Cinderella's New York Fling

by Cara Colter

  He tasted of what he was: strength and calm.

  But that strength, that she loved, and that was so obvious about him, was also what made him pull away from her.

  “You know we can’t,” he said softly.

  “If I don’t take the job, can we?”

  He laughed softly. “Now there’s as poor a reason for making a career decision as I’ve ever heard.”

  He got up from her reluctantly. He stood over her for a moment, then reached down and cupped her cheek in his hand. He gazed at her face as though he were trying to memorize it. And then, he bent, placed one more gentle kiss on her lips, turned and went down the hall, into his bedroom. The door clicked shut with a kind of firm finality.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT WAS JESSICA’S last day in NYC, and already it was showing every sign of being perfect. To her surprise, after putting her off last night, Jamie had joined her this morning.

  From the moment he had introduced her to Patience and Fortitude, the marble lions that guarded the main entrance to the New York Public Library, Jessica had been enchanted. They had joined a tour, just leaving. Jessica had been enraptured with every square inch of that iconic building,

  And the truth was, not just with the building.

  It was having another incredibly memorable experience with Jamie at her side. It was remembering his lips, the taste of them, it was the potential, in the air between them for more.

  It was her last day here. Jessica could already feel a sense of loss—and something else.

  She was going to say yes. She was going to say yes to this incredible opportunity that was being offered her. She was going to say yes to the adventure. Maybe not forever. She distrusted forever.

  But what would the harm be in trying it?

  And did the sizzle between her and Jamie have anything to do with her saying yes?

  If anything, she saw it as a complication. He really was going to be her boss. He probably wasn’t going to be available to act as her tour guide, to eat pizza with, to take her to shows, to cook homemade meals for, to go on carriage rides through Central Park.

  But he would be part of her life.

  And she wanted that. She wanted to know him better. She could see the fabric of their lives weaving together. Perhaps fate had even ordained this. Even the theft, forcing them closer together, destiny having its way with them...

  She stopped suddenly.

  She was making plans for her whole life without checking in with a single soul. She had not checked in since she got here. She had not looked at any of her social media accounts and, apart from that first phone call to her parents, she had not talked to anyone.

  Not being connected had felt freeing, and amazingly so.

  But now, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was living in a bubble. Jamie Gilbert-Cooper was just the kind of guy who could make a woman erase every other thing from her reality.

  She needed to check in with her real life. She needed to ground herself. And just as she was recognizing that, she saw one of the library workstations—with a computer—come available.

  Jamie had been emailing her pictures of their excursions. She could pick them up, and make a few posts. She could message with her mom and dad, and Daisy and Aubrey.

  She suddenly recognized how momentous a turn in the road she had come to. She needed the input of those closest to her. She needed to know she had not given herself over to a fantasy, a fairy tale.

  “I should use one of those computers,” she said. “Can you give me half an hour?”

  “Of course. I’m not sure if you have to be a member, but I can sign you in if you do.”

  Jessica signed in under Jamie’s library account, and picked up the photos he had been emailing her. She could feel the delight unfolding in her as she looked at each of them. It confirmed her decision. She would take the job. She would move here. She would embrace the unknown.

  I will let myself finish what I have started, which is falling in love with Jamie Gilbert-Cooper.

  But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Was she basing her decision on any of the right things?

  She opened the message app on her favorite social media account. She sent her mother a picture of her with the lions in the background and a quick note saying she had seen Phantom of the Opera and been to the Russian Tea Room.

  It was as if her mother had been waiting—which she probably had, Jessica realized guiltily.

  Her mother wrote back.

  So exciting. What’s the job like? What are your thoughts?

  Jessica replied that she was undecided and, after a little more conversation with her mother, reviewed some of her other social media accounts.

  Jessica saw she had messages from both Daisy and Aubrey, but before she could open them, Aubrey saw she was online and popped up on chat.

  How is it going? Why haven’t we heard from you?

  Awful incident at the airport. All my luggage, my computer and phone stolen. Haven’t posted anything about it, as I don’t want Mom and Dad to worry. I’m using the computer at the New York Public Library right now. So much to tell you!

  And Daisy and I to tell you!! We have both been given the most extraordinary gifts. Daisy got a house in Italy.

  What?

  Yes! And I’ve been given the funds to have the most grand adventure of my entire life. I can afford to circle the globe, travel, have adventures. I feel as if I’ve won a lottery!

  I don’t really understand.

  We don’t either. We’ve been waiting for you to check in, because we think your job offer is related, too.

  In what way?

  Well, doesn’t it seem just a little too coincidental that all three of us are being given these opportunities? Not just gifts, really, but life-changing chances?

  Jessica could feel something in her going cold.

  From who?

  But then, she knew. There was only one thread connecting the three of them. That little old lady and her dog that they had helped in Copenhagen. The three of them had talked about that before: how Viv had said she wanted to keep in touch, but though Aubrey, Daisy and Jessica had, Viv had not. While she had accepted their friend and contact requests, her social media accounts had never been used and she had never responded to messages or inquiries after her health.

  Daisy and I think she might be Vivian Ascot.

  I don’t think I recognize that name.

  Yes, you do. Ascot Corporation. They were the big sponsors of the music festival. It’s one of the biggest corps in the world. They’re into everything from ducks to doughnuts. Didn’t you say your job interview was with Jensen, Henry and Ascot?

  Aubrey had underlined Ascot to make her point. Jessica stared at the screen and felt as if the bottom was falling out of her world. It was a worse shock than having her things stolen. She’d been tricked. Deceived.

  Oh, no doubt Viv—if this was Viv behind all this—thought she was doing a good deed, repaying some perceived debt or act of kindness.

  But it meant that Jessica hadn’t been chosen for this job because of her qualifications, or her know-how.

  She felt a fool. How could she have believed, even for one second, that the owner of a miniscule bookstore in a town no one had ever heard of, which did not even deserve its own dot on the map, had come to the attention of an international firm like JHA?

  No wonder she had been picked off at the airport! She might as well have had “easy mark” tattooed across her forehead.

  And he was part of it! Jamie was part of it.

  She’d planned to abandon her parents. And her bookstore. And her community. On the power of a kiss! She was deeply ashamed of herself.

  And she was shocked by her lack of discernment. Last night, she had felt as if she could trust this man almost more than anyone else she had ever met! She wasn’t just
so naive they could pick her off at the airport, she was an immature fool.

  I’ve just about got interim travel documents in place, so I’ll be heading home soon. I’ll call you and Daisy when I get there.

  We haven’t talked about your job yet! Or NYC.

  Her job. Jessica felt unnaturally irritated that Aubrey hadn’t picked up on it. It was a joke. A sham. There was no job. It was a creation of some little old lady with way too much time on her hands and way too much money. You didn’t shape people’s lives as if they were children’s modeling clay just waiting to be molded!

  She logged off the computer, resisting a temptation to try a seedy site while she was signed in under Jamie’s name. What would happen? Alarms go off? An investigation into him? His reputation smirched? It would be a stupid, childish, “take that” gesture.

  As she got up from the computer, she saw him coming toward her.

  He was every bit as glorious as the first time she had laid eyes on him. It could make a woman weak when she desperately needed to be strong.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, as he came up to her. He took her shoulders in his hands. “Jessica? What’s happened? Did you get bad news from home?”

  “Bad news,” she said, shaking out from under his hands, “but not from home.”

  She turned away from him and went out the main exit, past Patience and Fortitude, the magic of meeting them dissipated.

  The magic of this city dissipated.

  Suddenly it didn’t seem energetic and vibrant and as if she could never get enough.

  It felt dirty and noisy and crowded and she just wanted to go home.

  “Jessica—” he put his hand on her shoulder and she spun around. “What’s happened?”

  His face, the genuine concern that darkened his eyes, made her feel as if she could be made of steel, and still melt. She had to be strong! She drew in a sharp breath and jerked out from under his hand.

  “Does the name Vivian Ascot mean anything to you?”

  “You know Ascot is part of our company name,” he said, his tone guarded.

  “I did know that. What I didn’t know was that a little old lady that I told you about last night—the one I helped at the music festival in Copenhagen—had that name. I knew her only as Viv. But you know her, don’t you?”

  “Not really. She’s mostly a silent partner. I met her once.”

  “The whole thing—the whole job offer—is some pathetic act of charity, isn’t it?”

  “No! Not as far as I know.”

  “What I want to know is what is your part in all of this?”

  “Look, I admit, at first I thought the old gal was off her rocker, recommending you for a job.”

  Off her rocker.

  “Was there a job? Or did she create one?”

  His look of discomfort was all the answer she needed. “What was your part in it?” she asked again. Jessica could hear something dangerous in her voice. And so could he.

  He hemmed uncomfortably.

  “Be honest with me,” she said, of the man that just last night she had thought was one of the most honest she had ever met. “If you are capable of it.”

  He flinched from that. “Okay. I wasn’t sure why she picked me to meet you. I admit I thought it was a punishment.”

  “Meeting me was a punishment?” she asked. Her voice was shrill enough that a few heads turned toward them.

  “That came out wrong.”

  “Did it, now?”

  “I crossed swords with her. I didn’t like her name for the music festival in Copenhagen. I don’t even remember it now.”

  “Carlene to Celine and Everything In Between.”

  “That’s it,” he said with a wince. “Really, it was so trivial I thought she’d forgotten it. But then when I got the order I was supposed to personally meet your plane and look after you when you got here, I thought it was payback time.”

  “So, Miss Ascot got me here on a false pretense, and I was some kind of revenge to you against some slight against her?”

  “That’s what I thought. But I was wrong, Jessica. Really wrong. When I saw you meet our clients, I realized she knew what she was doing. You have something. You—”

  “Oh, spare me. How would I know you were telling the truth?”

  He looked like she had slapped him, and she was glad!

  “Everything we did was about looking after me, wasn’t it? From the Russian Tea Room to The Phantom of the Opera—”

  “No, it wasn’t,” he told her tightly.

  She barely heard him. “Your grand obligation, your need to win back Viv after a fall from favor. You should be very pleased with yourself. I actually thought you were enjoying spending time with me. Last night? I thought I could trust you to tell me how it really is. Isn’t that a laugh?”

  “Jessica—”

  But she was beyond listening to him. “Even the clothes were part of the grand lie, weren’t they? Those clothes from Hennessey’s. How much were they really worth?”

  He was silent.

  “They were worth a fortune, weren’t they? You had Meredith make up a bill that coincided with what the insurance company said they would give me.”

  “It was just making you so happy. I wanted—”

  “Lies do not make people happy!” she said. “I’m an adult. Do you get that? I don’t need you, or anyone else, to look after me, to decide the course of my life for me.”

  His mouth opened to protest and then closed again.

  “When you get back to your apartment,” she told him, “you can box all those clothes up and take them back. Some things still have the tags on. Anything I wore can go to Goodwill. But I’ll pay for it all. I’ll send you the e-transfer as soon as I get home. I don’t want it anymore.”

  “Look, we’re both going back to the apartment, and we’re talking this thing through.”

  “Again, you’re going to make all the decisions, as if I’m a child who needs your guidance? What exactly is the point of talking it through?” She cocked her head at him. “You think I’m gullible, don’t you?”

  “That’s not how I would put it.”

  “And that’s not a no. I bet you’ve found this all quite hilarious—small-town girl’s infatuation with super suave you!”

  He cocked his head at her. He frowned. “Infatuation?” he asked softly.

  And then she realized she had said way too much, and revealed way too much. Unable to bear one more moment, afraid her anger was going to turn to tears, she turned and ducked into the crowd.

  “Jessica!”

  But she spotted the rarest thing you could ever see in New York City—an empty cab—idling at the curb, waiting for a customer.

  She jumped in and closed the door.

  “Where to?”

  She could see Jamie racing toward them. Where to? “Take me to the Canadian Consulate office,” she said, and the cab pulled away, leaving Jamie standing there. She was pleased to see the faint look of panic on his face.

  His charge had escaped him.

  She hoped he would have fun explaining that to Vivian Ascot!

  As the cab squeezed out into traffic, she turned and looked at Jamie one more time. And an awful truth nudged her.

  Was this really about Vivian Ascot?

  Or was this a convenient excuse to run? To not face her deepest fear.

  Which is? she asked herself. No answer came.

  * * *

  Jamie watched helplessly as the cab pulled away. He felt afraid for her. It was a big city and she had few skills for navigating it.

  He saw another cab coming, lifted his arm to flag it, and then, slowly put it down and turned away.

  It was more of the same, it was more of the very same thing she was accusing him of: not treating her like an adult, taking charge, protecting he
r. As much as it bugged him, he had to trust her to find her own way.

  He went to work and tried to clear Jessica from his mind. It was not that easy. Her parting words about infatuation clawed at his insides. She cared about him. She had trusted him. And he had blown it. He had blown it, even though he cared about her, too.

  Which was just proof he was unsuited for the whole serious relationship thing. He didn’t have a clue how to navigate any situation that required any depth. Jessica required depth.

  Why was he even thinking about her in terms of a serious relationship?

  He cared about her, yes, but he barely knew her. They barely knew each other. And yet, even as Jamie tried to convince himself of that, he sensed the lie.

  They knew each other. There had been a serious, serious connection between them. In that light, it was good that she was gone. No, more than good. It was great. She was the kind of woman who could make even a hedonistic self-centered guy like him put his life under the microscope. Look hard at it. Find it—and himself—lacking.

  She was the kind of woman that could make a man long for something more, feel his whole life was a desert of shallowness and meaninglessness, and that she held an answer, she could guide him to the oasis.

  Jessica Winton could do that after two days! He was glad she was gone.

  But when he entered his apartment after work, it seemed dark and lifeless and empty. He found himself in the bedroom she had used.

  Her scent was in the air again—lavender. It made him ache, which made him feel furious with himself. That fury propelled him to the closet. He would do exactly as she instructed. She wanted to be an adult? She wanted to be in charge? Fine, he’d send all that stuff to Goodwill, just as she requested. He’d do it right now—he’d banish her from his space and from his heart.

  He opened the door and saw that dress, the cocktail dress, in wisps of blue so insubstantial the dress might have been constructed of fog. It was the dress that she had worn to Phantom of the Opera and memory flooded him.

  Memories of every single moment they had shared crowded around him. He went into the closet and buried his nose in the fabric.

  He thought about how much she had loved that dress. Most women would have wanted it, would have taken it, especially if they were mad. All the women he’d ever met kept his gifts when it was over. But she wanted to give them away?