t enough?”

Amy’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “Not if I have to risk getting lost in some strange place and Christine has to conquer the ski lift.”

Panic crawled up Maddy’s throat. “I think the challenges are a tad uneven here.”

“Like hell!” Christine set her coffee down. “You just have to get one gallery to take on your work, and considering how good you are, that should be a piece of cake. I’m committing to spending Christmas with my whole family in Colorado.”

“Who said anything about the family?” Maddy frowned at her. “You could go on your own.”

“No, if I’m going to do it, I’ll kill two birds with one stone. Conquer the lift ... and annihilate my brother on the slopes. Preferably in front of my father.”

“A noble cause.” Maddy laughed.

“You, on the other hand, are going to go to Santa Fe, have hot sex with your old flame, and jump-start your art career. Agreed?”

Maddy laughed. “Are you making sex part of the bet?”

“No ...”—Christine grinned—“But we expect a full report. And photographic proof that Joe is as hot-looking as you claim.”

Amy snorted into her cappuccino, then had to wipe froth from her nose.

Maddy mulled it over. “I just have to get one gallery to take on a piece of my work, correct?”

“Correct,” Christine said.

“Can it be on consignment?”

Christine looked to Amy, who nodded. “Okay, on consignment. Is it a deal?”

Maddy took a deep breath. “I know I’m going to regret this—”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Christine held up her coffee. “So here’s to us, and facing down fear. May this be the start of a perfect life for all of us.”

Maddy’s stomach did a somersault as their three cups clinked. “For all of us.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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Most authors will tell you they grew up reading and started writing because they loved books. Not Julie Ortolon. Born with dyslexia, she didn’t even learn how to read until her early twenties when she discovered romance novels were worth the effort. Not until she discovered that computers have spellcheck, however, was she able to turn her favorite hobby—daydreaming romantic stories—into a career. Having her first novel hit the
USA Today
bestseller list was a dream come true.

Since then, Julie’s novels have won many awards, including two Bookseller’s Best Awards, and a Bookbuyers Best.
Almost Perfect
, book one of the Perfect trilogy, was a finalist in Romance Writer’s of America’s prestigious Rita Awards and was picked as Best Single-Title Contemporary of the Year by the readers of
Affaire de Coeur Magazine
.

You can learn more about Julie at her Website (
http://JulieOrtolon.com
) or send her an email. She loves to hear from readers and always answers email.