Lucky Thirteen by Melanie Jackson Read Free Book Online Page A

string tie. He appeared to use his voice more as a battering ram, attempting to bowl people over with it, than as a means of communication. He wore black cowboy boots and strolled toward our group with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his vest. A silver chain looped from one vest pocket to a button hole. As a final touch, he wore a black felt cowboy hat, something I would have assumed even the most hardened cowboy would have taken off upon entering such an elegant room. He carried a cut crystal tumbler in his hand that was almost empty. He was a walking parody of a Hollywood Texan.
    “Chloe Boston, this is my neighbor, Angus Harrigan,” Miss Hightower sighed.
    “Don’t you mean your competition?” Harrigan corrected, adding a guffaw.
    “He has a horse running in tomorrow’s race against Soft Spoken Hal,” she explained.
    “Not just a horse, I have the horse running in tomorrow’s race. Slippery Weasel is the name. If you’re smart, and you look to be, you’ll bet on him to win.”
    “Excuse my father’s boasting, Miss Hightower,” said a good-looking man who walked up behind Harrigan. “He tends to get carried away when he’s been drinking.”
    “You watch your tongue, boy,” Harrigan replied, managing to make his voice sound like a rattlesnake’s warning.
    “We’re pleased to meet you, Ms. Boston.”
    The young man had a pleasant voice and a kind smile. He was dressed in an expensive-looking business suit and wore his beautiful blond hair long. He extended a hand to me.
    “My name is Wayne, Wayne Harrigan.”
    “How do you do, Mr. Harrigan?”
    “Please, call me Wayne. My father has exclusive rights to the name Mr. Harrigan.”
    “As you wish, Wayne.”
    His hand was warm and rougher than I expected. I instantly liked him almost as much as I disliked his father.
    “Can we eat now?” Harrigan trumpeted.
    “Hello, everyone,” Alex said, stepping into the room. “What did I miss?”
    Alex was dressed in a gorgeous black tuxedo which fit sloppily since he was somewhat smaller than Hillary, especially in the gut. Mark fared no better with his attire. Since he was quite tall and muscular, the tuxedo he wore fit him tight in the shoulders and rode up his arms. I looked down to see that the too short slacks he wore showed off his brown socks and loafers.
    “We were just sitting down to dinner, Mr. Lincoln,” Miss Hightower explained. “It appears that one of us hasn’t eaten yet today,” she added, looking significantly to Harrigan.
    Make that two of us, I thought, feeling almost nauseated with hunger.
    “I’m afraid you missed the introductions, but I’m sure that can be taken care of at the dinner table. Please, have a seat.”
    Miss Hightower guided me to the seat beside hers at the head of the table. I was about to pull out my chair when I was overwhelmed by a wave of unwanted chivalry. Wayne was the first to appear by my side.
    “Please, allow me,” he said, grabbing hold of the back of my chair.
    “No, I will seat the young lady,” Jose insisted, trying to shove Wayne aside.
    “I’ll take care of this, little man,” Mark interrupted, placing a hand on Jose’s shoulder.
    “Unhand me or you’ll regret it,” Jose warned.
    “Really, gentlemen. I assure you I have this taken care of,” Wayne insisted.
    A brief struggle ensued. I stepped back to watch, embarrassed by the unwanted attention.
    “Perhaps I can help, little lady,” Harrigan added.
    I looked to Alex for assistance. He was standing beside the seat opposite mine.
    “I really think that it might be my place to seat my own wife,” Alex suggested as he walked around the end of the table.
    There were now five men gathered round my chair. My embarrassment only increased with the added attention. The men were shoving and slapping at each other.
    “Perhaps Chloe can seat herself,” Miss Hightower suggested, using a raised voice of authority.
    “Perhaps you’d like to seat me, Wayne,” Sissy suggested hopefully.
    The