Cinderella Screwed Me Over (Entangled Select)

by Cindi Madsen

  Jake had called me on his way into work this morning and insisted I let him make last night up to me. I told him there was no need—that I’d been the one who showed up unannounced. Not to mention I wasn’t sure how to deal with him anymore, knowing he was probably leaving for several months.

  “Just let me take you out already,” he’d said. So I’d agreed—I did want to see him, even though things were turning out differently than I’d wanted them to. In theory, I could still keep things light, and that was the smartest move right now, with his plans up in the air.

  Since he had to run documents to FedEx and I was going to be up north with Barbara, we’d decided to meet at Sparrow, this trendy, upscale restaurant Anthony and Stephanie had recommended.

  I’d been sitting in the restaurant for thirty minutes by myself, getting more annoyed by the minute. The battery in my cell had died, so I couldn’t even call Jake and ask where he was. Or if he was still coming.

  “It’s about time,” I said when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw not Jake, but my ex-boyfriend, Porter.

  Not just my ex. But THE ex.

  Also known as my relapse. All I could do for a moment was blink, blink, blink, sure he was a mirage.

  “I thought that was you.” Porter grabbed my hand and glided me into a hug.

  His signature Acqua Di Gio cologne surrounded me, his hand pressed into the small of my back, and I knew it wasn’t a mirage. I took a shaky breath, trying to recover from the shock of seeing him. “In town for a visit?”

  “Actually, I just moved back. New York wasn’t for me.” He looked me up and down and then his pale green eyes lit up as he flashed me a smile. “You look amazing.”

  It was impossible not to relive a dozen memories of back when we were together and he’d give me that exact same look, completely undoing me with such little effort. I swiped a piece of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. You look good, too.” As usual, his clothing was impeccable. Tonight he wore a fitted, striped button-down that probably cost more than I spent on groceries in a month.

  “There you are,” Jake said, coming around the table. “Did you get my message?”

  I lowered my eyebrows. “Message?”

  “I called to tell you I was running late.”

  “My phone’s dead.”

  Jake’s eyes flicked from me, to Porter, to Porter’s hand on my waist. Porter dropped it, and there were a couple of awkward seconds before I realized it was my job to make introductions. “Oh. Um. This is Porter. Porter, Jake. Jake owns Blue.”

  “The little place on Fifteenth you like to take all your clients to?” Porter asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  “It’s a great place,” he said to Jake, polite as ever. “I suppose I better get back to my party.” He gave me another quick hug. “It was good to see you again, Darby.”

  “Don’t tell me that was another one of your ex-boyfriends,” Jake said as he pulled my chair out for me.

  I was still a little irritated at him for being late, so I said, “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

  Jake sat across from me. “Man, they seem to be everywhere.”

  I looked at Jake, wondering how long it’d take before I was referring to him as an ex. Or if I even could refer to him as that, since we’d never used the boyfriend-girlfriend label. “You’re telling me.”

  Sleeping Beauty Case Study: Porter/Prince Phillip

  My Age: 28

  Prince Phillip, in my always right opinion, was the best prince. Sure, I’d be a little weirded out if a guy started singing about waiting to find his special someone in the woods, but that’s Disney for you. And at least he had good dance moves and a nice voice. Unlike several of the other princes, he had more than that as well. He was determined to marry a peasant girl instead of a princess, regardless of what his dad said, and the guy fought a dragon to get back to the girl he loved.

  You’ve got to admire a guy willing to fight for what he wants.

  After my almost engagement to Robert, I vowed never to fall again. I bought one of the condos that Robert had said would be too small to start a family in and dropped a large sum of money on a comfortable mattress. I came home exhausted, hit the soft bed, and slept until morning. On the weekends, I didn’t roll out of bed until noon. There was no point in getting up anyway. Steph and Anthony were in that can’t-stand-to-be-apart phase, leaving me to hang out with me, myself, and I.

  At least I had my job to keep me busy.

  Searching for the perfect pieces to go in Virginia Hammond’s newly remodeled living room, I popped into a furniture store in Greenwood Village. Opera music floated through the room, giving off an air of sophistication.

  I stared at a mock living room with aspen tree wallpaper for a good five minutes, trying to decide if it was the fake trees or the tree-trunk side tables I hated more.

  Why am I staring at this stuff? I need to find a couch to match Virginia’s room, not a woodland area.

  As I turned to see what else the store had, I brushed against someone. “Sorry,” I said, looking up at the guy I’d run into. He had short, sandy-colored hair and a dimpled chin. His style was impeccable—dark suit that fit perfectly, black silk tie. His whole look screamed business and money, and he made it look good.

  “What do you think about that couch?” he asked, pointing at a shiny black leather sectional.

  “Looks slippery and will forever have a dead cowhide smell. If you want that whole bachelor pad look, then that’s the way to go. Why guys all love black leather, I’ll never quite know.”

  “Not a fan of black leather, huh?” His deep, rich voice held a touch of humor.

  “Not especially. I like a couch that I can cuddle up on without having to unstick myself every time the room gets above seventy degrees. There’s a couch over there…” I pointed to the next “room” over. “Black, still very masculine, and much more comfortable.”

  He cocked his head and studied me. “You know, you look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

  If you think that line’s going to work on me, you’re dreaming. Even if you are very attractive. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure we haven’t met before?” His eyebrows lowered as he stared at me. “Where do you work?”

  He sounded genuine enough that I started to think it wasn’t a line, but I would’ve remembered meeting a guy who looked like he did. “I work as an interior designer for Metamorphosis Interior Designs.”

  “So you pick out furniture for other people?” One corner of his mouth twisted up. “Even if what they want smells like dead cow?”

  “If that’s what they want. Then I just silently judge them while I decorate.”

  He laughed, and his smile lit up his pale green eyes. “Well, I’m sick of trying to decorate my place. Maybe I should hire you.”

  “Maybe you should.” I’d thrown it out there, but I hadn’t expected him to actually consider it. Something about the guy unsettled me in a hard-to-place way. It wasn’t a scary feeling, but a kind of magnetic pull that made me feel like I should run and move closer at the same time. I pulled a card out of my purse and handed it to him, more to have something to do than anything else. The way he was looking at me had my heart beating faster and faster and I couldn’t have that. I’d sworn off men.

  “I better get back to work.” I shot him a quick smile, then continued my search through the store.

  Two days later, Porter Montgomery called and hired me to redecorate his place.

  “I figured out where I saw you,” Porter said when I showed up at his house to see what the job was going to entail. “The Building Hope dinner. At the time, you were with someone else.” He leaned against the door frame, his eyes locked on mine. “Are you still with him?”

  I’d attended that dinner with Robert. The old scars from that relationship rose up, making my chest constrict. “I’m not with anyone right now.”

  “So, how about you and me—”

  “Let’s ha
ve a look around and get started on your place,” I said, stepping past him and into the expansive entry.

  Over the course of the next few months, I redid every room in his giant four-bedroom house. He constantly flirted with me; I remained professional. After all, I didn’t believe in love or relationships anymore.

  But occasionally I slipped with Porter, getting drawn into conversations with him that felt like only minutes but lasted an hour. Once it was about classic cars. Then an interesting art piece he’d gotten in Italy. He’d visited countries I’d always dreamed of going to, and he had all these pictures and stories—the way he told them made me feel like I was there. He always asked questions about my hobbies and opinions, and he really listened when I talked.

  There was this crazy chemistry between us, like the air was charged every time we were in the same room. But whenever he brought up doing anything together outside of decorating, I brushed him off and got back to work.

  Then he sent me flowers, with a note insisting I let him take me to dinner. I told him I didn’t date clients. He let it go after that, and I volleyed between relief and disappointment.

  The job ended, we settled the account, and I went on my way.

  A week later, he called and told me I had no excuse to not go out with him anymore. I caved—I couldn’t help it. I tried to keep things light, but Porter didn’t believe in light. He threw himself into whatever he did, whether it was his work, sports—he liked lacrosse—or being with me. We attended functions, dined at nice restaurants, and spent time strolling around downtown. We had a blast when we went out, and our time in was even better. If he was going to have late meetings, he’d join me for lunch at Blue so we wouldn’t have to go days without seeing each other.

  Porter had money and liked to have fun like Charlie, only he had ambition and talked respectfully about women. He was everything Robert was, in that he was kind and driven, only he got how much I loved my job and talked about it like it was important. Basically, he had all the best qualities of every guy I’d ever dated, without any flaws. On top of all that, he got me in a way no one else ever had.

  After two months of dating, he told me he loved me. It took me another month to be able to say it back.

  When the dragon tried to step in and ruin things, he slayed her.

  Okay, I suppose calling his mother a dragon is a little unfair. The woman actually blew smoke out of her nostrils, though. Instead of smoking “poor people” cigarettes, she smoked Fantasia Lights. They had gold filter tips and came in a rainbow of colors.

  At one of the Montgomery parties, while Eleanor Montgomery was puffing away on a cigarette, Porter escorted me over to say hi to her—despite my objections. I already knew she didn’t like me, even though Porter claimed it wasn’t true.

  Eleanor turned to me, and if her face hadn’t been filled with so much Botox, I’m sure she would’ve scowled. She looked from me to Porter. “Darling, I thought you were bringing Catherine tonight.”

  Porter put his arm around me. “Why would I bring her, when I have a lovely girlfriend to come with me?”

  “As we discussed over the phone, I’d hate for Darby to be uncomfortable…”

  The way you’re discussing me as if I’m not here is making me uncomfortable.

  Eleanor took another drag on her cigarette. “It’s just that most people here went to Ivy League colleges. I’m not sure that art school’s prepared Darby for the topics discussed at this party.” She glanced at me. “Nothing personal, dear, but we’ve got to keep good relations with all of our friends. We tend to stick together in a tight-knit group and they might not accept you like…Porter has.” Smoke filled the air around us. “I’d hate for anyone to insinuate you’re with him because of his financial status.”

  “That’s enough,” Porter said, stepping closer to his mother, his voice low. “You can either be nice to Darby, or we’ll leave.”

  Her hand shot to her chest. “I’m being nice, I just—”

  Porter grabbed my hand. “Good-bye, Mother. Give everyone my regards.” With that, he and I left the stuffy party.

  Porter’s standing up to his mother, especially since it was in my defense, impressed me. I was so impressed, I decided it was time to take him to the ranch to meet my family. Porter owned a business empire. He came from old money. I worried that he, Drew, and Devin wouldn’t mesh very well. I warned Porter about my brothers, warned my brothers about the way Porter was, and threatened them to all be nice to each other.

  Porter didn’t do very well with the whole tour-the-ranch thing, but he was a better sport about it than Robert. He didn’t have anything in common with my family besides me, but he tried. He invited them to the city and took them to dinner. He informed his mother she could accept me or deal with not seeing him as much, so she and I learned to tolerate each other. It wasn’t perfect, but we worked at it.

  One night when we were talking about our childhoods, Porter asked about my father. Dad was one of those subjects that made an achy, raw feeling form over my heart, and I didn’t like talking about him. But when Porter wrapped his arms around me, I finally did it—I dropped all my walls. I told him how it hurt that my dad didn’t try to spend more time with me when I was younger or even now, and how I missed him all the same.

  After talking it through with Porter, he convinced me to reach out to my dad, telling me that he’d be there for me if it went badly. Because of him giving me that nudge, I started talking to my dad more and more. For Thanksgiving that year, Porter surprised me by flying Dad and his wife in so we could be together. I think I spent most of the day crying.

  Week after week passed and things just kept getting better. While I hadn’t moved into his place, I stayed there most nights and had a whole closet set aside just for me. He worked crazy hours sometimes, but he’d bring his laptop to bed and occasionally reach out and squeeze my hand or kiss my cheek, just to show me he was glad I was there.

  Life was perfect, and I felt my abandonment issues melting away and my faith in love returning. Something whispered to me, This is it. He’s the one.

  Then Porter hit me with his “great news.”

  “My company’s merging with another,” he said one night over a candlelit dinner. “It’s a great opportunity, and I think it’s going to be great for business. There’s just one thing…I’ve got to move to New York to oversee it.”

  Who knows, maybe after Sleeping Beauty and Prince Phillip got together, he informed her that he needed to go settle another kingdom. Maybe that’s the part of the story they decided was best not to show.

  All I could do was stare across the table at Porter, feeling betrayed that he’d leave me after everything we’d been through. My heart started to crack; my perfect world crumbled around me.

  “I was thinking, though…” Porter scooted forward and put his hand over mine. “You could go with me. We can try out living together. See what happens.”

  Try it out? See what happens? Thoughts swam through my head, too many to focus on at once and not a single solid one to grab hold of. Finally they started separating, the more logical pushing past the oh-holy-crap ones.

  “What about my job?” I asked. “My family? My place that I just bought. They’re all here.”

  “Baby, I know it’s not ideal, but I have to go.” He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “The past six months with you have been amazing. I’ll take care of everything until you find a job—I know you love what you do, and I’m sure you can find something similar there. Just think about it.”

  I continued to stare, still trying to put it all together. After being hesitant for most of our relationship, I’d finally gone all in—or at least I thought I had. But this was big. Bigger than big. And I was tempted to say, Let’s do it! But I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things that could go wrong. What would I do if I got to New York and he changed his mind? Panic wound up, suffocating me one slow inch at a time. What if he was busy all the time and I was alone without my family and friends?
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br />   I took a few days to think about it, unable to sleep or eat much, all my old insecurities flaring up until I was a nervous wreck. I kept thinking that maybe if we’d been together a little longer, I’d be sure. If we’d already tried living together and knew we could make it work. But all the huge changes at once felt like too much.

  So in the end, I told him I couldn’t go, trying to hide that my heart was breaking, one tiny shard at a time, until I was sure nothing was left.

  Aurora, renamed Briar Rose, stumbled across her true love in the woods. If I tried that method, I’d probably run into a bear and become his lunch. But no, she made me think it was as simple as a lucky encounter, a duet with words you and the guy just knew, and a nice long nap that ended with a magical kiss.

  Sleeping Beauty obviously had some poor decision-making skills. I mean, some lady in horns shows up and you go ahead and do whatever she says? Only I can’t really talk now, can I? I knew I was going to get hurt, yet I’d still stretched out my hand and was surprised when I ended up on the floor with a broken heart.

  After Porter left, I renewed my vow to NEVER let myself fall in love again.

  Time Wasted: Six months with him. A few months wondering if I should’ve moved to New York and tried to make it work. Several nights re-reviewing all my case files.

  Lessons Learned:

  The good guys always move away and leave me behind.

  If something seems too good to be true, it is.

  Love never lasts. L STOP TRYING ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!

  Chapter Thirty

  “Are you mad?” Jake asked when we got to my door.

  After eating dinner at Sparrow, we’d driven back in our separate cars. I’d wanted to just go home and be done with today, but he’d insisted on walking me to my door.

  I turned to face him. “You like that I’m honest, right?”

  Jake’s shoulders sagged. “That means yes.”

  “I told you that you didn’t need to make anything up to me, but you insisted we go out. Then you were late. And after you finally showed up, you spent the entire time on the phone. If I wanted to eat dinner by myself, I would’ve stayed home where I’d at least have the TV to keep me company.”