Susan Donovan: The night she got lucky

Are you okay? Roxanne rushed to the side of the bed and knelt on the rug, reaching for Ginger's hand. Did he hurt you?

Ginger blinked at her friend, feeling thoroughly stunned. Maybe the blackout had restricted the flow of oxygen to her brain! How embarrassing would that be, finding out from her doctor that cramming her size six body into a size four bridesmaid's dress had led to permanent brain damage?

Ginger? Can you hear me?

Huh? Ginger stared at Roxie until her friend's face came into focus. Oh. Yeah. I'm fine.

With a loud sigh, Bea shut the guest-room door and began her commentary. It simply fascinates me how men walk around this planet thinking they can just help themselves to women, like the female race is nothing but one giant sexual smorgasbord set out for their enjoyment.

Roxanne and Ginger stared at Bea in silence.

I'm just saying that some men have a pathological sense of entitlement. It must arrive at the moment of conception, along with the DNA coding for testicles.

Roxanne laughed. I think I'll make that my next quote of the day; would you mind?

Bea shrugged. Half the pearls of wisdom on your man-hating Web site are mine anyway.

And I've always given you the credit you deserve.

Bea waved her hand. More power to you. She sat on the edge of the bed. So, she said, examining Ginger. You look like you've been through the wringer. You sure you're okay?

I'm absolutely fine.

So what the hell happened? Roxanne asked.

Pretty much what Lucio said. Excuse me just a minute.

Ginger pressed the loose fabric to her chest, rose from the bed, and retreated into the dressing room. She quickly changed into a short batik skirt, sandals, and a scoop-neck T-shirt. She brushed out her hair and checked her reflection in the mirror.

Not bad, she decided, considering her recent journey to the brink. In factGinger peered closer into the mirror to be sureher eyes had a distinct sparkle to them. Her cheeks gave off a warm glow. Her lips were downright plump and rosy. It must be a hot flash, she decided, because she hadn't had a microderm abrasion since February, and hadn't yet gotten up the nerve to have lip augmentation. In fact, she hadn't touched her makeup for hours, not since she prepared to walk down the aisle ahead of Josie.

Ginger took one last glance in the mirror and let go with a contented sigh. Josie and Rick's ceremony had been the most beautiful wedding she'd ever witnessed, a real-life fairy tale. And, as she'd told Mrs. Needleman, she was ecstatic for Josie. Her friend had found true love with a truly good man, and there was no woman more deserving.

There is a man waiting for you He is out there You could still get lucky

Ginger smiled to herself at the entertaining coincidence of it all. The old lady had said those words, Ginger opened the door, and a man named Lucky was out there waiting for her. But that's all it was. A coincidence. She knew Gloria Needleman was a peculiar old lady, and Luckyno, Lucio was his real namewas just an old friend of Rick's who'd photographed the wedding. She wouldn't give it any more credence than that. Ginger didn't have time for a silly fantasy, no matter how tall, dark, and hot he was.

Or what a stupendous kisser he was.

Or how his accent melted her insides.

Or the way a strange crackle of electricity shot through her skin when he touched her.

Her friends were talking quietly when Ginger returned to the room, and by the way they abruptly ended their conversation, Ginger figured she'd been the topic.

Are you sure you're all right? Roxanne asked. You want to file charges?

Ginger shook her head. My dress was too tight and I fainted. He came to my aid. There's no crime in that.

Bea rolled her eyes dramatically. Looks like the buffet is officially open!

I can take care of myself, you know, Ginger said, shaking her head with amusement. Besides, I thought we learned our lesson about butting into other people's businessour interference almost ruined Josie's life! And here you are, ready to do the same with me? Am I going to find you two under the tree outside my window, like we did to Josie?

Roxanne's mouth opened, insulted. You were just as much a part of that as we were, and you know we had only the best intentions.

Yeah, Bea said. And I still believe there's a fine line between butting into someone's business and making sure a dear friend doesn't commit the hugest mistake of her life.

You're twenty years late on that one, Ginger said with a laugh, opening the door for them. Where were you the night I met Larry Garrison at a fraternity kegger?

Ginger's friends entered the hallway, but Roxanne turned around, narrowing her eyes. You're going to go after Lucio, aren't you?

Ginger shrugged. If I happen to see him before we leave tomorrow, I'll thank him. But I'm not going to make a big deal of it.

Oh, Lord, Bea said, rolling her eyes again.

Ginger smiled. See you for dinner about seven.

Once alone, Ginger turned off the lamp by the bed and went to the open balcony doors. 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.

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.