Fairy Tale Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories

by Lisa Scott

  “Enjoy it. Remember, it all ends a week from now midnight, so make the most of it. Now where are we going first?”

  ***

  She collapsed in bed at four in the morning. They’d gone dancing at several different nightclubs, and she ended the night walking along the river, recounting the evening’s adventures for the camera. As she slid out of her dress, she realized her feet should be killing her. But they felt fine. These shoes truly were meant for her. She climbed into bed in her nightgown, still wearing the shoes.

  In the morning, she woke to piles of gifts in the sitting room of her suite. Bottles of perfume and pricey makeup she’d only dreamed of owning were stacked on the coffee table. Bags and boxes covered most of the floor. It was better than a lifetime of birthday presents all waiting in one big pile in her hotel room. She knocked on Henry’s door next to hers. “What’s all that stuff in my room?” she asked when he opened the door.

  “Swag, baby.” He grinned, and her stomach flipped. “And it’s only just begun. The deliveries keep coming in. Designers everywhere are hoping you’ll wear their clothes or jewelry and be photographed in it. It’s super advertising for them.

  “And I get to keep it all?”

  He nodded. “And it’s only day one.” He pulled a key out of his pocket. “Oh, and a year-long lease from Cadillac.” He tossed her the set of keys.

  She was too stunned to speak. Everything she’d ever wanted was literally at her feet—and on her feet. All of the goodies she ogled in magazines and on TV. Well, everything except that pony of hers. If she weren’t so shocked, she’d scream.

  He handed her a sheet of paper. “Here are some possibilities for you today.” It was an itinerary with potential locations to visit: museums, art galleries, trendy restaurants, and stores. Lots of stores.

  They started off with breakfast down the street, Cindi’s new discreet belt camera, smaller than a stopwatch, taping her feet as she walked. She ordered the most expensive breakfast she’d ever had, and Henry took a moment to tape her drinking a mimosa. “Cheers!” she said, raising it in the air.

  Then he set his camera down. “That should be enough for a while.”

  “So, you’re going to be with me the whole week?”

  He set down his drink. “Is that a problem?”

  “No, no. It just seems like a lot to ask of you. I mean, someone in your life’s got to be upset about this. You relocated to the hotel for a week.”

  He forced a smile. “I haven’t had a girlfriend in a while, if that’s what you mean. I’ve got a lot of responsibilities. No time for that sort of thing. And this is going to launch me to a new level. Thanks so much for this fabulous idea and for being such a good sport.”

  She took another sip of her drink. “A good sport? You’re paying to show me the time of my life this week—and you didn’t give me a hard time about taking off with your shoe. Why didn’t you think I stole it? Bruno did.”

  “I just had a feeling you were a good person.”

  She looked down at her half eaten crepes and smiled.

  It was a bit surprising when Henry asked for a to-go bag for the leftover muffins and rolls. Maybe he had low blood sugar and needed a snack for later? Who knew? But later, she saw him slip the bag to a homeless man as they waited to cross the street.

  Her throat was too tight for her to say anything, so she looked away, touched by the unexpected gesture. Henry was more than just a handsome, successful guy, and she couldn’t wait to find out more. But first, the journey of the shoes beckoned.

  They did some shopping after breakfast, and Cindi was stunned people knew who she was. Some even asked for her autograph and wanted to pose for pictures. She signed the backs of receipts and slips of paper as “The Girl In The Crystal Shoes.”

  “How do they know who I am?” she asked, after they left a jewelry store.

  He grinned and held out his arm for her. “Not too many people are walking around New Royalton in crystal shoes being followed by a camera.”

  “True.”

  It was an exhausting day, but it flew by. When she finally got back to the hotel after dinner, she kicked off her shoes. “A little distance will make the heart grow fonder,” she told Henry.

  “Get your beauty sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her.

  ***

  Henry wasn’t sure who was having more fun—him or Cindi. They strolled through museums together, stopping for another fabulous lunch the next day. Cindi was thoughtful, smart, and funny. She must have spotted him passing out leftover rolls to the homeless, because after breakfast, she did the same thing, without saying a word. He’d never been so touched by a woman’s gesture. Most of his dates ignored his interactions with the homeless, or scolded him for it.

  But then again, Cindi wasn’t his date. Unfortunately.

  During lunch, his phone rang, and he grimaced when he looked at the caller ID. He hated disappointing his mother but there was no way he could visit this week and let her find out about this over-the-top shoe promotion. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Henry, aren’t you coming to see me?”

  “Sorry, I can’t right now. I’m totally wrapped up with work. Do you need anything? I could have something delivered for you. Whatever you need, just let me know.”

  “No, no. I’m fine. I look forward to our visits, is all. I get lonely, you know.”

  Did she give his brother this guilt trip? His brother probably didn’t even call.

  “Next week, Mother. We’ll go out for lunch, it’ll be great.”

  She sighed. “Alright then. Take care, Henry.”

  He hung up, his good mood disappearing, and tucked away his phone. “I try to visit my mother once a week. She lives outside the city, about an hour away. It’s impossible this week.”

  Cindi lifted a shoulder and smiled. “I wouldn’t mind if we went to visit her.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think people would enjoy watching you cavort about with my seventy-year-old mother. They’re looking for something a little more exciting from you and the shoes.”

  “But I hate keeping you from your mom.”

  He drummed his fingers on the table and leaned forward, deciding she deserved an explanation. “My mother knows I work in marketing for a shoe company, but she doesn’t know they’re high-end designer shoes. I’d be too embarrassed to have her know I help peddle six hundred dollar shoes.”

  Cindi stirred her drink with the red cocktail straw. “I think she’d be proud you work for such a well known company. Why would she care how much the shoes cost?”

  Sighing, he looked down. “We didn’t have much money growing up. Six hundred dollars would have kept our cupboards filled for months. I think she’d feel bad, seeing the way I live now compared to how we grew up. I’m a bit embarrassed by some of the excess in my life.” He had a posh apartment, a nice car, and while his cupboards were often bare, it was only because he usually ate out.

  Cindi nodded and pointed her straw at him. “I see where you’re coming from. If my father were still alive, he’d cringe at how I live now, scratching to get by. I grew up rich. When he died, my stepmother decided I wasn’t worth spending money on. Of course, she and her daughters always have the best. That’s why I’ve never had a pair of Jiminies.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I knew I didn’t like her. Thankfully, you’re nothing like her.”

  She shrugged. “Well, we do both like nice shoes.” And that was as far as the similarities went.

  “My mother would say it was a complete waste if she knew how much Jiminies cost.” He shook his head. “I think she’d be disappointed in me. I’m sure she wishes one of her sons went on to do something important, something that helps people. But neither of us did. My brother’s in a band, traveling the world. I’ve never been out of this country.”

  “Why not?”

  “I need to be close. I can’t leave her alone.”

  “She told you that?”

  He was shocked he was telling her so m
uch, but Cindi really seemed like she cared. It was so easy to let all the hurts of the past tumble out. He shifted in his seat. “I’m protective of her. When we were poor and struggling to make ends meet, I felt so useless. There was nothing I could do to put food on the table.” He realized his voice had gotten low and quiet.

  “You were just a kid,” she said, with tenderness in her voice.

  He ran his thumb along the condensation on his glass. “But I was the oldest. I felt responsible. Sometimes, I’d bring home leftover treats from school if we’d had a party or something just to get some food in the house.” He couldn’t look up at her. The shame was still there. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do now to make it up to her. I just try to be there for her.” Why did this woman make him feel so safe?

  She reached her hand across the table to him and squeezed the tips of his fingers. “You never know, Henry. Maybe after all these years she’d love a pair of fancy shoes. She deserves it.”

  Maybe. But he wasn’t ready to tell her yet exactly what he did. And as much as he wanted Cindi all to himself the rest of the week, he realized her adventure needed to get more exciting than just hanging out with him and visiting his mother. As wonderful as it was being around her, it also scared him like hell.

  ***

  She woke the next morning to more gifts. She had enough designer handbags to use a new one every week for a year. If she couldn’t find a job, she could certainly raise some cash selling this stuff on eBay.

  She unwrapped a beautiful necklace and sighed. Would she have been surrounded by this kind of luxury all her life if her father hadn’t died? Would she even have appreciated it? Or would she have become like Gloria, expecting her every whim to be fulfilled?

  Setting the necklace aside, she wondered why she wasn’t as delighted as she thought she’d be, surrounded by all the items on her dream list.

  There was a knock on her door. “It’s Henry.”

  She popped up and let him in, forgetting about the baubles at her feet. Her mood improved immediately seeing him standing there. “Hi! ”

  He clapped his hands together. “I decided we need to make things more interesting. I’m a boring escort.”

  She flopped on the sofa in the sitting room. “No, you’re perfect.”

  He shook his head. I contacted a few celebrities interested in spending some time with the girl in the crystal shoes.”

  “Celebrities? Who?”

  “A few singers. Some actors. Everybody wants to hop on the publicity train. But it’ll make good highlight clips for us. People don’t want to see you hanging out with PR dude from Jiminy shoes. Not when you could be on the arm of an A-lister.” He rattled off the names of some very attractive, famous men.

  She should be smiling. But hearing your crush read a list of potential dates was a definite buzz kill.

  “Do any of them sound good to you?”

  No. She wanted more time with him. But clearly he didn’t feel the same way if he was so willing to set her up. She had to remember this was just a PR stunt. So, she’d play along as she’d promised.

  She looked over his list. Reviewing their names in her head, no one jumped out at her. This job would be perfect for Gloria, who memorized the pages of People like there was going to be a test. Especially when it came to one guy in particular. A wicked grin spread across her face. Perhaps her stepmother’s evil was contagious.

  “How about Dirk Jackson?” she offered innocently. She couldn’t help smirking, as she imagined Gloria’s beady eyes narrowing in anger.

  He paused. “That was a quick decision. Okay. I’ll set it up.”

  ***

  That punk ass good for nothing Oscar nominee Dirk Jackson was way too close to Cindi as they walked down the street, the paparazzi following them. He even had the nerve to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear; the very same ear Henry longed to nuzzle and nibble. And the way she smiled up at Dirk hurt worse than a punch to Henry’s gut. He was shocked by his reaction. He’d never felt possessive like this over a woman, and certainly not over a woman who wasn’t even his.

  He tried to find a bad angle from which to shoot Dirk, but there was no such thing as a bad angle of Dirk. He clenched a fist, but reminded himself to calm down. Cindi had been smiling like a fool ever since she’d announced Dirk was the one she wanted. She was enjoying this. This was her week, and it made for good buzz in the press.

  And the best part? This was all his fault. He’d suggested this setup, and the boss had loved it.

  ***

  Cindi had done a lot of fake smiling this week. She certainly was having the time of her life, but she was probably the only woman on the planet who could hang out with Dirk Jackson for a few days and not fall in lust. He was gorgeous, of course, and a total gentleman, but she’d liked this whole thing better when it was just her and Henry.

  But why torment herself when Henry wasn’t interested? He’d admitted his life was all business right now. He’d even cancelled plans with his mother. The man had no time for a personal life. Even so, sometimes, when Dirk was talking to her, she’d find herself sneaking a peek at Henry.

  They were out for dinner Thursday night, when Henry dashed off to the restroom. She watched him go, trying to decide if he was six foot one or six foot two.

  Dirk turned to her. “You’re not really into this, are you?”

  She blinked and stammered and basically cranked up her awkward quotient by a thousand. How does a girl answer that question?

  He shook his head. “I have women jumping out of the closet in my hotel rooms to get near me. But you?” He just smiled at her, and lifted a shoulder. “I know. It’s him, right?”

  “Henry?” She laughed. “No, no, no. Henry? No. He’s not looking for a relationship.”

  He raised one of his thick, trademark eyebrows. “That doesn’t mean you’re not.”

  Her lips wobbled like she was a fish out of water; which is exactly how she felt about this whole thing. “Last time I checked, it takes two.”

  “But, you’re okay with us hanging out? I’ll be totally honest and tell you it’s for the publicity. You know that, right?”

  She nodded.

  “When Jiminy pitched the idea, my manager insisted. Ticket sales at my last movie weren’t great, and he’s still miffed I took that bad boy role when I should be concentrating on the romantic leads.” He rolled his eyes then fixed his gaze on her. “So, that’s why I need to kiss you later tonight.”

  “Oh?” She blinked at him. “Oh.”

  “Is that okay?”

  She nodded and smiled, thinking of Gloria, locked in her room, kicking the walls like she was still twelve years old after seeing photos of that.

  “Cool. And just a heads up, once this whole thing is over Saturday night….” He turned up his hands and she knew what he meant. He’d disappear just like the shoes.

  “That’s fine.” She nodded, reassuring him. If only it could be a different ending with Henry, because he’d be disappearing, too. And that thought hurt the most.

  Henry rejoined them at the table. “We’re all set with reservations tonight for dinner.” He turned to Cindi with a smile. “Your stepmother called her contact at Jiminy looking for tickets to the ball this weekend.”

  “Ugh.” Cindi frowned. “Just be sure to keep her away from me.”

  “Oh, I lied and told her, ‘Tickets are for friends and family only and you seem to be neither.’”

  She covered her mouth to hold back what would certainly be an unattractive bellow of laughter.

  “Then, after she groveled and whined, I told her I’d check to see if we’d have any left.” He shrugged. “Hope you don’t mind that I hung up on her when she started screaming. But it’s your decision whether you want her there.”

  “I’d rather have your mother come. I think she’d love to see what you’ve made of yourself.”

  He shook his head. “But what should we do about your stepmother?”

  She thought abo
ut it for a moment. “I might enjoy having her see me there. Gloria, too.”

  “They don’t deserve it, you know. But no swag bag for either of them,” he said, calling back the office.

  And that’s when she knew she was in love.

  Too bad her arm was looped around the wrong guy.

  ***

  Just two more days of this nightmare, Henry thought. Watching the woman you’re falling in love with fall in love with someone else, sucks in a thousand different ways, he thought to himself.

  Strolling through the zoo, Dirk stepped aside to make a call.

  Cindi sat on a bench and looked up at Henry. “I’ve been thinking how we keep talking about how shoes can change a person’s life.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” He sat next to her.

  She nodded. “I always thought Jiminies would make me feel like a different person, more important, more fashionable, I don’t know. But I still feel like me.” She shrugged. “But for some people, shoes really would change their life. I remember donating shoes for some high school project that were shipped to Africa. Some of the kids there didn’t even have any shoes.”

  “There are several projects like that.”

  “But Jiminy doesn’t have one?”

  He pursed his lips. “Our designer shoes are hardly appropriate for poor families living in the desert.”

  She grabbed his arm. “What if you started one, asking each guest to bring an appropriate pair to donate when they come to the ball this weekend? Or by offering customers a discount when they bring a pair of shoes to the store.”

  He set his hand on hers and stared at her. “I think the boss is going to like this one.”

  Squeezing his arm, she said, “And maybe you’d feel comfortable inviting your mother to the ball, knowing you’re doing something to help others.”

  A lion roared behind them, and Henry smiled. “Why are you so intent on my mother knowing the truth about my job?”

  “I’d do anything to have my mother and father alive. I have to imagine they’d be proud of me no matter what. I think you’re robbing the both of you by keeping this a secret.”