“Camilla, wait!” Jordan was still in his white dress shirt, but the tie was undone and his sleeves were rolled up. “I saw you walking out and didn’t want you leaving without saying goodbye.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I didn’t want to be in the way in there and figured everyone would be leaving soon anyway.”
“I’d offer to drive you, but I should probably stay here until the ambulance arrives.” Jordan craned his neck to look toward the paved private road leading to his family’s ranch house. Lines of concern marred his forehead, his expression the exact opposite of the confident charmer she’d met earlier this evening. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long.”
Camilla suppressed a chuckle. Of course Jordan wasn’t used to waiting for anything. What he didn’t realize, though, was that the Bronco City Council had approved a new fire station to be built in the wealthier area of the Heights, despite the fact that the majority of residents lived in the Valley. So the ambulances were usually called down the hill to assist with the regular folks, making the EMTs less likely to be on standby for the citizens of the Heights. But the poor guy was nervously rocking back and forth in his fancy black cowboy boots, so she didn’t have the heart to get into a discussion about the disparities in their town’s designation of civic resources.
“Like I said, please don’t worry about it.” Her smile wasn’t forced when she added, “I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“Good.” Jordan’s shoulders relaxed before he reached out and traced a finger along her bare arm. “You have no idea how much better my evening got once I finally met you.”
She wanted to tell him that she bet he said that to all the girls. But those dark brown eyes of his were so focused and seemed so entirely serious that Camilla found herself at a complete loss of words.
“Before I saw you, I was counting the minutes until I could leave.” He took a step closer and Camilla felt a shiver travel down her back. His voice lowered. “As soon as I started talking to you, though, the night became almost magical.”
She tilted her face to look up at him just before he lowered his lips to hers, brushing them ever so slightly against her open mouth. Camilla wasn’t entirely sure the contact would count as a kiss, yet the tingling sensation spreading through her suggested it was even more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced. At least in public.
In fact, she almost lifted on tiptoe to try the kiss again, but a siren sounded in the distance. Several more partygoers spilled out of the tent, and Camilla jumped back. Jordan looked over his shoulder before he squeezed her hand. “I hope I can see you again, Miss Balthazar.”
Camilla’s heart immediately dropped into the pit of her stomach and the red warning lights flashing all around her weren’t just from the approaching emergency responders.
Who in the world was Miss Balthazar? Had he mistaken her for someone else?
Her mind tried to race through all their earlier conversations to recall if either one of them had ever mentioned her last name. But her brain and her blood felt as though they were frozen. Luckily, the parking attendant pulled her car along the other side of the recently arrived ambulance. She needed to get out of here before he found out she wasn’t who he thought she was.
“Thank you again for a lovely evening,” she called out before rushing off into the night. Cinderella herself hadn’t made such a dramatic exit.
At least Camilla hadn’t left so much as a glass slipper behind.
* * *
Jordan sat in his office, scrolling through last night’s RSVP list on his laptop.
“It’d be quicker if you just tell me what, or who, you’re looking for and I find her myself.” Mac, his personal assistant, came around to his side of the desk.
Jordan didn’t lift his eyes from the digital spreadsheet. “Why are you assuming it’s a female I’m looking for?”
“When are you not in search of a female?” Mac leaned in closer, squinting despite the fact that her smudged spectacles were perched on top of her Bronco Valley Little League ball cap. Jordan’s own grandfather had hired the woman fresh out of secretarial school back in the fifties, and the older woman liked to remind Jordan that she’d been an employee of Taylor Beef longer than any of them. “Besides, you never ask me to forward you emails from Little Cornelius’s public relations team. Something’s up.”
“You know, Mac, I think you’re the only person alive who can still get away with calling my old man Little Cornelius.”
“That’s because I used to change his diapers just like I did yours,” Mac easily replied. “It’s the same reason why I can get people around this place to provide me party lists with no questions asked.”
Jordan agreed. The fewer people who knew about his little extracurricular search, the better. That included Mac. “Don’t you have a batting lineup or something you need to work on right now?”
“Nope.” Mac tugged on the faded red jersey with Senior Swingers stitched across the front. His assistant was well past eighty years old and didn’t really assist Jordan so much as act as a gatekeeper from keeping Cornelius and some of the other members of the board of directors from bugging Jordan while he worked. In exchange for her loyalty and dedication, he didn’t complain about the fact that Mac used her desk outside of his office as her coaching headquarters for the two Little League and three year-round recreational softball teams she managed. “Not when my boy is planning to make some calls to the bullpen to send another rookie to the pitching mound.”
“Can you please stop comparing my dating life to a sporting event?” Jordan’s eye caught on the letter C on his screen, but the name beside it was Carmichael, not Camilla.
“Well, if the cleat fits...” Mac rested a bony elbow on Jordan’s shoulder. She clearly wasn’t leaving his office anytime soon.
“I’m trying to get a phone number for Camilla Balthazar.” He released a heavy breath. “But I’m not seeing her on the RSVP list. In fact, I’m not seeing anyone named Camilla.”
“There’s an Alexis Balthazar.” Mac pointed out the same thing Jordan’s eye kept coming back to. He’d never really asked the woman her name last night, but DJ Traub had referred to her as Camilla. Maybe DJ had gotten the name wrong, but she’d been too polite to correct him. Jordan racked his brain trying to remember if he’d called her by the wrong name, as well.
“I think this number beside her name is for the North American headquarters.” Jordan kept his fingers from reaching for his phone. The best way to avoid Mac’s sports-announcer-type commentary was to ask her to do her actual job. “Will you see if you can track down a direct phone line for Alexis?”
“No can do, Sport.” Mac stood up and made a motion as though she was swinging a bat. “You know what my training is like during the off-season. I’ve gotta get to the indoor cages before the Bronco Bombers get there and take all the fast pitch machines.”
Jordan held back his knowing grin as the woman who was more like a grandmother to him took off for yet another practice. Then he shut his office door before dialing the number.
After being transferred to three different extensions and repeating the name “Jordan Taylor from Taylor Beef” at least five times, he finally reached Alexis Balthazar’s assistant, who told him that the corporate jet was grounded last night in Brussels unexpectedly. The man added that Miss Balthazar was sorry she’d missed the Denim and Diamonds gala and would be sending a sizable donation when she returned to the States.
Jordan stared at the phone for several seconds after he hung up. He typed the name Alexis Balthazar into his internet search engine, and the image that popped up on his screen was a long-haired brunette, but the eye color and the cheekbones and the smile were all wrong. This definitely was not the same woman from last night.
Did Jose have another daughter? He scanned the company’s website for a list of employees, but didn’t see anyone named Camilla. Jordan tried
several more internet searches before his cell phone vibrated with a text notification from Daphne.
Erica had a GIRL! They named her Josie after her Grandpa Josiah. Isn’t that sweet? Mom and baby are both doing well.
Jordan made a mental note to send a card or something to the hospital when a second text bubble appeared from Daphne. Glad last night was a success for someone.
Damn. He’d been so focused on Camilla last night that he hadn’t even checked in with his sister. Jordan quickly pressed the green phone icon to call Daphne, who picked up on the second ring.
“I take it things didn’t go well between you and the old man last night?” he asked.
“It was a total disaster. Dad told me that it was never too late to apologize and admit that the animal sanctuary was a mistake. I told him not to hold his breath.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah. Good for me. Except he walked away and pretty much froze me out for the rest of the night. It was so uncomfortable. At one point, we were standing next to each other at the bar and Daniel Dubois asked how things were going and Dad pretended like I wasn’t even there.”
“Sounds like something he’d do.” Jordan put the phone on speaker and kept clicking on the keys on his laptop. He felt bad for Daphne, but they both knew how Cornelius was. He loved his children, even if he had the most frustrating way of expressing it. This kind of passive aggressive behavior was nothing new and eventually the old man would come around. “Dad can’t stand not getting his way so he’ll pretend the problem doesn’t even exist. Not that you’re a problem. It’s just in his mind...you know?”
“Oh, I know all right.” Daphne snorted. “If you’re not with him, you’re against him and all that. What’s that clicking sound? Are you typing while you’re talking to me?”
“Sort of. I’m trying to find someone who was at the party last night. Do you remember Jose Balthazar?”
“Not really. But I remember his daughter. Alexis and I went to that all girls’ camp together during our high school winter breaks.”
“Did he have any other daughters? There was a woman last night at the party named Camilla and—”
“The brunette in the gold sequined gown?” Daphne interrupted.
“Yes!” His pulse sped up. “Did you talk to her?”
“Jordan, I don’t think anyone besides you had a chance to talk with her. With the way you two were moving on the dance floor, I don’t think anyone wanted to come between you.”
“Aha! So I wasn’t just imagining that we had a connection.” Jordan almost pumped his fist in triumph. Instead, he settled for doing a full one-eighty spin in his custom leather desk chair.
“C’mon, Jor. Half the female population of Montana thinks they have a connection with you.”
“But this was different. This time, I was the one feeling the connection.”
Jordan could almost see Daphne rolling her eyes before she said, “Well, I can’t help you. I have no idea who she was.”
“Dad told me it was Jose Balthazar’s daughter.”
“Nope. Alexis is the only girl in that family as far as I know. Besides, you know how bad Dad’s eyes are when he refuses to wear his glasses.”
Crap. Jordan had forgotten about that part.
“So how do I find her?” he asked his sister.
“You don’t. If a woman wants to be found, she’ll find you first.”
“But I’m not even sure of her real name. Maybe you could ask some of your friends...”
“You know who you sound like right now?” Daphne asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Dad.”
“That’s hitting below the belt,” he replied, not really joking.
“It’s true. Once you get your mind set on something, you can’t let it go.”
Jordan felt his nostrils expand as he sucked in a calming breath. He was used to the nicknames and the teasing and the constant references to his dating history. But Jordan had worked his entire life to be the opposite of his father. To not take things so seriously or care what people thought about him. To not get too attached to anyone, especially women who might leave.
“Listen, I gotta get going,” he said, wanting to end the call as politely as possible. He also didn’t want his sister to realize how much her comparison had bothered him. She was already dealing with enough when it came to their family.
“So you can get back to the search for your missing Cinderella?”
“No, so that I can order something to be delivered to Erica at the hospital,” he said, which wasn’t a total lie. Although as soon as he placed the order online, he had every intention of resuming his search for the woman who’d fled the ball right before the stroke of midnight.
Not that his conversation with his sister had made him feel like any sort of Prince Charming. Far from it, in fact.
After Daphne said goodbye, he tried to remind himself that his sister was actually annoyed at their father, not Jordan. However, her expressing her doubt about his intentions still stung. Especially because what he’d experienced last night was different. Camilla was special.
If Camilla was, in fact, her real name.
Jordan drummed his fingers beside the computer mouse. His sister’s words bounced around in his head. If a woman wants to be found, she’ll find you first. Most of the women he’d ever dated, and even a few he hadn’t dated, had always sought him out or made it more than clear that they were available if he were to ask them out. But Jordan had a feeling Camilla wasn’t most women.
He returned his attention to his laptop and clicked on his stepmother’s social media page to see if photos from the night before had already been uploaded. Sure enough, there were several...dozen. In the very last one, he was finally able to zoom in on a woman in a gold sequined gown sitting at a table with DJ Traub and his wife.
Jordan picked up his phone to call DJ, but had second thoughts. They were really more acquaintances than anything else. DJ’s Deluxe did some business with Taylor Beef, keeping the local restaurant well stocked with their best cuts of meat, but that was his Uncle Lester’s account. He couldn’t just randomly call the man out of the blue and ask about the woman who’d been sitting at his table.
Instead, Jordan typed DJ’s name in the search field on his social media tab and quickly found the page for the popular restaurant in Bronco Heights. Most of the images were of the food and the decor, but in the grand opening crowd, he thought he saw someone who might be Camilla.
An electrical current raced through him now that he’d found a clue about the woman from last night. Grabbing his car keys, he strode down the hall and out the building. He suddenly had an unexplainable craving for a porterhouse and another glass of Macallan.
* * *
Camilla’s arm was already buckling under the weight of the tray holding several sizzling cast iron plates artfully displaying tonight’s special—peppercorn-encrusted filet mignon in a mushroom and red wine reduction sauce, potatoes au gratin and steamed asparagus with an herbed lemon zest.
She was exhausted and deflated and couldn’t wait to get off work and go climb into her bed. After Jordan had called her by the wrong name last night, she’d tossed and turned, thinking about how the only reason he’d even talked to her was that he’d thought she was someone else. She’d gotten maybe two hours of sleep this morning before having to be up for her Managerial Economics class at eight sharp. Thank God for online classes—at least she could watch the lecture in her pajamas with her hair in a messy bun and last night’s leftover mascara still stuck to her lashes.
After finishing her paper on regression analysis in today’s service industry, she’d hoped to get a little nap in before her afternoon shift at DJ’s Deluxe. Instead, her sister asked her to drop off the borrowed dress at the dry cleaners. Then her dad needed a ride to his doctor’s appointment because he wasn’t supposed to be driving yet postsurg
ery, and her mom couldn’t take him because Mrs. Waters had shown up at the salon after trying to do another home perm. The rest of Camilla’s afternoon had been an entire blur.
But through it all, she kept moving, which kept her from having to mentally relive the embarrassing mix-up last night. Serving at a restaurant was a comforting routine to her. She delivered the plates to one table, dropped off the check at a second table, and was in the middle of taking a drink order from a third when she realized someone sitting at the bar was watching her.
Jordan Taylor.
Camilla froze with her pen hovering over the pad. Even if she’d wanted to dive for cover under the white-linen-draped table, her body refused to move. Why was he here? She hadn’t even had time to think about the man since she’d awoken this morning. And that was a good thing. Or at least it had been.
“What kind of craft beers do you have on tap?” a customer asked, jarring her back to the real world. She was no longer at the Denim and Diamonds gala. She had a living to earn.
Despite the fact that Camilla had both the wine and beer lists memorized, she didn’t trust herself not to stutter or lose focus. Instead, she told the customer, “I’ll go get you a menu. Be right back.”
Maybe that had been the wrong stall tactic, she realized, as she was now forced to walk toward the bar to retrieve the printed parchment tucked into a leather folder. Jordan’s mouth split into that boyishly charming grin as she approached.
“Hey,” he said, showcasing those knee-wobbling dimples in his cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I thought about playing it cool and saying I came in for an after-work drink and a perfectly cooked ribeye. But the truth is that I was hoping to see you again.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been trying to find you all day.”
His Christmas Cinderella Page 3
