Fairy Tale Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories
Page 4
He grinned at her. “You’re a whole lot more than a set of pretty feet, Cindi.”
They stared at each other, their hands still linked, when Dirk came back. Henry took his hand away, and Dirk pulled Cindi up from the bench, snaking his arm around her. “Let’s hit the reptile house. I kind of miss the cold blooded creatures of Hollywood.”
“Just so long as it’s not feeding time.” She wrinkled her nose. “Poor mice.”
Henry shook his head, as he followed behind them. For someone so enthralled with appearances and labels, she really cared about creatures big and small. Even little mice and thirty-something fools like himself. It’s not so much that she cared about him; she thought about everyone.
Damn, he was going to miss her when this was all over.
With little enthusiasm, he followed behind them with the camera as they left the zoo. He needed new shots for the latest update on the Jiminy Shoes website. Fans were clamoring for more photos of this budding romance, and he had to feed the publicity machine. Thousands of people had registered to be the next princess for a week. He had no idea there were so many size fives in the world. But none like her.
He had to stop thinking like that. She wasn’t his, anymore than those shoes belonged to her. It was a week of magic and that was it. Or at least it had been until Dirk showed up.
Cindi and Dirk were headed for another night of dinner and then dancing at a club. But before they got back in the limo they’d been using, Dirk stopped, wrapped one hand around the back of Cindi’s head and pulled her in for a kiss.
He was so stunned, he missed the picture.
And he almost dropped the camera when he saw her huge smile.
Then, it got worse. “Guys, can you do that again? I missed the shot.”
Dirk grinned at him. “No problem. I was planning to anyway.”
Henry would need his own date later that night to get over this: Captain Morgan, meet Henry Hubbard, the stupidest man in the world.
***
Cindi spent most of Friday choosing the perfect dress for her goodbye ball Saturday night, where she’d part ways with the shoes, and Henry would announce the winner who’d get them next.
Henry was quiet as they went shopping.
“Does this mean you’ll be traveling to work with the next shoe girl?” she asked.
“No. There’s other publicity work to be done, and there’s my mother. We’ll find someone else to go. The owner is thrilled how this is unfolding.”
Cindi came out of the dressing room in a long, silky blue dress. “Does this look alright?”
He could only nod.
“Okay. I’ll get it. Can we stop and get some chocolate before I head back to the hotel?”
“Why?”
“I’m going to need a load of it for Sunday morning when it’s back to the real world.”
He set his hand on her bare shoulder and willed himself not to let it wander to other more interesting locations. “It’s not going to be your old world. Trust me, with the coverage you’ve gotten you’re going to get other offers.” And then there’s Dirk, who didn’t seem to be going anywhere soon. “This isn’t over for you yet.”
Just for us, it is.
He’d never tried chocolate therapy, but maybe he’d stock up on some, too.
***
Cindi truly felt like a princess as she got dressed Saturday night. A hair and makeup artist had been sent to get her ready. A horse and carriage waited outside the hotel to drive her to the farewell party. Dirk had stashed champagne and roses in the carriage, which he presented to her after she climbed in—with another kiss. For a fake kiss, it was not bad at all.
As the carriage pulled away, she waved to Henry standing on the sidewalk, taping the whole thing. Her heart sank as the horse pranced away from the man she would’ve rather spent the evening with.
When they arrived at the hotel, the paparazzi were lined up outside ready for her walk down the red carpet. “Show us the shoes!” they cried as she descended from the carriage.
She lifted the hem of her long dress, exposing her foot for the camera.
Dirk paused to kiss her hand, and then led her along the walkway. Cameras flashed like the Fourth of July on steroids. She walked into the ballroom, beautifully decorated with candles and white roses. Big tables were set up with collection bins for people to donate their shoes. A crowd was already gathered inside, and her stomached dropped when she saw her stepmother and Gloria rushing toward her and Henry walked in and gave Cindi a look. “I’m on it. Go enjoy yourself, Cindi.”
Dirk led her to the dance floor, and while she didn’t know how to waltz, he did a fine job leading the way.
“When the press asks why we aren’t together anymore, what are you going to say?” Cindi asked. It’s not that she’d miss him, but she didn’t want to be humiliated.
His big hands squeezed hers. “I’m going to fly out to the west coast and meet with some directors. I figure we’ll just let this fizzle out. Sound okay with you?”
“Sounds good.”
“Under different circumstances, I think something could’ve happened between us,” he said.
Not if she’d met Henry first. “Yeah, maybe.”
The song came to an end and he dipped her. Then he brought her back up, and nuzzled her cheek. “I didn’t expect to have so much fun with you this week. And you’ve really helped get me back in the papers. I hate that this is part of the job, but it is what it is. Thanks for everything.”
“Hey, don’t think I got nothing out of this. My stepsister will be jealous for the rest of her life.” She looked over where Henry had Gloria and her stepmother corralled in a corner table. Gloria waved to her, and Cindi responded by kissing Dirk.
Too bad Henry had seen it as well.
Dirk looked over at them. “I hope you get your guy.”
“Can’t have everything,” Cindi said. “Certainly not at the same time.” The shoes certainly seemed magical, but they weren’t perfect.
“I’m going to work the room. We’ll catch up before midnight,” he said, his hand slipping from hers.
Cindi wanted to talk with Henry, but she was swept away on the dance floor by guest after guest. She was nearly held captive in the ladies room by a woman with wild, blond curls who was dying to know what Dirk was really like and if he needed an apartment sitter.
“Have him call me. Goldie Lockston,” she made the universal call me sign, holding pinky to mouth and thumb to ear while passing Cindi a card.
When she left the restroom, she spotted Henry dancing with an older woman. There was no mistaking her big, brown eyes; she’d been staring at them on Henry’s face for a week now. She hurried over, unable to hold back a huge grin.
He stopped dancing and smiled. “Cindi, this is my mother, Nancy Hubbard. Mom, this is Cindi.”
They shook hands. “So nice to meet you. What do you think of all this? Your son is a marketing genius.”
His mother squeezed his arm. “I’m so proud. I can’t believe he works for such a high falutin’ company and was keeping it a secret.” Then she whacked him with her purse. “And all of these years I could have had the most stylish shoes in town.” She lifted her foot. “My first pair of Jiminies. Don’t you love them?”
“They’re fabulous.” She smiled at Henry, and felt her heart melt for him seeing him so pleased. “And did you see he’s collecting shoes for the needy?”
“I’m not surprised. Henry looks out for everyone.” She put her hand on his cheek. “But my son needs to start looking out for himself, too. Now excuse me, I want to chase down that Dirk fellow for a dance.”
Then another guest tapped Cindi’s shoulder. As the man pulled her away, Henry caught her hand. “I’m sorry, we were just about to dance.”
Henry swirled her across the floor for several songs as the orchestra played several favorite classical tunes. If only the night could end like this, she thought. In Henry’s arms.
But duty called, and Henry led he
r off the dance floor. “You’re wonderful, Cindi.” And he walked away. Which was the exact opposite of being in his arms, she noted. Her wishes weren’t coming true anymore; this whole thing was really ending.
After that, she had more glasses of champagne than she could count, posed for more pictures than she had in the past ten years, and smiled so much her face hurt. Then before she knew it, the giant clock set up inside specifically for the party chimed fifteen minutes before midnight.
Her heart sank. This whirlwind was coming to an end. And in some ways she was grateful. It would be nice not to worry what her butt looked like every time Henry was behind her filming. And honestly, it would be wonderful to wear another pair of shoes. But as she looked across the room at Henry, talking on his cell phone, while directing the press to the stage where Cindi would turn over her shoes, her stomach kerplunked like a coin in a well that didn’t stand a chance of granting its wish. Or like a coin in the fountain they’d had installed right there in the ballroom for partygoers to make their own wishes. Not far from the white horse people could pose next to for a keepsake photo. And who could forget the incredible cupcake display? They’d even made sure there were some healthy options for people into that kind of thing. A pumpkin seed muffin? The Sea Goddess muffin? People would be talking about this party for a long time.
She felt a hand slide around her waist. “Ready for our last dance?” Dirk’s voice was deep and sultry and she wondered what was wrong with her for not feeling attracted to him.
But they had to keep up the charade, so she nodded, and Dirk led her to the dance floor. He spun her and dipped her as the crowd oohed and ahhed and the cameras rolled. Then, with a few minutes left until midnight, he escorted up her on stage, where she sat on a beautiful marble bench. He stepped aside as Henry approached her, wearing a clip-on wireless microphone.
“Cindi, your magical week is coming to an end. At Jiminy Shoes, we like to say shoes can change your life, and indeed, they changed yours.”
She looked up at him and nodded, blinking back the tears. She wished it was just the two of them there, and she could kick off the shoes without a second thought and fold herself into his arms.
Henry slid off the first shoe. The lights on the stage dimmed; the candles on the table were blown out. The place was whisper quiet and she got goose bumps from the drama of it all. When he took off the second shoe, the spotlight on her went out. The room was in total darkness.
One of his assistants escorted Cindi backstage. Then the lights came back on and Henry was announcing the next lucky woman to wear the enchanted shoes. Someone in Sweden. Probably a supermodel so beautiful he’d be willing to make his first international trip.
She decided she’d let herself pout for a day or two, then she’d work to parlay the media attention into more business for herself. The Princess Party Planner? The Best Foot Forward Event Planner? She’d come up with something. But for now, she was crashing like a chocoholic coming off the sugar high of a lifetime.
***
As the party guests filed out of the ballroom, Henry watched Cindi wander over to the fountain and toss in a coin. She sat on the edge gazing at the water.
Despite the publicists waiting outside for him hoping to set their clients up with the next crystal shoe girl, he went to her. “If you wished for another week with the shoes, I can’t make it happen. Sorry.”
She looked up at him. “No, I’m fine.” She scrubbed the heel of her hand across her cheek. Shit, she’d been crying.
He sat next to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this would be so hard on you. You can come pick out all the shoes you want tomorrow. I promise.”
She laughed through her tears. “A week ago that would have been a dream come true.”
“But it’s not now?”
She shook her head.
He opened the box he’d been carrying with him. “Here, while no one’s looking, wear them one last time.” He handed her the shoes and she set them in her lap.
“Thanks,” she whispered, but didn’t move to put them on.
“Ah, so it’s not that either. It’s problems with Dirk, then. Was he just after your feet?” He hoped he sounded funnier than he felt.
She laughed. “No, just after publicity.”
He gritted his teeth. “You sure? You two seemed pretty interested in each other.” He was still trying to erase their kisses from his mind.
“I was just trying to annoy my stepsister, and he was just trying to get in the tabloids. It worked.”
His heart surged. Was she truly not interested in one of the hottest guys in Hollywood? “And now?”
She shrugged. “It’s over. That’s all it ever was. He was totally upfront with me about it. And I told him I wasn’t interested either.”
He was relieved, but confused. “So, what’s bothering you so much you came over here to make a wish? You had everything this week. What more could you wish for?”
She closed her eyes. “Now I have to find a job and a new place to live.”
Ah. He had to make this right for her. Maybe what his mother had said was true, he did worry about people. But Cindi was worth worrying over. “Don’t think twice about a job. We’d be smart to have you working in one of our stores. People would come in just to see you. We can get you a job for now. But you deserve something better. And I’ll see that you have another week in the hotel so you can find a place to live. Is that what’s making you so sad?”
She looked up at him. “I thought the clothes and shoes and all the attention would be a dream come true. It’s what I’ve always wanted. It reminded me of when I was little and my father showered me with gifts. This week was great, really.” She frowned. “At first anyway. But then I realized what I really missed was the time spent with my father, not the stuff he got me. And now, I’m going to miss the time I spent with you.” She looked down at the shoes in her lap, running her fingers along the heels.
He stared at her. “You’re going to miss me?”
She nodded. “I guess the timing’s just wrong. I know you’re not looking for a girlfriend right now. You’re focused on your career. I get that. And now you’re going to be busier than ever. It’s over.”
He reached for her hand, but his mother picked the perfect time to wander over. “So, I suppose you’ll be going to Sweden to work with the next shoe girl?”
“No, don’t worry, Mother. I’ll be here for you.”
She waved off the idea with a white-gloved hand. “Too bad you couldn’t go. You should see some of the world instead of doting on me. You need to get yourself a nice girl. I won’t be around forever. And besides, I have a gentleman friend in town. The butcher, who is going to love these new shoes.” She waggled her eyebrows. “And the baker I’ve been seeing on the side might like them, too. Now where’d all those waiters with the champagne go?” She wandered off looking for another drink.
Cindi grabbed his arms. “Henry, you should go to Sweden.”
“You don’t want me here?”
She widened her eyes; her lovely, green eyes. “I don’t want you to miss any more of your life.”
He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling. Then he looked back at her. “Do you have a passport?”
She nodded.
“Let me make a phone call.” He walked across the room so Cindi couldn’t hear the conversation. Once he got the owner of Jiminy on the line, Henry got the answers he was hoping for.
“What do you think about coming to Sweden with me? You’re the new director of our Do Good Shoe Good project.”
She looked up at him and tossed the shoes aside. He picked her up and swung her around. Then he swept his lips across hers, until the plump pout of her lower lip was tucked between his in a delicious kiss. “So, you’re not upset about not being a princess anymore?”
“I feel like a princess now. That wishing well of yours worked.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. They fit together like a perfect pair of sh
oes. It was probably too soon to tell her, but the owner of Jiminy Shoes had promised the crystal heels would belong to Cindi for good when she and Henry got married. Henry smiled as he was kissing her, just thinking of it.
“What?” she asked, between kisses.
“I always wondered what happily ever after felt like.”
“Red”
Rose had four-dozen pumpkin seed muffins left over from the Shoe Ball the night before along with three-dozen Sea Goddess muffins. They hadn’t been quite the hit she’d hoped. She hung the closed sign in the window and grabbed her basket of leftovers. Seemed like Grandma Kate was the only one benefiting from her floundering bakery. Rose couldn’t bear to toss out the leftovers at the end of the day, so she often stopped by Grandma’s on the way home to share the goodies. The lease on Yum Yum Good For You was up in three months, and she’d probably have to close the shop. She couldn’t argue with the numbers on the balance sheet, but it cleaved her heart in two just thinking of it. At age twenty-five, she hadn’t found success yet in her personal life or her professional life. The word “failure” nipped at the edges of her sleep every night.
She slipped on her long, red cape and stepped outside into the chilly night. Wearing such a bright color increased her chances of grabbing a cab by fifty percent—she’d done several informal comparisons to back up her theory. Her red cape had become her thing and she now owned three in different styles and never had to worry about a ride. Sure, it clashed with her hair, but so what?
The second cab she spotted pulled over to pick her up. “Where to?” asked the driver.
“Grimm Towers, over on Sherwood Street.”
He whistled. “Swanky.”
“Oh, I don’t live there. My grandmother does.” No, Rose had a tiny studio downtown. It was cozy and cheap. If the bakery folded she couldn’t exactly downsize her digs. Anything smaller than her apartment would be considered a roomy closet. Quite a difference from the rambling farmhouse she grew up in out in the country.
She pulled back the checkered cloth covering her basket. “Can I interest you in a free pumpkin seed muffin? It’s made with spelt flour, oats, bran, and organic pumpkins, topped with pumpkin seeds. I own the bakery back there.”