PAR FOR CINDERELLA

by MCCARTY, PETIE

  “Thank you, Ms. Crawford,” he said, uneasy that she’d read his mind.

  She waved her cane, and he resisted the urge to throw up a protective arm. “I told you at the closing to call me Belle.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Why you don’t want anyone to know who you are is easy to figure out. They would all hate you.”

  Aidan winced. “Yes, and you never told me folks around here would resent an outsider so much.”

  The cane made a spiral aim toward the aisle. “You should have done your homework, young man. And it’s not the outsider they will resent. The new golf course is what they will hate.”

  “Because of Frank and Casey.”

  She gave him a smug smile. “Exactly. Everyone in Cypress Key loves the Stuarts. Everyone, but the Bartows.”

  “And you’re keeping my secret because you don’t want anyone in town to know you sold your land to a golf course developer,” he surmised.

  “Partly.”

  “So, why sell to me, knowing my golf course may put the Stuarts’ course out of business? Do you want Frank’s course to go bankrupt?” Belle didn’t need to know his plans for Stuart’s course just yet.

  “Don’t be silly,” she scoffed. “I sold my property to you, so you would find out what on earth is going on around here, and what that snake Archer Bartow is up to.”

  Aidan stared, dumbfounded. Couldn’t help himself. “What about all your schmoozing at the closing? About you wanting a five-star resort and a really good golf course here to put Cypress Key on the map?”

  She shot him a devilish grin. “I lied.”

  Aidan burst out laughing. He had liked Belle the minute he’d met her. His business instincts claimed her to be good people. Her blunt, forthright manner had intrigued him with her first phone call to inquire if he might like a parcel of land perfect for a golf course on the west coast of Florida. A golf-resort developer’s dream. That perfect part was definitely a stretch about her land, but Aidan intended to make it perfect.

  A waitress approached the table. “Ready to order?” She eyed both Belle and Aidan.

  “Have dinner with me?” he asked Belle.

  “Love to. Not often I get an offer like that from a hunk like you.”

  Not many women could make Aidan Cross blush, but Belle Crawford just did. The waitress reeled off the soup of the day and the specials, and they both ordered the pot roast on Belle’s recommendation.

  “Here I was afraid Archer had spoiled my dinner,” Belle said, when their waitress headed back to the kitchen.

  “What was all that arguing about, if you don’t mind my asking? I could hear you two all the way over here.”

  “Oh, that?” Belle waved a hand. “Archer is rabid to buy my airport property and mad that I won’t sell.”

  Aidan lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Don’t you mean my airport property?”

  She grinned. “Why, yes, I do.”

  Aidan hooted. “You know, he deserves to have you string him along.”

  “That’s what I thought. I want to know what that snake is up to.”

  “Back to the part where you lied about wanting a five-star resort and championship golf course here. Any particular reason?”

  “Casey’s mother and I were dear friends,” Belle confessed, “even though I was much older.”

  This woman was full of surprises today.

  “Sally and I both loved gardening and growing flowers,” she went on. “We even started the Cypress Key Garden Club.” Her eyes grew moist with unshed tears. “I still miss her. Every day.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your friend,” he said and meant it, especially since Casey had also lost her mother.

  “When Sally fell ill, I promised her I’d look after Dave and Casey.” She gazed out the window. “After Dave died, I had to watch over Frank and Casey. Those two make it far more difficult though, neither one willing to take anything that smells like charity,” she groused. “I take them out to eat or have them over a couple times a month for dinner, and let them both know I’m available for low- or no-interest loans. But they will never take me up on my offer.”

  “You’re a good woman, Belle Crawford.”

  She waved him off, thankfully without her cane.

  “Archer Bartow has been after Frank’s golf course for a few years now, and lately, he’s gotten even more pushy. I knew I had to do something.”

  “So, you called me,” Aidan finished.

  She nodded.

  “Okay, what’s Bartow up to?”

  Belle frowned. “What’s he up to, or what can I prove?”

  “What can you prove?”

  “Nothing much, other than a bad feeling this is more than Archer wanting to own more of this town. Plus, he controls Jerry Sanders and by default, which bank loans get extended.” She grimaced. “If he has to pull rank, Archer can even get the bank president to dance to his tune and refuse loans.”

  “I got that much from Neal Riley,” Aidan admitted. “And it’s hard for small, barely-making-it businesses in a tiny town to get business loans in a big city where they’re a virtual unknown.”

  “Exactly. And I refuse to let Archer get his mitts on Frank’s course or take the chance he’d bribe folks at City hall to condemn my, um, your airstrip property for the ‘public good.’” She crimped her fingers to make quotation marks around the last words. “He would claim the public good to be more of his housing developments to attract new residents.”

  “You really think Bartow would have tried something that crazy?”

  “When you are the mayor of a tiny town and you own the sheriff, the judge, the chief building official, the bank, and a quorum of councilmen, there’s not a whole lot you won’t try.”

  “I don’t like putting one of my resorts into an arena that corrupt,” Aidan said grimly.

  “Which is why you have to stay and fix things!” Belle exclaimed, and heads turned.

  “Easy,” Aidan soothed. “You’re not supposed to know me. Remember?”

  Belle exhaled hard. “Right. So . . . will you fix things?”

  “I’ll do my best. Otherwise, I won’t bring my resort here.”

  “Son, I’ve lived in Cypress Key since my dear Henry brought me here as a bride of three days. Henry lived here his whole life, and his daddy and his daddy’s daddy. There’s not a whole lot I don’t know about the residents of Cypress Key. Anything you need to know, just ask. If I don’t know, I’ll dig it up.”

  “I do have one question. Why did Henry build a private airstrip with no flight service? No fuel, no mechanic, nothing.”

  Her eyes glistened again. “The strip was just for him and his friends who came to visit. The large hangar houses Henry’s three planes.”

  “I wondered. What will you do with the planes?”

  Belle sighed. “Sell them, I guess. I appreciate you letting me keep them there until you develop the property.”

  “Let me know when you’re ready,” Aidan offered gently. “I’ll help you find buyers.”

  She reached out and put a hand to his cheek. “You are a dear boy, and I’m sure glad I lured you to Cypress Key. Now, I have a question for you. What does Casey think of you?”

  The waitress took that moment to show up with their dinners. By the time she left, he had a response ready.

  “Casey likes to boss me around.” He grinned, but it quickly faded. “She just wants to be friends since I’ll only be around until my hearing.”

  Belle stared at him for a good long while. “It’s got nothing to do with your hearing, and we both know you’ll be around here long after that.”

  “Right, but—”

  Belle burst out laughing. “That’s my Casey. She’s a handful. It doesn’t help th
at you’re a hunk. She hates them.”

  Aidan swallowed his bite of pot roast and set down his fork. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You have to know you’re a hunk. You stare in the mirror every morning when you shave.”

  “Okaaay,” he said slowly. “But why does she—”

  “Hate hunks? She thinks they’re untrustworthy. They always take off . . . eventually. She will never trust a handsome guy. Ever. And you certainly fit the bill.”

  Aidan ignored the left-handed compliment. “But how did she form that opinion?”

  “She bases her illogical judgment on three separate hunks—handsome-as-sin guys, actually—but there you have it.” She turned her palms out, then forked up more pot roast.

  He scowled. “What three guys and why?”

  “Well, there was PJ Bartow who stood her up for the prom at the very last minute and took someone else. Then there was a handsome college boy she met one summer, and years later, there was a vendor who sold her uncle grass seed. All three guys kissed up to her, acted like they cared, and then deserted her.”

  “PJ Bartow is no hunk,” Aidan growled, not that he considered himself any kind of expert.

  “Not now,” Belle allowed and daintily sipped her iced tea. “But all the girls thought he was hot in high school. Gone a bit to seed now.”

  Aidan almost smiled.

  “It wasn’t so much standing her up that made Casey mad, as it was him going to prom anyway and taking another girl. Joke was on him though.” Belle chuckled. “He ended up having to marry the other girl—Melissa’s her name—when she claimed to be pregnant, which she wasn’t. Later she cheated on PJ. Now they’re divorced, and he wants another chance at Casey.”

  “Casey’s not fool enough . . .”

  Belle waved a hand. “Of course, she’s not, but PJ has been rather aggressive.”

  “And the other two?”

  Not his business, but his gut begged to know, and Aidan refused to ponder why that was.

  “She dated a college boy visiting his grandmother one summer. The boy led Casey to believe thy would get engaged at Christmas. Instead, he went back home and got engaged to the girl he had never broken up with, though he told Casey he had. He wrote her a letter to explain everything, even told Casey to be happy for him.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Yes.” Belle grinned at him.

  “What?”

  “I just like that you’re angry on her behalf. You care about Casey.”

  “I don’t— What about the vendor?”

  “Oh, him.” She sighed heavily. “He turned out to be married.”

  “Damn.”

  “So you see? Three guys. All lied.”

  “No wonder she doesn’t trust—”

  “Hunks? Handsome guys? Eye candy?” Belle helpfully filled in. “You could change all that.”

  Aidan grimaced. “No, I couldn’t.”

  But his mind flew back to the scene on the golf course that afternoon—PJ pawing at Casey—and Aidan felt that protective surge welling up in his chest, so tight it was hard to breathe. He was out of his league with that little slip of a girl. She twisted him into too many knots, knots he would never untie.

  “No,” he repeated. “Casey clearly drew a line in the sand today. She only wants to be friends. My hands are tied.” Along with those knots in my guts.

  Belle set down her knife and fork. “Maybe you aren’t the right man for the job. Especially if you give up so easy.”

  Aidan felt the frown form. Couldn’t smooth it out though he tried.

  “I had you pegged for a fighter. For Casey. For this town.”

  He stiffened. “I’m not looking to—”

  Belle leaned across the table. Kept her voice low. “I checked you out before I called you, Aidan Cross with an e. And you know what I found out? You fix things. It’s your gift, what you’re good at. So, fix this town. And fix . . . you.”

  “Me?”

  Belle Crawford daintily wiped her mouth, laid her napkin next to her plate, and rose to her feet, cane in hand. “Thank you for a lovely dinner, dear.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Casey bobbled the dinner plate Frank had just rinsed and handed her. The plate bounced once on the open dishwasher door, and she managed to grab it before the plate hit the floor.

  “What’s got into you tonight?” Frank wanted to know. “You dropped a glass a few minutes ago too, and I had to make a Jose Canseco catch on the basket of rolls at dinner.”

  “Nothing’s got into me.”

  Frank stopped rinsing and waited.

  “I just think it’s stupid for him to spend money at the diner when his dinner here is free. That’s all.”

  “You mean Aidan.”

  She glared. “Of course, I mean Aidan.”

  “Then I agree with you. But I’m not dropping dishes over it.” He didn’t move.

  Casey ground her teeth together. She refused to talk about it. Or rather, him. Frank had been doing this since he first came to take care of her when her father died. Her uncle always knew when something bothered her, and he’d just stare and wait her out until she confessed her troubles. Well, not this time. Hell could freeze first with flying pigs overhead.

  “Come on, we need to finish the dishes,” she prodded.

  “No, we don’t.” His soapy palms rested on the counter edge, and his head turned to her.

  Don’t look at his eyes. You’ll crack.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted.

  “Just an observation, but it seems to me that Aidan wanted to put some distance between the two of you tonight.”

  Frank would bait her until she gave in, and just like now, he always managed to squarely hit her sore spot. No way would she let him know how much his comment hurt. Aidan was putting distance between them, and it was her own fault. She’d told him she just wanted to be friends. Practically ordered him to keep his distance. She just hadn’t realized how much that would hurt.

  She missed him. Already. And he’d only been gone a couple hours, for crying out loud.

  Her phone rang and saved her from blurting all her hurts to Frank.

  “Hello?”

  “Casey, it’s Janie.”

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  Janie Derlin and Casey had been best friends all through high school. Janie must be at work, judging from the noise in the background. She worked as a waitress at a local seafood bar, the Sand Dollar Tavern.

  “For starters, how come I haven’t heard from you in almost a week?” her friend complained.

  Casey winced. “It’s only been a few days.”

  The same few days that Aidan had been in town and taken over her life? A painful reminder she was ridiculous to care for a guy after only a few days.

  “And how come I have to hear from Big Louie that you almost drowned?”

  “I didn’t almost drown—”

  “And how come you didn’t call me immediately to tell me the handsomest man on earth saved you from almost drowning?”

  “I didn’t almost— Wait! Big Louie told you that?”

  She heard Janie’s snort through the phone. “Of course not. I heard that from Angie Hansen who had dinner in here last night. I was off work, but I understand Tall, Built, and Handsome came in and had a beer last night.”

  Her friend really sounded put out or rather, left out. “I’m sorry, Janie. Things have been crazy around here since Aidan moved in. I was going to call you. I swear.”

  “Aidan, is it? So what’s the story? Do you like this Aidan or not? I mean, he is staying at your house and all. Because if you’re not interested, I sure am. That guy is sexier and hotter than Chris Hemsworth in a speedo.”

  Casey bristled at that comme
nt. She hated the idea of Janie or any woman eyeing Aidan as potential boyfriend material, but if she admitted her feelings, Aidan would no longer be her safe, secret crush that no one knew about. No danger of her being pitied—again—if desertion occurred as the eventual finale. No one would know Casey Stuart had been dumped again, because she didn’t play where it was safe, just like with the other guys she had allowed herself to care about.

  “Are you, or aren’t you?” Janie wanted to know.

  Casey bit her lower lip. She had never kept anything from Janie. Even her man troubles. Heck, especially her man troubles. Janie knew all about PJ—her friend couldn’t stand him either—and Ross, her summer college love, and her big mistake, married Danny. So, why didn’t she blurt everything about Aidan?

  Because he was different from the rest.

  Special.

  Much as she hated to admit it.

  Real special.

  Few days or not. Her heart had engaged on contact, and she didn’t know how to pull free of the man’s orbit.

  She didn’t want to ask how Janie found out where Aidan was staying. Cypress Key was a small town. She should’ve known everyone already knew and had thoroughly discussed the situation. Casey winced again. Janie should have been the first to know, not the last. She was probably hurt in addition to being angry, and Casey owed her something.

  “I-I do like him, Janie, but I-I shouldn’t. He’s only here a month until . . .”

  His hearing. More information Janie probably knew but hadn’t heard from Casey.

  “That’s why I’m calling, girlfriend. If you like the guy, you better get your butt down here. Aidan’s at the bar having a beer, and Deedee Bartow is trying to crawl into his pants. If you didn’t want him, I was going to rescue the guy myself.”

  Chapter 12

  When Maisey’s waitress reappeared at Aidan’s table to ask if he had finished his meal, he glanced down and was surprised to find an empty plate. His mind had tumbled around with the information Belle had supplied. Finding out Casey had seriously cared for two guys bothered him more than he cared to admit. He knew she never really cared for PJ. She’d shared that story herself. But she’d had a summer love and an affair with a married man. Aidan was probably jumping to assumptions about the affair part. Belle never said how soon Casey had figured out the creep was married.