Lucky Number Four Page 2

  “It’s beautiful, but I don’t think it’s in my price range. I mean, I’m a college student and I work, so…” I shrug.

  My eyes are drawn to a billboard outside the window with a picture of a male model in his underwear. The model is Drew. I swear by my twenty-twenty vision it’s the same grinning guy who is presently sitting across from me. I look out of the corner of my eye and see him look at the window and then he chuckles.

  “Yeah, it’s me. The others are jealous, but what can I say? Fame, baby, fame.”

  Emily rolls her eyes and glares at him. “Conceited much? Pandora, look. You can afford it. Our dad owned the building, and he gave it to Drew for his birthday last year. Yeah, I know he’s a spoiled brat, but I have to love him—it’s in the family contract.” A pillow flies across the room and hits her in the head. “Anyway, money isn’t the problem. It’s whether you’re a fit, and I have an overwhelming feeling, you are.”

  “So you live here with Drew and another roommate?” I ask when it finally sinks in this is his apartment.

  “Oh. No, I don’t live here. I just popped in for the weekend. Drew and two others live here,” she says. I get the feeling she’s not telling me everything. “Why don’t I show you what would be your room?” Emily gets to her feet, pulling me up as she does.

  “Who are the two others?” I ask. A feeling of dread lies heavily in my stomach.

  “Oh, just two guys who are model friends of Drew,” Emily says quickly as Drew laughs.

  “I’m the best-looking one, of course,” he quips.

  “Drew, you are not helping. Go to your room,” Emily’s voice echoes in the vast room.

  “Okay, okay.” Drew stands and moves closer to us. “All kidding aside, Pandora, you are the one. When can you move in?”

  “God, Emily. What is all this racket?” a male voice with an Australian accent sounds behind me.

  I turn to see a brooding, masculine blond guy in a robe, pajama bottoms, and bare feet. I can’t believe my eyes! Julie and I drooled over him in a magazine last month as we were being made up for her wedding. A few feet away from me stands one of the most famous models in the world. This must be a dream.

  “Hey, Liam, come meet our new roommate, Pandora,” Drew says cheerfully as Liam scowls more.

  “I need coffee. I was up all night, and I get no respect for my rest,” he mumbles as he exits the room.

  “Ignore him, Pandora. Liam pulled an all-nighter for a shoot last night, and if Drew had behaved himself, Liam wouldn’t be as peeved as he is. Liam really is a sweetheart. As is Colin. He’s from England and is a love.” Emily grabs my hand as if she knows I’m ready to flee this place. “When can you move in? Oh, I forgot to show you your room, didn’t I?”

  I pinch myself—no, not a dream. It’s time to go. I have enough drama in my life with school, work, and my crazy family. No way am I living with three giant male models. I figure the third one is tall too, because geez, there are no short models.

  “Thanks, Emily, but I have to run or I’ll be late for class. It was nice meeting you and Drew, but I think I’ll have to pass. I know you’ll find someone who’ll fit in here. This place is a little too big for—”

  “If it’s about cleaning the place, don’t worry. They have a housekeeping team who comes in three times a week. It’s included in the rent. Oh, and the cable, and the phone,” Emily says in a rush and then smiles as if she just sealed the deal.

  She still has a hold of my hand, and I give it a light pull. She lets go as I grab my backpack and move past her before she can react.

  “Sorry, I must run. Nice meeting you,” I say as I walk to the front door and tug it open—only to find a tall, sandy-haired, drool-worthy man attempting to put his key in the lock.

  SHUT THE FRONT DOOR.

  His smile is killer, but it turns to puzzlement as I push past him, saying a quick hello. I do have manners after all. I sprint to the elevator, thankful it’s still on the floor, and collapse against the wall as the doors close.

  Thinking back, I don’t really remember much about my classes today. I was distracted all day with my mind returning to the events at the loft. I had imagined what it would be like to live with three, drop-dead gorgeous, complete eye-candy guys. Not that any of them would have the slightest interest in my Medusa hair and me. I’m sure they date tall, beautiful female versions of themselves. Oh, well. I guess it’s going to be a fun night of scouring the want ads on the interwebs when I get home.

  The minute I step into the apartment, I feel the vibe—the “we’re not having sex in our bedroom” vibe.

  I quietly close the door again and back away from it when I hear, “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS, Kevin! More!”

  Homework in the apartment lobby it is then.

  We have to convince her to move in. That small amount of time with her made me feel something….again. Now to convince the others that she is our LUCKY NUMBER FOUR! She is the perfect package, and we must treat her delicately so she doesn’t run away. What if she won’t move in? What if I never see her again? No, that can’t happen. A few phone calls will take care of this. I can’t wait to see her again.

  My eyes feel like they’re full of sand, and the incessant ringing of my cell is giving my headache a headache. Groaning, I squint, looking at the brightly lit screen, and moan (yes, it’s different from a groan) after seeing who it is.

  “Hi, Mom!” I say, trying to sound awake, alert, and happy.

  “Dora, sweetie, what’s wrong?” my psychic mother asks. Yes, she really is a psychic, medium, or dead talker … or whatever you want to call her really. Luckily, she can’t read immediate family members, so I’m safe. She’s relying instead on mother’s intuition, which is usually right on target. One of the reasons I want to be a therapist, counselor, or psychologist is because I’m an empath, which means I feel other people’s emotions. It took me a few years to perfect “my gift” to the point I wouldn’t walk around depressed all the time. It hit as I embarked on the wonderful journey they call puberty, and with the crazy hormones and the emotional bombardments, I was an utter mess.

  Luckily Henry, my mom’s spirit guide, informed my mother of my condition and she helped me deal. When I was younger, I used to walk up and hug random strangers and end up with wet shoulders on a daily basis from their violent shedding of tears. Try explaining that to your friends. Julie and Kevin were the first to know, but our other friends, well, they took a while to come to terms with the fact that I was different. More different than being redheaded, left-handed, unable to tan, and having the ability to play connect the dots with my freckles.

  “Nothing is wrong, Mom. I just woke up,” I reply, hoping that will be the end of her prying.

  “Just woke up? People die in bed! It’s after eight. Aren’t you supposed to be at work? You’re sick, that’s it! I will be right over with chicken soup—”

  “Mom! Mom, listen I’m not sick. I don’t have to work today. Steven wanted one of his shifts covered, so he took mine today. And I haven’t slept past eight since I was nine,” I say rolling my eyes, then focusing on an ugly brown stain on my ceiling. Where did that come from? What the hell is it?

  “So I’ve had this feeling since yesterday that something really rattled you.”

  Shoot, I missed the first part of her sentence while I was pondering the ceiling. I hope she believes I’m not sick…at least, not yet. Maybe that stain is some kind of fungus.

  Oh hell, I’ve missed more. Concentrate, Dora, concentrate.

  “Are you listening, Dora? I’m going to drive into the city and pay you a visit if you don’t answer me,” my mom threatens.

  It’s a threat I take seriously, especially since my mom doesn’t drive well in the city. Last time, she flipped off a policeman who cut her off, laid on her horn, and ended up with a ticket. I mean, red lights on a police car mean pull over. I don’t care who you are.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m listening. I’m fine, yesterday was fine, and tomorrow I’m s
ure I’ll be fine. Now give my love to Dad and the grandparents. I have to get up and get ready.”

  “Get ready for what? You’re off today. You’re sick, I knew it. I’ll call your dad at work and tell him I need the car—it’s an emergency,” my mom’s worried voice comes through louder.

  God, I wish I had listened.

  “Mom, I still have school this afternoon, and I’m going to look for…” I say, almost telling her I’m apartment hunting, which until I find one, is not going to be told to anyone, especially her. “A new coffee pot … I kind of broke ours.”

  “Are you sure you’re telling me everything?” she demands.

  “Yes, Mom. I’ve got to go and beat Kevin for the bathroom. Love you!” I hang up before she can answer, and drag myself out of bed.

  I really need to get a good night’s sleep soon. I laid awake for hours last night going over the events at the loft. I’d acted like a complete moron, like I’d never been around such beautiful men before. Most of the night, I pondered what my life would be like living with the three of them. Then the thought of a foursome got into my head, and I stayed awake longer, trying to forget the image I created. I finally went to sleep, only to dream a totally screwed-up dream involving three sex-crazed zombies that looked suspiciously like the three drool-worthy models, but dead looking.

  I kept yelling at myself in the dream—okay, someone who looked like me being chased by these creatures—to run, run for the hills. But would she listen? No, she slowed down so much that they grabbed her. Then my phone woke me up. Damn, it was right at the good, or bad, spot, I haven’t quite decided which. Maybe something to ponder in the shower while naked—no, not there. Maybe on the subway to school.

  I hear Kevin whistling, and I beat his ass to the bathroom by seconds, shutting the door in his shocked face.

  Calculus—a total waste of mine and my professor’s time. When will I ever use this in the field of psychology? I want to be a counselor or a therapist, someone who helps others figure out their problems. Not work with math. Okay, so I may use basic math for doing my checking account, the percent-off sales on my favorite shoes, and other mundane things, but Calculus? When the hell would I ever use this?

  I feel a nudge on my shoulder. “Are you as lost as I am?” Karen, a fellow student, whispers.

  I nod my head in response. The door to the room is suddenly flung open and a girl who looks to be a freshman runs in with a note in hand. She delivers it to Dr. Parker, the professor.

  “Pandora Phillips, you need to report to the office immediately,” booms Dr. Parker, his eyes picking me out of the crowd.

  My stomach churns. What’s happened? An accident? A death? Has my mom come to the city to check up on me?

  I look down at my cell, and though it’s on silent, it has a signal and there are no new calls. Surely someone would have tried my cell … unless it’s really bad news.

  “Pandora, did you hear me?” Mr. Parker’s voice seems louder.

  I pick up my backpack and walk in a daze to the exit, following the energetic freshman down the hall. By the time I reach the office, many horrible scenarios have flashed into my mind, and I feel like I’m going to hurl any second.

  The first thing I spy in the office is the staff standing in one corner staring at a space that’s blocked from my view by an empty bookcase. They look my way when the perky freshman, who is holding the door open for me, announces my arrival. The four middle-aged women look at me in shock, dazed, in fact, as if in a trance, but with tiny smiles on their faces. They turn their attention back to the space I can’t see, and I walk around the sight-blocking item, seeing immediately what is causing their zombie stares.

  There I go with zombie references again.

  They look like three mouthwatering trees—yes, trees, as they all tower over my five-foot-four self like trees. Drew, Liam, and the third hottie stand before me. Drew and the third one are wearing huge grins, while Liam looks bored.

  “Dora, sorry we interrupted your class, but we had to see you. We want you! Don’t we, boys? Oh, and this is Colin. I don’t think you were properly introduced yesterday,” Drew says with a heart-stopping, mischievous grin.

  I hear sighs from my right and turn to see all four women and the freshman smiling like fools while fanning themselves. “They want her,” I hear one of them whisper.

  “For Christ’s sake. They mean they want me for their roommate,” I practically yell, and still the five act like they don’t hear me. “Outside, now.” I point to the door and watch in awe as they obey. I turn back and see the eyes of the silly women and girl following their retreat. “I swear, you’d think you’ve never seen male models before,” I say before following the cutest denim-clad butts I’ve ever seen.

  A slight autumn breeze swirls leaves around my feet as I stand before the gorgeous trees. “What the hell are you three doing here? How did you find me?” I demand, and then feel smug as I watch Colin’s and Drew’s smiles slip a little. Liam, his arms crossed, still looks bored.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Drew says. “You told us your name, and my dad knows some people, and we … well, we tracked you down to your apartment. Your friend was very friendly, but I think she went through a shocked and then angry phase for a few moments when she found out you were looking for another place to stay. Kevin calmed her down. He’s a pretty cool guy.”

  “And you bigmouthed behemoths forced my whereabouts from them after telling my secret. What the hell? I didn’t ask for this,” I exclaim. I watch two sets of faces have the grace to look embarrassed, but Liam…you guessed it. Bored. What possessed these three mega famous models to track me down? I know most women would jump at the chance of sharing a space with them, but not me. Look at those silly women drooling over them with their faces plastered to the window. I don’t want my life scrutinized under a microscope by reporters and ending up as some new tabloid fodder. No, I want low-key. I want to finish my degree and find a nice sensible man to settle down with—normal, that’s what I want. I take a deep breath before continuing. “Okay, so the secret is out and I’ll have to make amends, but what is your deal? Why me? There must be a million people you could line up to move in with you guys.”

  I watch as Colin takes a step forward. “Pandora, I humbly apologize for our intruding. Drew is stubborn, and when he makes up his mind and then ultimately makes us make up our minds, well…” he says, spreading his arms out and shaking his head. His English accent has me mesmerized, and all anger flees my body. A warmth starts to build inside me. “We would really love for you to consider moving in with us. But it will have to be your decision,” he finishes and steps back as Drew opens his mouth.

  “Yeah, what he said. Besides, we really like Julie and Kevin, and we asked them to move in too. Oh, not in our apartment,” Drew hurries, seeing my confusion. “No. Remember I own the building? We have several lofts empty, so we offered them one.”

  Colin rolls his eyes and Liam shakes his head. What the hell? I feel my anger returning.

  “Okay, so you bribed my friends with a dream loft just to force me to move in with you. What kind of freaks are you? I’m sure they turned you down. They did, didn’t they?”

  From the looks on their faces, even Liam’s, I realize I don’t need an answer. Of course they didn’t! The silence is deafening. We stand there awkwardly with Drew being the only one looking me in the eye.

  “Pandora, I’m sorry. I can be a little pushy.” The two beside him make sounds in agreement. “But I felt we had a connection yesterday, and we will make things as easy as we can for you to say yes. Please say yes.” He gives me puppy-dog eyes and Colin smiles, which makes my legs a little weak, and even Liam is now wearing a ghost of a smile.

  “I guess I’m stuck. If I don’t give in, I’ll be homeless.” My voice is weary.

  “Fantastic!” Drew moves forward, but stops as I put my hand out. I have no idea what his intentions are, but I’m not in the mood to find out. “Here’s your key! Let’s go, guys,” he
says, handing me an antique-looking silver key. “Oh,” he says over his shoulder as he hustles the others across the fallen leaves covering the dying grass, “the movers are at your apartment right now, so just meet up with us at our apartment.” His last words float on the breeze as they quickly round the corner.

  Sons of bitches. How dare those conniving behemoths assume I would consent to move in? I’ve been played. I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is, now it’s going to have so much drama. I don’t like drama. Why me?

  Turning around, I see the five female faces still pressed against the windows with those silly dreamy looks still present and accounted for. I huff as I storm off back toward my class. I’m pretty sure my blood pressure is sky-high at the moment.

  I don’t pay attention in the remaining few minutes of class. I can’t wait until I can leave. By tomorrow, the whole campus will find out what happened to the short, plain, little redheaded Dora. I know most women would love to be in my position, but all I want to do is finish school, get a job, and find a sensible man to settle down with. Is that too much to ask? No

  I take a deep breath as I prepare to enter the building. A young, fresh-faced guy behind a desk quickly stands up and smiles. “Ahh, Ms. Phillips, so happy you’re joining us. I live here too. Drew—I mean, Mr. Johnson—rents me the apartment here on the first floor,” he rushes. “I man the desk when I’m not in school. I believe we both go to the same one.”

  He finally takes a breath and I return his smile. It’s not his fault I’ve been ambushed.

  “Call me Dora. And you are…?”

  “Brad. Bradley Mason,” he replies.

  “Nice to meet you, Brad. Well…” I hesitate.

  “Your stuff has arrived and your friends are in their apartment. If you need anything, just ask.”

  “Thanks, Brad. I better go up and unpack. Later, okay?” I say, my teeth clenched as anger flows through me again. Brad presses the elevator button and it dings, the doors open and I step inside.