Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella (12 page)

Not that anyone could ever take Charlie’s place.

The way she smiled all the time. The way she took delight in even the most mundane office task. The way . . .

Dan shut off the thoughts of the sassy little blond-haired, green-eyed Cinderella. He was here to talk about business.

He knocked on the door.

“Coming.”

Con opened the door, a surprised look on his face. Rather than inviting him in, Con just stood there, staring. “Dan?”

“I need to talk to you.” No, not need. Dan didn’t need anyone. Especially not Charlie.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” His partner glanced nervously over his shoulder. “It’s late and I was getting ready for bed.”

“There’s an advantage to being the boss, you can come into work late tomorrow.” Dan couldn’t go home. Not yet. It was too quiet at his house. Everywhere he looked he saw Charlie.

He pushed past his partner. “We really need to talk.” About business, not about Charlie. Dan was done thinking about Charlie, dreaming about her, worrying about her. He was done—

“Con?”

Hell, he was even hearing her voice now. That husky sort of sweetness that made even frogs think about kissing. He turned toward the bedroom where his backstabbing, rebounding Cinderella stood wearing a tank top and shorts.

A very thin tank top.

Coming out of Con’s room.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you had one of your women here?” Dan turned and walked toward the door. “You know we never let business come before pleasure. And Charlie can be a lot of pleasure, if you can overlook her emotional baggage. But I don’t suppose that was the type of baggage you were concentrating on, was it, old buddy?”

“You really don’t think I, that we . . . well, I never touched her.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I interrupted. I’ll let you two get back to whatever it was you were doing.”

“Dan,” Con said.

“Let him go, Con. He’d rather believe that his best friend and partner stabbed him in the back than believe you came and found me because you thought he cared for me. You see, if Dan can make himself believe you betrayed him, he can justify cutting you off too. Just like if he made himself believe he was my rebound, he could justify sending me away. Right, Dan?”

“I guess I was right,” Dan said, ignoring her comments. “Any man would do. If not me, well, then Con.”

“If I was smart I would have fallen for Con right up front. He’s a man who can express his feelings. He doesn’t hide from them or run from them.”

“I don’t hide from anything, Charlie,” Dan said.

No, Daniel Ferguson Martin had learned early in life that some things couldn’t be escaped. They had to be faced and confronted. Dan Martin didn’t hide from the truth of things, and the truth of things in this instance was that he was right—Charlie was on the rebound.

“You’re hiding from what you feel for me,” she said.

“Lust, pure and simple. And I guess it’s obvious I’m not the only one with those feelings. Right, Con?” Lucky for him that’s all it was, or seeing her here with his best friend would have torn him apart.

Dan didn’t question the pain that had torn through him when he’d seen Charlie walk out of Con’s room. The pain that still stabbed at him.

“Then maybe you’re hiding from what I feel for you.”

“What you thought you felt, at least until you started thinking you felt the same thing for Con here,” he corrected her.

Con, who’d been trying to do his impression of a potted plant, took a step toward the door. “I think I’ll go for a drive.”

“Don’t you dare leave me, Conrad Estoban.” Charlie stepped in front of him and started shaking her finger at him.

“You’re the one who brought me back here.” She stopped shaking and stabbed a finger at his chest to emphasize the point. “You told me to jump naked into your stupid partner’s bed on the off chance I could jump over his walls and into his heart as well.”

Charlie whirled to face Dan. This time the finger shook in his direction. “I guess Con didn’t know the truth of the matter. Whatever heart you have is so walled off that anyone trying to jump in is more likely to bash their head against all those stones.” She started to stab her finger into Dan’s chest as well, then pulled back, as if touching him would bring her too much pain.

There were tears in her eyes.

She was going to cry. Dan could handle the thoughts of Charlie and Con together better than he could handle Charlie’s crying.

Con braved another step toward the door. “Really, I should—”

Charlie whirled back to Con. “Sit right there and shut up, Con.”

Con sat.

Charlie turned back to face Dan. He saw there were still tears welling in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. “Listen,” he said, “you don’t have to apologize for falling for Con. All the women do.”

“I haven’t fallen for Con. Okay, maybe I fell for his lines. Lines like,
Dan needs you. Come back.
” Charlie shook her head. “I don’t know how I can continue to make such colossal mistakes. You don’t need anyone, do you, Dan?”

“No,” he admitted. “I told you that.”

“You sure did. I was just too much in love to listen. But I’m done with that. I’ve got things to do, and ramming my heart against the walls around yours isn’t one of them.”

“Going to look for a new man to rebound on?”

“No. I’m going back to my original plan of swearing off men for good. Life’s so much easier that way. And I’m going to get a job in New York. There are tons of museums there, and I’m sure one of them can use someone with my qualifications.”

“You’re not going to New York by yourself.” Charlie on the loose in the Big Apple? He didn’t even want to think of what kind of trouble she could get into there.

“Sure I am. It looks like I’m going to have to get used to being by myself. I’ll be one of those weird spinster ladies. You know, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat. Yep, that’s a sure sign of spinsterhood. It’s a small slide from there. One cat, then a couple kittens, and the next thing you know, you’re eighty and your house is one huge litter box.”

Something changed in Dan’s eyes. A softening. A couple of days ago, Charlie might have taken the slip in his armor as a good sign, but she was done being optimistic about Dan. His wall might have an occasional crack, but he was too good at his emotional blocks to let it last for long.

“Charlie—”

“Just go home, Dan,” she said, wearily. Charlie had never been so exhausted in her life. “I promise you, I’m done listening to Con. I won’t show up naked in your bed. I can promise you that.”

“I—”

“Go away, Dan.”

“I think the lady’s had enough for tonight. Go home, Dan.”

Charlie watched Con lead Dan toward the door. She retreated into the bedroom and shut the door.

A few minutes later there was a light knock. “Charlie?”

“Come in, I’m decent.”

“Do you need anything?”

The gentleness in Con’s voice was almost her undoing. But she wasn’t going to cry. She was done crying over men. “Nothing you can give me, Con. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry I brought you here and put you through that.”

“I should have known better. I’ll just say good night.”

“Charlie, are you sure you’re okay?”

Okay? Charlie doubted she’d ever be okay again. “No, I’m not. But there’s nothing either one of us can do about it.”

The novocaine was starting to wear off and Charlie almost welcomed the pain. Maybe, if she was lucky, her heart would simply shatter, and the pain and the longing would stop.

She hoped so.

But she doubted she’d be that lucky.

CHAPTER TEN

“I’m just about ready, Con.”

Con glanced out the kitchen window for about the hundredth time that morning. “Finish your coffee first.”

Charlie took another slug of coffee and winced at the bitter taste. Con certainly had a better handle on making a tolerable brew than Dan did, but his efforts still left a lot to be desired.

“What should I do with your check?” Con toyed with the curtain again.

“I’ll send you an address as soon as I’m settled.”

“You’re not afraid I’ll give it to Dan?”

“Ha!” she laughed. “As if Dan would even think about asking for it. He’s made his position very clear.”

Con nodded, still staring out the window. Was he avoiding eye contact with her because he felt guilty? Charlie hoped not. Con had tried to help. It wasn’t his fault that his partner was a stubborn, wall-building, suspicious ogre of a man.

That wasn’t fair and Charlie knew it. Dan had played her white knight. Instead of a charger, he rode a big rig named Gloria. But horses or semis didn’t really matter. What mattered was that despite his best efforts, Dan had the heart of a hero. Someday some woman would get past the walls he’d built and teach him how to love.

The thought sent a shaft of pain spearing into her heart, but Charlie loved Dan enough to hope he found that someone sooner rather than later.

“It’s time for me to go,” she said softly. Actually, it was past time.

Con finally let the curtain fall back into place. “You’re right, it’s time to go.”

Time to go. Time to leave Erie, Pennsylvania. She was serious about New York. It was time to move on, and New York seemed as good a place as any.

“Let me get my bag.”

“Already taken care of,” Con said.

She nodded. “Thanks for finding me last night and bringing me here. You have a nice house, Con. A nice house for a very nice man.”

He opened the kitchen door that led to the driveway. “I hope you still think so when you see . . .” He hesitated.

Charlie walked past him and saw why. There sat Dan, in the semi he’d driven that first day.

“I take back every nice thing I said and thought about you, Conrad Estoban. You’re a rat.” She stormed down the driveway, past the rat’s friend, who stood by the truck’s front tire.

“Get in the truck, Charlie.”

“No.” Charlie Eaton might be slow on the uptake, but she’d finally learned her lesson. Never trust a truck-driving man. Better yet, never trust a man. “This Cinderella has learned that Prince Charming doesn’t exist. I think you pointed out that you were content being a frog. So, go croak somewhere else.”

“Con said you were heading for New York.”

“Well, I’m not, at least not with you.” No way she was going anywhere with Dan ever again.

“Get in the truck.”

“Go to hell, Dan.”

“I’ve been there and back,” he said softly, almost too soft for Charlie to hear. But she did hear it and some of her anger began to melt. Quickly, she tried to whip it back into full force. Her anger was all that protected her fragile heart.

“I know all about hell,” Dan continued. “Now that I’ve got heaven in my sights, I’m not willing to go back. Get in the truck.”

“Con, you coward,” she shouted back to where Con lurked in the kitchen doorway. “Get out here and get rid of your partner and his truck so I can get in my car and leave.”

“Sorry, Charlie,” he called back. “No can do.” The rat actually had the audacity to grin. “You don’t need your Blazer. Dan’s driving. He has some things to say to you.”

“I think he said more than enough last night,” she muttered.

“You’re right about that,” Dan conceded. “More than enough to hurt you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do, Charlie. Give me one more chance.”

“I said I was done beating my heart against your stone walls.”

“There aren’t any left, at least not for you.” He stepped away from the truck door, toward her. “I need you, Charlie.”

“Ha!”

“Let’s get in the truck and talk,” he coaxed.

“No.” Charlie wasn’t going to allow herself to dream anymore. She hadn’t been playing Cinderella, but Sleeping Beauty. She’d been lying there, dreaming about her Prince Charming. Only her prince turned out to be a frog and she was done with her dreams.

“Charlie, I—”

Whatever Dan was about to say was lost as a car sped up the driveway. “It’s the Wicked Witch of the West,” he muttered.

Charlie recognized her mother’s car and groaned. “You’re really mixing your fairy tales. I think we’ve got Cinderella.”

“And her tennis shoes.”

“And
The Frog Prince
, and now you’re talking about the
Wizard of Oz
, which isn’t really a fairy tale at all.” Bantering with Dan was easier than thinking about dealing with her mother.

“But in this case, it’s accurate. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but this version of
Cinderella
doesn’t come with a wicked stepmother, but a wicked witch of a mother.”

“You’re not telling me anything I didn’t know before,” Charlie muttered.

Con’s horrible coffee was already burning a hole in the lining of her stomach. She really couldn’t deal with her mother now but didn’t see any way to escape the confrontation.

Her mother’s car stopped behind Dan’s semi. “It’s not just the Wicked Witch of the West, but one of the flying monkeys too,” Charlie groaned.

“Charlotte.” Harriet Eaton flounced from the car and faced her daughter.

Charlie forced her shoulders back. Eatons met their challenges head-on. And Harriet was definitely a challenge. “How did you find me here, Mother?”

“Winslow had you followed.”

“He what?” Charlie’s broken heart was momentarily forgotten as the outrage of what her mother just announced sank in.

That’s how Harriet had known where to send Con last night.

Winslow, the rat, slunk from between the semi and the car. “Your mother and I decided that you weren’t quite rational, so I hired someone to see to it you didn’t hurt yourself.”

“What you were worried about me hurting was my reputation, which would reflect badly on the both of you.”

“There’s that as well,” Winslow said.

Harriet glared at her daughter. “The wedding’s all arranged.”

“There’s not going to be a wedding,” Charlie said for the umpteenth time.

Harriet ignored her and continued, “The wedding is in three weeks, so it’s time to stop playing these games and come home and assume your place in society.”

“Mother, do you ever listen to yourself talk?”

Harriet looked confused by the question. “Of course I do.”

“You’re a stuck-up, social-climbing snob. You’re an embarrassment to me and to yourself. Just go away.”

“Charlotte.”

“Charlie, Mother. I’m Charlie. And I’m not going back to the life you had mapped out for me. I’m going to New York.”

Harriet raised a well-plucked eyebrow. “Charlotte, don’t be ridiculous.”

“The only one being ridiculous is you, Mother. You’ve worked so hard to forget your past—to forget that once upon a time you were Harriet Wisniewski. To forget that you went to public schools, lived in a trailer park, and that you went to college on a scholarship. And you really want to forget that you worked as a waitress. You act like that’s something to be embarrassed about, when in reality, who you are now is your biggest embarrassment. Go away, Harriet.”

She might love her mother, but she certainly didn’t respect her.

“I’m not marrying anyone, certainly not Winslow here.” She turned to her almost-husband.

“Winslow, I tried to tell you about my concerns for weeks, but you just ignored them. And then the night of our rehearsal, I came to you and said I didn’t think I could do it, and you ordered me to marry you. Ordered me. Winslow, ours was never a partnership. You saw how I let Harriet push me around and decided that I was malleable and would make a suitable wife. Maybe I thought so too for a while. Guess what, we were both wrong.”

She paused a moment and added, “Can you honestly say you love me?”

“We had a good relationship and certainly I have feelings for you,” he said.

“But do you love me? Can you honestly say that your heart broke when I ran out on you?”

He didn’t say anything, and that said it all.

“Winslow, somewhere out there is a woman who will love you, a woman you’ll love, and for both your sakes, I hope she gives you a run for your money. So go find her. And whatever you do, stop listening to my mother. I’ll never marry you.”

“It would be illegal as hell anyway since Charlie here is marrying me,” Dan added.

Charlie turned. In her annoyance with her mother, she’d almost forgotten Dan. She shot him a cautious smile. He might not love her, but he couldn’t resist playing her white knight one last time.

“A truck driver?” Harriet gasped. “You might have a fling with one, but you wouldn’t really marry one, would you?”

“Yes, he’s a truck driver, and yes, I would have done more than have a fling with him. But I’m not. You see, he doesn’t love me any more than Winslow does. And I deserve to be loved. I deserve to have someone to love me for me. So don’t worry, Mother, I’m not marrying Dan.”

Harriet’s face lightened, so Charlie quickly added, “And I’m not marrying Winslow. I’m not marrying anyone, ever. As a matter of fact, I’m going to the pound today to get the first of what will probably be many cats.”

She could visualize all those long and lonely years with only her cats to love. Charlie couldn’t resist a little self-indulgent sniffle. “You see, I’ve decided to become a slightly eccentric spinster. I’m going to wear odd clothes, talk to my cats, and work in a museum so I can shush people all day.”

“I think it’s librarians who shush,” Dan said. “And you’re not going anywhere.”

Charlie ignored him. “Just go away, Harriet, you bore me. And take Winslow with you.” She glanced at the frog she’d once imagined might be turned into a prince. “Dan, you go too.”

“Get in the truck, Charlie,” Dan said.

“No thanks. I’ll make alternate arrangements.”

“What are you afraid of, Charlie?” Dan asked softly.

What was she afraid of? Charlie refused to answer the question, unwilling to voice her fears, all of which had to do with living a lifetime without him. Dan. Her frogish, reluctant prince.

“Go away, all of you. And Winslow?”

He turned, his icy blue eyes meeting hers. “Yes?”

“When you leave, make sure you take Harriet with you.”

“Charlotte,” Harriet gasped. “I insist—”

“Insist away, Harriet, but I’m done listening. Trying to buy your approval by sacrificing my happiness just isn’t worth the price.”

“I—”

“Come on, Harriet.” Winslow took his former mother-in-law-to-be’s arm. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“But, Charlotte . . .” Harriet continued to protest as Winslow practically stuffed her into the car.

Charlie stood next to the semi and watched them go. As the car backed out of the driveway, she realized she had her cue. It was time for her to leave as well. Maybe she could forget this whole week ever took place.

She turned and drank in one last look at Dan. Her eyes locked with his smoky gray ones. No, she’d never be able to forget this week, or this man.

“Now, we’re going to talk,” he said softly.

Charlie tore her eyes away from him. “No.”

“What are you afraid of, Charlie?” he asked again.

“You,” she admitted to him, and to herself. “You have the power to hurt me, the power to cut me to ribbons. I can’t do it again, Dan. I just can’t take the chance.”

Dan moved toward her and grabbed her wrist. With his other hand he opened the semi’s door. “Come on, we’re going.”

Charlie planted her feet, but Dan merely scooped her up and tossed her up onto the driver’s seat.

“Move over,” he said as he climbed in after her.

She scrambled out of his way, unwilling to risk touching him, because if she touched him, she knew she’d never want to stop. Why? Because she loved the cantankerous, stubborn frog of a man.

Charlie thought about trying to escape out the passenger door but realized escaping from Dan was the last thing she really wanted to do. “Where are we going?” she asked as she settled into her seat.

“Gloria and I have decided to take you on a road trip.”

“Take me where, precisely?” she asked suspiciously.

“Anywhere you want.”

Where did she really want to go? Nowhere but Dan’s arms. Anywhere in Dan’s arms. “Where do you want to go?”

“I thought we’d hit some state that allows instant marriages without some long wait, because truth be told, I can’t wait.” His eyes were on the road as he backed the semi out of Con’s driveway.

Charlie wished he would look at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, what he wanted from her. “Marriage?”

“Marriage.” He stopped the truck at the end of the driveway and finally turned to her.

Charlie peered into those fathomless, unreadable gray eyes, but this time they were readable. His walls were down and all she could see in his eyes was love—love for her.

“I love you,” he said. “It took me long enough to admit it, but that doesn’t diminish just how powerful that love is. I love you.”

Those words were Christmas and Easter all rolled into one. Charlie suddenly knew just how Cinderella had felt when Prince Charming showed up at her door with her glass slipper in hand. Her frog was handing her a slipper, and Charlie knew for a fact it would fit like a glove. She didn’t care how many fairy tales she mangled.

Dan loved her.

“You didn’t really want to be a spinster, did you?” Dan asked.

“I like cats,” she hedged.

“I might not be as cute as a kitten, but do you think you could like me as much?”

“No.”

“No?” Dan’s teasing lilt had disappeared, and Charlie could see the wall start to go back up.

“No, I can’t just like you,” she said hurriedly. “I love you, you frog, though at the moment I can’t remember why.”

“Maybe the princess should try kissing me, and maybe she’ll remember.” He leaned across the cab and took her in his arms. “It was only one night, but I missed you,” he whispered as he leaned over and slowly brought his lips to hers.