The Princess and the Pizza Man (Destined for Love: Mansions)

by Cassie Mae

  A crack of a real smile broke through the sadness. “Well, rest assured, it isn’t you or the mansion or the murder mystery that has me in this sour mood.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Why not?” She reached up and sprayed back another stubborn strand of hair. “You barely know me.”

  Winter bit her lip, mulling that one over. She didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t give away her matchmaking persona or the partnership she’d developed with Will. She certainly didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

  “I hate seeing happy people sad,” she said. Bells smiled again and tilted her head before grabbing the curling iron.

  “You are good people, Princess.” She curled a chunk of hair and then took a step back. “And you’re done.”

  Bells carefully pulled the dress from the mirror, and Winter’s jaw dropped.

  “Maybelle,” she said in a hushed whisper, “look how gorgeous I look.”

  Bells covered a laugh as Winter rose from her seat to get a closer look. She’d woven her hair into a rope-like braid that started just over her left ear and twisted into an elegant waterfall of curls down her back. The hair framing her face was in twisted tendrils, loosely hanging by her cheeks but not falling into her eyes. All the pins were expertly hidden, and Winter knew there had to be hundreds in there, but she couldn’t see a single one.

  She saw the speckles of ice blue and pastel pink between the twists of the braid, the specially colored sapphires sparkling in the lights surrounding the mirror. She felt like she’d actually become the princess she’d been pretending to be all week.

  She jumped up and down, testing the strength of the up-do, and it held up nicely.

  “I can’t believe you aren’t doing this for a living already,” she said, letting her shoulders relax as she leaned back into her seat. “I don’t want to ever take this out.”

  “Well, it won’t be that comfortable to sleep on.”

  “Then I’ll stay awake forever.”

  Bells grinned, but it was one of those lackluster ones, her eyes crestfallen and full of longing. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

  Winter whipped around. “You’re not going?” When Bells shook her head, she grabbed her hand. “No you have to.” She dropped her character, knowing that she hadn’t really been the princess anyway. “The murderer will be revealed tonight. There will be food, dancing, fun.” A playful grin teased her lips. “I’ll dance with you.”

  A small laugh dropped from Bells’ mouth. “I’m pretty sure your dance card is full.”

  “Please?” An idea popped into her head. “Who am I going to point to when everyone inevitably asks me who did my hair?”

  Bells rolled her eyes, but there was a sparkle back in them. Just a tiny one. Winter just needed one more thing to convince her.

  “You can go through my closet.”

  She snorted. “I couldn’t possibly fit in anything you own.”

  “You could fit in my mother’s dresses.” She nudged Bells’ arm and sang, “She has some red carpet ones in there.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  There was a half a second pause before Winter heard a small squeal that she could’ve sworn was a ready teapot until she saw Bells’ mouth pop open. Before she could change her mind, Winter grabbed her by the hand and led her straight to the elevator. Maybe she couldn’t match her this week, but she’d be darned if she couldn’t get her to have an epic last evening at Frostville Mansion.

  Will pulled at his monkey suit that was a little tight on the arms, but it was the only one left that didn’t drown him or barely stretched across his back. He’d have forgone the entire thing if it weren’t for the fact that Bells was attending as well. And it was him who’d convinced her to stay.

  The ballroom was the biggest room in the mansion he’d seen yet. A pianist sat in the corner, his fingers dragging over the keys like Will’s did when he made pizza. A string quartet played behind him, the music a soft background noise at the moment, but Will imagined that it’d pick up once all the actors were here.

  He scanned the room again for Winter—he’d been subconsciously doing so since he entered—but she was still absent. Bells had come down with him, wearing a dress he’d never seen and a smile he’d missed over the past few days. Thank goodness Winter had been able to cheer her up; it’d been a long couple of days trying not to bug her about what had gone on.

  His sister was never shy about sharing anything and everything, especially with him, and sometimes more information than he’d bargained for. So to have her eerily silent threw him off.

  He picked her out in the crowd, the long dark blue dress looking good and grabbing the attention of a few men in the room. Michael, in particular, seemed unable to take his eyes off her.

  She caught Will staring, and he stuck out a hand in a solidary wave. She returned it and went back to talking with James and Velvet.

  Will looked around again. Winter was the only actress still missing from the group, and Ms. Vancouver was making her way right to him.

  “You need to dance, hunny,” she said, holding her hand out to him. His breath locked away for a second; he was not a dancer—never done it in his life—but his momma would kill him if he refused.

  “I’m not sure if what I’ll be doin’ is dancin’, but you got it.” He took her hand, placing his barely touched drink down on one of the passing trays. Only a few of the guests had made their way to the dance floor, and all of them seemed to just be rocking back and forth and not attempting actual steps. He could do that.

  His hand fell to her waist, and he stuck his other out with a shrug. Ms. Vancouver stepped into him, clasping his open hand and settling the other on his shoulder.

  “Oh, this jacket is doing wonders for this muscle here,” she said with a laugh, and Will chuckled, taking a tentative step to the side. Was he just supposed to go side to side and spin them in a circle somehow? He watched the other dancers, trying to duplicate what they were doing.

  “Oy!” Ms. Vancouver squealed, jerking her dainty foot back. Will hissed through his teeth, heat rushing in his ears.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” He started back in with just side to side, keeping an eye on where his feet were. “This ain’t really my thing.”

  She let out a quiet snort. “Well, I am an excellent teacher.” Her hand went to his freshly trimmed chin. “Keep your eyes on me, dear. Looking at your feet will only get you all tangled up.”

  “And how’m I supposed to see where I’m goin’?”

  “You have the easy part of leading. I get to follow you.”

  “How’re you supposed to know?”

  She laughed. “Okay, stop this middle school side to side nonsense.” Her voice carried to the couple an arm’s length away who were doing exactly the same thing. They both looked so offended that Will felt a chuckle rise in his throat.

  “I’ll teach you the simplest dance in the world—a box step.” She leaned in, her perfume smelling extra pepperminty. “Used in the waltz, and every woman on earth loves a man who can waltz.”

  “What about a man who can cook?”

  She playfully tapped his shoulder. “Focus now, and I’ll give you another arrow in your quiver of seduction.”

  He shook his head with a laugh, dropping his eyes to their feet again. She yanked his face back up.

  “One foot forward,” she said, taking a step back right as Will followed her instructions. “Then to the side, then back, then side again. Rinse and repeat.”

  “So, make a box,” he teased.

  “Yes.” She slid closer to him, making her feet an easy target for mishaps. “Show me what you got, William.”

  A long breath fell from his lips, and he made to step forward, but his clumsy feet tripped first thing. He had a good excuse—his eyes had found the woman he’d been looking for all night, and his brain officially checked out.

  Winter crossed the room, a bright smile on her face and a long, white
gown on her short little body. When she moved under the lights, the dress shimmered turquoise, and tiny blue and pink sparkles in her hair would shine depending on where she stood. Bells had done a really good job on her hair; Will felt like he was actually staring at a princess, but then he heard Winter’s loud cackle echo across the room, and he was reminded that it was still her under there.

  “Well, that didn’t go as I’d hoped,” Ms. Vancouver said, straightening herself up and fixing her dress. Will fumbled to get them back into a good dancing position.

  “Sorry. I did warn ya…”

  “That you did.” She let go of his hand and took a step back. “How about you give me a few minutes to recover? But we are not done here, Mr. Monroe.”

  Will took a breath, surprised to hear it shake as he exhaled. He wasn’t sure if it was how Winter looked tonight or just the fact that it was the last night they had together, but he couldn’t suppress the urgency to be around her as much as possible. And even though he was a horrid dancer, he wanted her hand in his.

  She’d made her way to Bells, and they were chatting animatedly, their voices easily the loudest in the room. Will liked that—that she was just as loud as his family was. He’d always been drawn to the quiet women in the past, but Winter’s boisterous personality was addicting to be around, comfortable, easy… It was like she embodied Alabama without ever setting foot there.

  His feet headed over without his permission, his mind unsure of what would come out his mouth when he got to her. She met his eyes, and her brows lifted in what he hoped was approval at his suit and not amusement. Though he’d probably be okay if she made fun of the tightness of his jacket.

  “Hey you,” she said playfully; the sore attempt at a southern accent was the cutest thing he’d ever heard.

  “Wow.”

  Winter let out a small laugh at his lack of vocabulary. “Well, thank you.” She brought a hand up to her hair. “I have Bells to thank.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he teased, grateful some of his mind was clicking together. Bells hit him in the shoulder, hard enough that he had to rub it out. “You wanna dance with me, Frosty?”

  Yep, his mind was definitely on a train somewhere, leaving him with just a stupid shell. No wonder Garreth seemed so clueless around Bells; he’d been absolutely enamored.

  But then what happened?

  Bells snorted. “You? Dance?” She looked to Winter. “Boy hasn’t danced a day in his life. You shoulda seen him with poor Ms. Vancouver just now.”

  “It was bad, huh?” Winter asked, her smile full, her lips a light shade of pink.

  “I think she’s icing her feet as we speak.”

  Will nearly grabbed Bells in a much-deserved headlock and noogie, but he kept it well-mannered with just a grimace.

  “That sounds exactly like my dancing,” Winter said, her fingers intertwining with his. “Let’s see who can put who in the hospital first.”

  He laughed as she dragged him out to the dance floor, giving Bells a victorious and smug grin over his shoulder. Tingles erupted in his palm where it was connected with Winter’s skin, and they traveled all up his arm and pierced his chest. Winter waved her arm at the musicians in the corner, and after a nod from the pianist, the tempo picked up.

  If she expected him to try to toss and twirl her around, she was definitely going to need a paramedic.

  She dropped his hand, taking a step back and leaving a wide space between them. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she just winked, then started flailing about like she was at a rave and not the middle of a ballroom dance floor.

  The loudest laugh he’d ever let out came from deep within his gut, and he followed her lead. Cheers came from around them, and then more guests and actors joined in. Will got hot enough that he had to rid himself of that jacket, tossing it to one of the empty chairs around the room and loosening his tie. Winter wiggled closer, grabbing onto his tie and using it to reel herself in.

  “You’re not so bad,” she said, eyes flicking up to meet his, her hand stroking the black fabric of his tie. “You’ve got the adorable, innocent dancing down.”

  He brushed down the length of her arm with his knuckles, sparks pinging under his skin. “Well, jumping and waving my arms I can do. Just pretend I’m making a pizza.”

  He took a step back and tossed invisible dough, much to everyone’s amusement. Winter followed his lead and made a very large New York style pizza.

  “Gosh, you are nothing like I thought you’d be,” he blurted, and she titled her head.

  “Good or bad thing?”

  “Good.” He bobbed his head to the music, and she mimicked him. “I was pretty judgmental about this place. And you.”

  “You don’t say,” she teased, then wiggled her rear end around in a circle. He laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her up against him. It happened so quickly he didn’t realize until she was pressed against his chest, his pounding heart an instant giveaway to how he felt about her. He hadn’t even been sure until right then, looking into her spirited gray eyes. He didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t want to go back to Alabama, back to his pizza shop, back to Penelope… he would be content to hold her on this sweaty dance floor for the rest of his days and feel completely at home.

  The thought rocked him on his feet, and he fell back slightly, taking her with him. They laughed at his clumsiness.

  “I warned you about him!” Bells called out in passing, and then Michael grabbed her hand and spun her into him. Winter’s face fell as she watched his sister. And Will settled their dance into a slower, more fluid rhythm.

  “I feel horrible about it, you know,” she said, frowning up at him. “She deserves a happy ending.”

  “She’ll get one.” His hand splayed over the small of Winter’s back, pulling her up against him and making their bellybuttons kiss. “It’s not your fault it didn’t happen this week.”

  “It is.” She put her hand to the side of her mouth like sharing a secret. “I’m Cupid, remember?” Her hand dropped to his chest, her fingers playing with one of his buttons. “I didn’t match anyone this week. If word gets out, they’ll think Cupid has left the building.”

  His heart hummed under her palm, and he swallowed hard. “I’m not so sure he has.”

  Her wide eyes blinked up, and he almost laughed at what he knew she had to be thinking—did he really just say that?

  Yes, he had. And he’d meant it.

  His hands trailed up her sides slowly, and he gauged her reaction, making sure she was okay with him doing this—not just in front of everyone, but at all. When his fingers grazed just under her chin, a smile grew on her face, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. He let out a small chuckle when he heard a small squeal escape her.

  She rose on her tiptoes, his hands moving to cup her cheeks and hold her like the precious gem she was. He leaned in, nose grazing nose, breath mingling with hers.

  “I know who did it!”

  The music cut mid-song, dancers stopped moving, and Will leaned back, breaking away from Winter who looked disappointed and irritated.

  Alexis charged over with Detective Stacey, holding her trusty notepad up into the air. “I’ve solved it!”

  Winter’s shoulders slumped; Alexis taking over the show was obviously not in the script.

  “I’ve seen the evidence,” the detective said. “It all makes sense.” Her eyes moved to Winter, who nodded then took a deep breath.

  “Who was it, Alexis?” She was back in acting mode. “We need to put this awful person behind bars before they kill anyone else.”

  Alexis waggled a finger at her. “Right, we absolutely do.” She gazed around the room, back straightening as if this was finally her moment. Will held back a groan, knowing she was going to put on a show.

  “Everyone thinks Michael is guilty,” she said, pointing at him from across the room. He showed no indication of surprise, only crossed his arms and tilted an eyebrow. Bells stood near him, watching him with the sa
me focus Will usually gave Winter. Something clicked in his brain, but he didn’t have the chance to linger on it.

  “But that would be too obvious, right? You almost had me fooled, too.” Alexis went back to addressing the room. “The scorned lover only wants what he thinks is his—half of the royal fortune. You were engaged to Winter, weren’t you? And she broke it off.”

  Michael dropped his crossed arms, pointing an accusatory finger at Winter. “All I wanted was you, but you didn’t believe me, did you? You just thought I was after the money.” He strode over, his eyes so intense that Will had the urge to knock the man flat on his rear, even though the guy had about fifty pounds and six inches on him. “But I loved you, Winter. I still do.”

  Winter looked frightfully back and forth between Michael and Stacey. “Please, not now. I can’t do this right now.”

  “She won’t be able to do it ever,” Alexis butted in. Michael’s brow furrowed, and he spun around.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Alexis took another deep breath, suppressing what looked like a wide smile. “Who was at every event this week?” she said. “Who traded desserts with Joshua? Who was out in the gardens where Edward was last seen? Who wants Michael behind bars so she doesn’t have to share her fortune?”

  A collective gasp fell across the room, excited whispers of shock bouncing from guest to guest. Eyes fell to Winter, including Will, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. An amused and unapologetic glint rose in her gray irises as her eyes met his, and it went away just as quickly as she put her acting mask on.

  Her head flashed to the door, and she took off. Will had to give her credit for being able to run so fast in those ridiculous shoes.

  “Stop her!” the detective shouted. A couple of security guards blocked the ballroom exit, and Winter turned, panic written on her beautiful face. Will couldn’t help smiling, watching her act this out, watching the last person he suspected become the murderer of the entire show. And she’d kept it hidden so well from even him; the respect he’d had for her tripled.

  “Winter Garland,” the detective said, grabbing her by the wrists and snapping handcuffs on, “you’re under arrest for the murders of Joshua Ortega and Edward Finch.”