Good Luck

( 34 )

Overview

Lucy Parker wins the lottery on the worst day of her life. But can all the money in the world make up for a cheating boyfriend, a derailed career, and ending up in the middle of a media circus? Everyone wants a piece of Lucy…and all she wants is to escape from it all.

After life as she knows it falls apart, Lucy heads off to Palm Beach to hide out at the home of an old college friend. There, living in a tropical paradise of millionaires, Lucy acquires a new hair color, a new ...

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Overview

Lucy Parker wins the lottery on the worst day of her life. But can all the money in the world make up for a cheating boyfriend, a derailed career, and ending up in the middle of a media circus? Everyone wants a piece of Lucy…and all she wants is to escape from it all.

After life as she knows it falls apart, Lucy heads off to Palm Beach to hide out at the home of an old college friend. There, living in a tropical paradise of millionaires, Lucy acquires a new hair color, a new social set, and enough anonymity to put her notoriety behind her. Soon she’s courted by two men who don’t know her history. But just as Lucy begins to envision a new life for herself, the past catches up with her. Lucy would give up every penny to have her old life back—as soon as she’s ready to cash it all in, fate has one last surprise in store for her…one that will show her exactly what she’s worth.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Prep school English teacher Lucy Parker is having a rough day in Gaskell's disappointing latest: she's fired after a student lodges a bogus sexual harassment complaint against her, then goes home to find her live-in boyfriend in bed with another woman. Gaskell tweaks this tired setup with the day's third lightning bolt: Lucy wins $87 million in the lottery. Soon, the press is banging down her door to try to get an interview with the "Lottery Seductress," and her family and friends see her as a brand-new piggy bank. Overwhelmed, she runs off with an old friend to Palm Beach, where she becomes one of the indolent rich. Sadly, this frothy wish-fulfillment fantasy is undercut by Lucy's haplessness; she seems all but incapable of making good decisions, and certain characters' deviousness is so obvious it's tough to imagine Lucy not realizing she's being taken advantage of. The ending is, naturally, happy for Lucy, and those who wronged her feel sufficiently bad about it, but her vindication is just as much dumb luck as the lottery win was. (Oct.)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780553591514
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 10/28/2008
  • Pages: 385
  • Sales rank: 414,343
  • Product dimensions: 4.20 (w) x 6.90 (h) x 0.90 (d)

Meet the Author

Whitney Gaskell grew up in Syracuse, New York. A graduate of Tulane Law School, she worked for several years as a reluctant lawyer before writing her first novel, Pushing 30, followed by True Love (and Other Lies); She, Myself & I; Testing Kate, and Mommy Tracked. She lives in Stuart, Florida, with her husband and son.
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Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

"You're firing me?"

The morning light filtering into Dr. Johnson's no-nonsense office through the tinted windows suddenly seemed glaringly bright. The typical sounds surrounding the students' arrival at school—chatter, laughter, the occasional shout, the squeak of sneakers on industrial tile—were too loud. Even the office's blandness seemed unusually depressing—the standard-issue faux-cherry executive desk, the fussy gold lamp, the blotter trimmed with leather, framed prints of soulless pastel sailboats hanging on the wall.

Dr. Johnson sighed heavily and set her pen on the desk. Up until a moment ago, when she'd informed me I was losing my job, I'd always liked the principal of Andrews Prep. I'd found her capable, smart, tough, and fair-minded. I was now quickly changing my mind.

"I don't see that I have any choice," she said.

Dr. Johnson was fifty years old—the staff had thrown her a surprise birthday party the previous spring—although she had the sort of gorgeous, slow-to-age black skin that made her look ten years younger. She was a tall, broad-shouldered woman with closely cropped hair and dark, serious eyes. She wore one of the brightly colored suits she favored, this one a mustard yellow with big black buttons down the front.

"Of course you have a choice!" I said, my temper rising up out of the muffled fog of shock.
Dr. Johnson pursed her lips and looked levelly at me. "We take accusations of sexual misconduct most seriously here at Andrews Prep."

"Sexual misconduct?" I could feel the heat in my face, suddenly flaming with anger and outrage. "You know I didn't do anything of the kind! Matt must have made up this ridiculous story in retaliation for the failing grade I gave him last week!"

I had taught English literature at Andrews Prep for the past ten years. Matt Forrester—who was lazy, jaded, smugly self-entitled—was my least favorite sort of student. It wasn't that he couldn't do the work; he chose not to, preferring to spend the time when he wasn't in school or at soccer practice getting stoned with his friends. He hadn't read any of the books I'd assigned for class this year and the previous week had failed a test on William Thackeray's Vanity Fair, bringing his current grade down to a solid D.

Andrew Prep's policy of not allowing a student to participate in extracurricular activities unless they maintained at least a 2.5 grade point average meant that Matt had been automatically suspended from the soccer team. Two days earlier, he'd stopped by my classroom after school to argue about his grade and, when that didn't work, begged for a chance to retake the test or do extra-credit work. I'd refused.

Matt had stared at me with indolent blue eyes that drooped slightly at the outer corners. I knew many of the girls at school thought he was good-looking, with his long dirty-blond hair and fine-boned features that were pretty rather than handsome. I didn't see the attraction. I thought Matt's sneering bad-boy act was a bore.

"You'll be sorry," Matt had said. He'd practically spit the words at me, sounding too much like a toddler on the verge of a temper tantrum to be genuinely intimidating.

"Good-bye, Matt," I'd said, dismissing him. I hadn't taken his threat seriously. Most of the students at Andrews Prep were good kids, but it wasn't unheard of for one of the more spoiled ones to fall back on the old favorite from time to time: Wait until my father hears about this!

This time, the threat apparently had teeth.

Dr. Johnson cleared her throat and looked down at a yellow lined tablet on which she'd jotted notes. I knew she didn't really need to refer to them to remember the details and was doing so only to avoid eye contact with me.

"Matthew Forrester states that when he petitioned you to change his grade, you told him you would think about it and asked him to come to your classroom after school on Monday. He complied with your request. He claims that you then made a sexually inappropriate comment about the pants he was wearing, saying that you liked the way his"—Dr. Johnson paused and cleared her throat again—"buttocks looked in them."

"What?" I exclaimed. "That's insane! I didn't say that!"

"He states that you told him you'd fantasized about having an affair with a student. He claims you then offered to change his grade to an A if he would have sexual intercourse with you," Dr. Johnson said. She folded her hands together, resting them on her desk, and looked at me again. "We only have his uncorroborated accusation that this happened. I'm assuming you deny these charges."

"Of course I deny them!"

I was practically shouting, but I didn't care. If ever there was a time to shout, this was it.

Dr. Johnson sighed again, and for the first time since I'd arrived for our meeting—I'd been summoned first thing, mere moments after I'd arrived at school that morning—I saw a crack in her stony, professional-at-all-costs facade. She looked tired and, I thought, regretful.

"As I know you're well aware, Andrews Prep has a strict no-tolerance sexual harassment policy," she began.

"But I didn't sexually harass Matt! Or anyone else, for that matter!"

The truth of this was so obvious. I would never hit on one of my students. They're children. Even those who'd managed to shed their gawky adolescent bodies for the wider shoulders and hairy jaws of manhood still had the hearts and minds of children. The very idea that I'd be attracted to one of them, much less act on such an attraction, was laughable.

"Do you really think I would do something like that?" I demanded.

"This isn't about what I think. It's about what's best for this institution. And we simply cannot take the risk of having someone who's been accused of this sort of behavior around our students," Dr. Johnson said.

I stared at her, feeling sullied by the accusation. Panic began to rise up inside me, closing my throat and constricting my chest.

I drew in a deep breath and tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. "I've taught at this school for ten years. In that time I've had an exemplary record. Two years ago I was named Teacher of the Year. I have a plaque, for God's sake. And now because one troubled and angry boy, who told me I'd regret it if I didn't change his lousy grade, has made up a ridiculous and, frankly, slanderous accusation against me, just like that, I'm fired?"

Dr. Johnson was quiet for a few minutes. I felt an irrational spike of hope that my words had made an impact on her—a hope that was quashed a moment later when she finally spoke.

"Mr. and Mrs. Forrester came to see me yesterday. They're very disturbed by their son's claims. But they've agreed not to take any further legal action against you or against Andrews Prep if we agreed to terminate your employment."

Realization dawned, and suddenly it was all brutally clear. The Forresters were wealthy, even by Andrews Prep standards. Owen Forrester owned several car dealerships. His wife, Cassie, sat on every high-profile charity board in town.

"So that's it, is it?" I asked. "The Forresters have been the biggest contributors to the school for—what is it now?—three years running? I guess money counts more than the truth."

Dr. Johnson didn't reply. But her silence was as good as an admission. The horror of what was happening fully hit me. I was losing my job—no, it was more than that. I was losing my career. What school would ever hire a teacher with this sort of blemish on her record? It was the only career I'd ever wanted, and now . . . now it was gone forever. My lungs emptied and my stomach clenched so painfully that it took all of my willpower not to double over.

"Please don't do this to me," I whispered, shaking my head. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Johnson said. And although she really did sound sorry, her voice held a note of irrevocable finality.

It was absolutely gorgeous out—a perfect Florida early-autumn morning. The sky was a cloudless azure blue, and the temperature was a balmy seventy-five degrees. I felt betrayed by this idyllic weather. Bad news should summon equally moody weather: steel-gray skies, chill winds, foreboding cracks of thunder, sleet.

My feelings vacillated between numb disbelief and violent shocks of rage that left my hands shaking. I didn't bother going to my classroom to collect my personal items after I left Dr. Johnson's office. I wasn't even sure if I would be allowed to go back there. Shouldn't there be a security guard standing by, ready to escort me from the school? But there wasn't. Instead, I walked out past the school secretary, who was too busy talking to a harried mother dropping off a forgotten sack lunch to notice me, through the office door, past the few students still lingering in the hallway, even though the first bell had already rung, and out into the dazzling sunshine.

My feet seemed to be moving on their own, propelling me toward my ancient yellow Volvo parked in the teachers' lot. I loved my car, even though it was old, temperamental, and rarely had a repair bill under one thousand dollars. At least it was always easy to pick out in a sea of taupe sedans and black SUVs. It was a running joke among both the faculty and student body of Andrews Prep that the teachers' lot looked like a disreputable used-car sales lot in stark contrast to the students' lot, which more closely resembled a luxury-car dealership, full of Mercedeses, BMWs, and the ever-popular Lexus SUV. One student even drove a Bentley, a hand-me-down from her dad when he upgraded.

I never locked my Volvo, figuring no car thief in his right mind would bother with it, so I opened my car door without having to fumble for my keys and climbed in. I sat there for a long time, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my PBS telethon canvas tote bag still hanging on my shoulder. I looked in the rearview mirror once and was startled by what I saw there: My face, usually a pinkish ivory, had blanched to a sickly shade of chalk white, my brown eyes were sunken, the dark corkscrew curls I always struggled to control seemed even wilder than usual. I quickly looked away.

A car pulled in a few spots down from me. I glanced over and saw Mel Hutchinson, the terminally late biology teacher. As he opened the back door and slowly withdrew a battered briefcase, I hunched as far down in my seat as possible, hoping he wouldn't notice me.

Hurry up, I urged him silently. If he turned and saw me, he'd almost certainly stop and ask me why I was sitting there. It was a conversation I deperately didn't want to have. Not now, and certainly not with him.

Once Mel finally walked off toward the school, I started the old Volvo, backed out of my spot, and pulled out of the parking lot, the tires spinning on the gravel. I didn't know where to go. Not home. Elliott wouldn't be there—he'd told me he would be showing houses to a young newlywed couple all morning—and I didn't feel like being alone. I thought about heading to the bookstore, where I could buy an overpriced caffeinated drink and be soothed among the stacks of books. But then, glancing at the clock, I realized it was only eight o'clock. The bookstore wouldn't open for another hour.

Who gets fired before eight in the morning? I wondered. It seemed like an event that should take place over lunch or after the workday was over. Not so early in the day that stores hadn't yet opened.

Maisie, I thought, and impulsively pointed the car toward my best friend's house.

Maisie and I had been friends since her family had moved into the house next door to mine the summer before seventh grade. I'd shyly gone out to meet her when I saw Maisie standing in her driveway, straddling her bicycle as she watched the movers unload her family's possessions off the truck. I liked the look of her immediately. She was wiry and small, with short strawberry-blond hair and an impish, freckled face. We were instant friends in the way that's possible only when you're young and had remained close through our school years and beyond.

Maisie was now a stay-at-home mom to her twin three-year-old boys, Gus and Leo (short for Augustus and Leopold), and since she rarely managed to get everyone dressed and out of the house before ten o'clock, I thought there was a good chance she'd be home.

It took me five minutes to drive over to the new subdivision where Maisie and her family lived in a small three-bedroom house. All of the houses on Maisie's street were identical and packed close together in tight, precise rows. I pulled into her driveway, narrowly missing a faded red plastic tricycle lying on its side, and climbed out of my car. My legs felt stiff beneath me, as though my body had aged on the short drive over.

I could hear sounds of chaotic life inside the house while I was still five steps away from the front door. One of the twins was crying, the other was shouting something, and their dog, a Jack Russell terrier named Fang, was yapping loudly over the cacophony. I had to ring the doorbell twice before anyone heard it.

"Lucy!" Maisie said when she finally answered. She was still wearing her pajamas—red floral bottoms and one of Joe's white V-necked Ts—and already looked exhausted. She hadn't changed all that much since the first time I saw her. She had the same slim angular body, almost unchanged by puberty and pregnancy, the same short fluff of red-blond hair, the same pretty freckled face. Even though I wasn't an especially tall woman—five-five in my stocking feet—I always felt like a giantess next to tiny Maisie. Fang sprang out the door from behind her, leaping toward me, his stubby little tail wagging furiously.

"Hi, Maisie. Hey, Fang," I said faintly. I leaned over to pet the Jack Russell on his head, and he lunged at my hand, licking it in a frenzied display of delight.

Maisie's smile of greeting quickly faded, and her face quirked into a frown.

"What's wrong? You look awful. Why are you here? Come on, come inside, I'll get you a coffee," she said, rattling out the words without pausing for breath.

In what seemed like one motion, Maisie pulled me inside the house, closed the door, and slipped the tote bag off my shoulder. Her house was, as usual, a disaster zone. The debris of family life—toy trains, cars, puzzles, action figures, books, T-shirts, shoes, tissues, Fang's chew toys—was scattered everywhere. There was a bench along the wall in the hallway, presumably a place for putting on or taking off your shoes, but it was covered in bags, toys, coloring books, and a megasize package of disposable Pull-Ups, rendering it impossible to sit on.

Maisie steered me back to the light-filled, noisy kitchen at the rear of the house. It, too, was a mess. Several of the white laminate cupboards and drawers were half open, dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, cereal boxes and apple-juice containers were spread across the counters next to a messy stack of old newspapers that hadn't yet made it into the recycling bin.

The twins were sitting at the table in matching booster chairs, taking turns blowing loud raspberries at each other and laughing raucously. Whatever storm had caused the upset I'd heard while ringing the doorbell had apparently already blown over. The boys had their father's dark hair and hazel eyes but had inherited their mother's playful, mischievous personality.

From the Trade Paperback edition.

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Reading Group Guide

1. Despite the disasters she experienced at the beginning of the novel, what was good about Lucy’s life before she won the lottery? What were the best and worst changes that took place after she deposited the check?

2. How did Lucy’s parents influence her future? What explains the big difference in the way Lucy and Emma handle money?

3. Do you think Lucy would have stayed with Elliott if she hadn’t caught him with Naomi? How did her breakup, and her newfound wealth, change the way she thought about men?

4. How did your opinion of Mal and Drew shift throughout the novel? How do they affect Lucy in different ways?

5. What sustains Maisie and Lucy’s friendship? How does it compare to Hayden and Lucy’s friendship? What gives Maisie the strength to turn down Lucy’s money?

6. How does Lucy handle the secrecy of her new identity? Did she make the right choice in going underground? When are secrets helpful, and when are they harmful?

7. In the end, both Hayden and Emma realize how deeply they have hurt Lucy. What did it take for them to have a change of heart?

8. Discuss the novel’s title. How much of the success portrayed in Good Luck comes from sheer luck? How much of it depends on good choices? Which one—luck or choice—plays the bigger part in having a happy life?

9. Several of the novel’s characters, including Lucy’s mother, want to spend their resources easing the suffering of others. What determines whether someone will do charitable things with wealth, versus those who use it to serve their appetites for power?

10. What makes Whitney Gaskell’s heroines unique? How does Good Luck, along with the author’s other novels, capture the tragicomic truth about the demands of modern womanhood?

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 34 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(14)

4 Star

(10)

3 Star

(9)

2 Star

(1)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 34 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 21, 2012

    Cute book. Makes you think.....

    We all wonder about what we would do if we won the lottery. This book gives us a glimpsr into what could happen. Tje romance is cute as well. I liked this story and will read more of the authors books. This was my first

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 31, 2011

    Good Luck

    Loved this book. Kept me guessing and laughing. Another great read by one of my favorite authors. Hard to put this one down!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 3, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    Good Luck

    What a fun read!!!! Really an enjoyable book - highly recommend it!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted June 13, 2010

    Best book I have read in a long time.

    This novel is definitely for adults only, but is a very engaging story, with some elements of truth regarding people and relationships; though maybe a bit idealistic at the end, but hey, isn't that what people want? This story should definitely be made into a movie!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 15, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Good Book

    Whitney Gaskell is one of my favorite writers of all times. Her books are gripping from the first page and laugh-out-loud hilarious. Every story has great characters, heartwarming plots, and hilarious dialoge. You'll fall in love with the characters from the beginning and want to read every book she has ever written.

    Only gave it a 4 out of 5, was my least favorite of all her books so far....but still a cute book and a good read

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 25, 2008

    I Also Recommend:

    One of the best books I've read!

    Have you ever had such a bad day that you wish that you could run away? Or, have you ever wished that you could win the lottery and be set for life? If you have, then this book is for you. Lucy Parker is having the worst day of her life. She gets fired from her job, her car breaks down and she finds out that her live-in boyfriend, Elliott, is cheating on her. Feeling down, she visits her friend Maisie to clear her head. While at Maisie's, they get on the subject of lottery tickets and the probability of winning. Later in the day, Lucy stops in a gas station and decides on a whim to buy two tickets. The next morning, when she gets out the morning paper to read it , she discovers that she has the winning lottery ticket of 87 million dollars. Deciding to keep her winnings a secret for now, she goes to pick up her money at the lottery office and doesn't tell anyone where she's going. In the next few days, Lucy's life becomes a media circus, when a too nosey reporter finds out about her winning the money right after getting fired from her job. Dying to escape, Lucy gets a call from her college roommate, Hayden, to get away with her and go to Palm Beach, where Hayden's parents own a house. There, after changing her appearance to throw off the press, she meets some interesting guys and has a blast with Hayden. But sooner, rather than later, Lucy figures out that money doesn't solve all of her problems and makes it hard to figure out who she can trust.<BR/><BR/>Good Luck is a highly engrossing and entertaining book. Lucy is a love able character, who is down on her luck and you can't wait to see her get away from all the bad press. I find Ms. Gaskell's writing flawless and never boring. This is the first book that I've picked up by her, and I can't wait to see what else she has in store for future books. You can visit her website to find out more.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 27, 2014

    :-)

    Great book. It has it all; romance, drama, comedy.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 10, 2012

    Inapropriate

    Totally inaprpraite . Im eight

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 10, 2012

    Sausages and pancake breakfat with fresh squirrel pie

    Good... This just seems like a por* story though. Its good however.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 9, 2012

    Woah

    I......wow

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 9, 2012

    Lexi

    Holy sh-i-t girl. that happened to me inrl

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 9, 2012

    Hawk

    Dee-um-nuh! (Aka streched out da.mn) she got ra.ped good! XD

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 9, 2012

    Samanthas begining chap 1

    Sam heard groans,grunts,yelling,screaming,gasping, she felt hands hold her own. Then nothing...hands hitting her...someone proding at her. She heard her self panting and groaning like a b.tch. but she couldnt control her self. She felt a d.ck slide into her c.nt. she screamed and struggled unable to escape. It seemed like a unescapeable night mare. Her whole body hurt like living death. she finally at last mercifully fell unconsios. * * *
    Sam yawned and stretched her arms her whole body ached. " maybe tessas home. I probaly caught a cold." She opened her eyes but she wasnt at home. She was in a random hotel room. Her clothing was scattered aroud the room. Her skin blistered red and she was naked. She groaned trying to clear her foggy mind. She sat up and the covers were on the floor. Her wallet had been searched and emptyed. Her goden neckalce was gone. So was her whole purse and bag but her phone was there. She looked around and there was a video on youtube. She played the video. The scream was black the fadded in. Sam gasped and dropped her phone. The video showed her layin in getting her vir.gin.ity tooken. She continued and the was talking " look at this little **** ****** ******** was **** **** drunk and know this **** is getting **** like a *******" then it showed her haveing a or.gas.m. sam colapsed on te bed and started crying a storm. She hitt the pillows and threw them around te room. She screamed he hate and noticed a tatoo on he for arm tat said " little bi.tch took a beatling" tht was te last straw. She got dressed and snuck out. She looked around and couldnt find er masarati. She stormed down the roan her blode hair swirling behind her. She goto ti the local bar and spoted her black masarati. She got insde and hit the gas. He sped down the road and straight to the police. She kicked open the doors yelled at the attendences for a search on her tattoo she complned that she just got r.ped and was out in youtube...the cheif a girl was understanding an took her under her wing..... to be continued.

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 19, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    Lucy makes the tale intriguing

    In Florida Andrews Prep Principal Dr. Johnson fires her because lazy student Matt Forrester accused her of sexual harassment misconduct. Angry at the false charges that her boss accepts without investigating, Lucy Parker explodes. She has taught literature there for a decade and was teacher of the year two years ago. Her only crime was failing a student who deserved the poor grade. A revelation occurs that Matt¿s wealthy parents threatened legal action against the school if Lucy is not fired.<BR/><BR/>Lucy needs to escape her troubles as she knows the accusation will follow her to any school she applies for employment even as her dilapidated Volvo dies. However, she buys a lottery ticket only to come home to see her husband Elliot in bed with a blonde. The media exposes the Forrester charge so a depressed Lucy, after winning $87 million in the Florida lottery, decides to escape so she heads to Palm Beach where her college buddy Hayden lives. He allows her to stay and gives her a makeover that everyone says makes her gorgeous and glamorous; everyone except Mal, who insists her previous wholesome look, was prettier.<BR/><BR/>Talk about a negative streak even with the lottery win (more than Melvin and the Bluenotes¿ Bad Luck or Short in Pure Luck), Lucy assumes she is bottomed out each time until the next fall from grace occurs. The money enables her to have some flexibility but even she wonders whether she it will change her along the lines of Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? The school incident has already done that as she is cynical instead of idealistic. Lucy makes the tale intriguing.<BR/><BR/>Harriet Klausner

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