Cindy's Prince

by Bush, Christine

  “No, he did not. I don’t think he was trying to pick me up at all, insulting and unbelievable as that may be. In fact, come to think of it, he asked a lot of questions about YOU.” A finger aimed her way. “He said he had seen you, and thought you were a looker. He wanted to know where you worked, if I knew you, things like that.”

  The apprehension snapped back, and at a more intense level. “What did you say?” Cindy’s tone was sharp.

  Connie’s head swiveled quickly. “Nothing, of course, Cin.” She stared at her friend, and then figured out what was going on in her head. “I don’t think he’s anyone to worry about. He’s not at all the style of Jimmy’s friends. I think he’s just a lazy good-looking guy who thought you were cute. Believe me, I know how to not give information. But I’ll watch him.”

  Cindy was only partially mollified. “Okay, maybe I’m hypersensitive. Whatever Jimmy was into before he went away, it wasn’t good. Those guys looking for him really scared me.”

  “That’s the past, Cindy. Jimmy’s gone. Let it stay in the past.”

  She looked over at the kids laughing and romping in the park, their giggles filling the air, sturdy little bodies spinning and jumping, and said a silent prayer of thanks for their health and safety.

  And then, for a quiet moment, she thought of her dear, misguided sister, hoping she was at peace in heaven, and even dared to wish the same thing for Jimmy, too. And she hoped they knew she loved their children with her whole heart, and would make sure they had the healthiest, happiest life she could make for them, as long as there was a breath left in her body.

  ****

  By the time the week passed, and Saturday arrived, Cindy was relieved the unsettling reaction to Princeton Highfield had waned. The unwanted little flutter of butterflies in the pit of her stomach had lessened considerably. She was, she admitted fairly, still excited and a little nervous about tonight’s adventure.

  Cindy wore the same basic black dress, but had added a colorful silk sash around the waist, some dangling earrings of multicolored stones and her new shoes. The shoes fit great. No more blisters. She did a little dance around her bedroom as she twisted a lock of hair from each side and fastened it at the back of her head. She left the rest of her hair down, her curls softly tumbling to her shoulders.

  Emotions still swirled, excitement at the thought of seeing and hearing the Philadelphia Orchestra in the new Kimmel Center for the first time. Her admiration had been limited to peeking into the gracious lobby doors while passing on the sidewalk. George, for all his wealth and opportunity, hadn’t cared about music at all, and had never been interested in taking her there.

  Nervousness was woven into her feelings too, with the idea of meeting Princeton’s sophisticated parents, especially after his comments about their hopes he would someday marry the beautiful Haley.

  She stared into the mirror at herself, and then scrunched up her nose. A Haley, she was not. She was Cindy Castle, and that was good enough for her. It wasn’t that she was intimidated by the idea of meeting the elder Highfields. She could hold her own conversationally with anyone, though she had to admit she was a bit glad they weren’t starting with dinner. That would probably have been at some restaurant with fourteen eating utensils at the place setting. The prospect of creating some heinous faux pas with the shrimp fork was not entirely out of the question. A concert followed by a nice glass of wine she could handle.

  The concern came when she thought about Prince. Why had he been so determined to bring her to this event? Had she been invited as some sort of social statement to his parents? In her life, making a social statement had pretty much been a way of life, but it was usually pointed more toward hoping to bring society’s consciousness to a better level of caring. She wasn’t at all sure she was comfortable with being his “declaration of independence.” Time would tell.

  Because at the heart of the matter, she wanted to meet his parents. She wanted to see the people he had come from, the roots of his world. It was, she was sure, a very different world from her own. And she would not forget it. She wouldn’t fool herself, as she had once before, that she could be accepted in that world. But she wouldn’t be afraid. If anything, the meeting would show Prince, though maybe not as dramatically as Hannah’s eruption had done, their lives were centered around different things.

  As Cindy headed down the staircase, she promised herself she would keep it in perspective. She would keep the butterflies from fluttering, and enjoy the night.

  So much for good intentions. Halfway down the stairway, she realized he was already there, though she had not heard the doorbell ring. Connie had volunteered to babysit again. She knew her friend’s act was as much because she was absolutely nosey and wanted to witness every bit of drama. She loved her friend for it.

  Connie sat on the couch, with Jasmine and Hannah in her lap. Across the room, Prince sat in the easy chair, with Morgan perched on the arm next to him. Together, they were fidgeting with the wheels of a big yellow dump truck.

  Prince looked up, saw her, and gave a long low whistle. “Wow, Morgan, do you see that gorgeous chick?” He raised his eyebrows and then winked.

  Morgan made a gallant attempt at a whistle, raised his eyebrows, and winked too. “Hubba hubba!” the five-year-old added.

  Cindy looked from one to the other in amazement, and then grinned. “What exactly are you teaching that boy?”

  “Not a thing he didn’t already know. This young man is a fine judge of female beauty, I’d say.”

  The two males did a “high five,” nearly dropping the dump truck in the process.

  “It’s fixed, Aunt Cindy. Prince fixed the wheels.”

  Somewhere between the whistles, the winks, and the spinning wheels, she knew she was in deep trouble. Despite her best intentions, her better judgment, she was falling for the fashion model, jet-setting, Aston Martin-driving, dump truck-fixing man, with the mischievous grin. It was stupid, it was illogical, and it was true.

  Her stomach was acting up again, stirring up feelings and sensations not of her choosing. What on earth was happening? She held the railing as she came down the last few steps, glad no one could see the bones of her legs were more than a little bit wobbly, despite her exceptionally great shoes.

  Normal. She longed for normal. As they left, Connie studied her a little strangely, though not saying a word. Perhaps the wobbly legs had shown, after all. Her hormones were just betraying her, she rationalized. She would not let romantic fantasies and illusions erode her hard-fought common sense.

  The Kimmel Center was as gorgeous as she had imagined. Prince’s parents were already waiting in the elegant foyer. Both tall, slim, and silver haired, they greeted her with polite but curious smiles.

  “Mother, Father, this is Cindy Castle. My parents, Cindy.”

  His hand rested on the small of her back, and his touch was reassuring. Cindy could easily see where Prince had gotten his self assurance. The stately, well-dressed couple in front of her exuded dignity and privilege. “Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Highfield,” she said calmly, extending her hand.

  “Hugh and Celia. Our son speaks highly of you, Ms. Castle. We thought we knew so many of his friends.” The tone was cordial, but she was totally aware of how she was being scrutinized. Who is this young woman and where did she come from?

  “Please call me Cindy.” She breathed deeply, calming her nerves. She would not be concerned with what they thought. She was fine. And she was going to enjoy the evening. “I’m excited about this concert. It’s my first visit to the Kimmel Center.” They might have looked less surprised if she had said she had ridden to town on an elephant.

  “Your first time?” Hugh Highfield studied her, his critical glare betraying his distaste.

  “Cindy works at the library. And is raising two children. Not much time for the symphony so far. And it’s about time.” Prince squeezed her hand, and made a motion toward the grand staircase. “Come on, let’s get our seats so she can get the whole expe
rience.”

  They had, of course, the best seats in the house. The sound of the Beethoven Symphony was so exquisite, every nerve tingled with enjoyment. The view from the box, seeing even the minute movements of the musicians as they performed, was breathtaking. This, she thought when they reached intermission, was an adventure she would not have missed.

  Enchanted, she thanked Prince for bringing her, as they left the performance center and crossed the street to an upscale restaurant.

  “Absolutely worth it, just to see you so delighted, Cindy,” Prince laughed.

  “Puzzling you have never been to hear the orchestra before,” Hugh Highfield said a short time later, swirling a brandy snifter, and staring into its depths as if to find the answers to all pending questions in the universe. “Such cultural events have always been important in our family and social circle. I imagine your interests are a bit different.”

  Cindy could feel the telltale warmth flowing into her cheeks, no doubt about the implied criticism. She would meet the comment head on. After all, she was, a straight speaking kind of person.

  “I’m a hard-working girl, Hugh, and it takes all my effort to make ends meet. No box seats for me on a regular basis. Though I must admit, I love Beethoven. I’m happy when I can pay the bills and buy new shoes for the kids. And for myself,” she added with a grin, sticking out a foot. “Though it was a memory-making experience. Thanks for including me.”

  Hugh Highfield ignored the brandy, his gaze on her now. “You’re raising your niece and nephew, Princeton tells us. That is quite a challenge for a young woman, I must say. Very difficult.” He raised one eyebrow.

  “Very brave,” chimed in Prince’s mother. “Most people would not have taken on the responsibility. Other people’s problems. Quite a sacrifice on your part.”

  “I don’t think she feels that way, Mother.” Prince’s hand was tight around his glass. His face flashed a warning. He looked like he was ready to explode.

  “It’s okay, Prince,” Cindy said softly. “I understand where they are coming from.” She turned to the elder Highfields. “Please understand a few things. I do not consider it a sacrifice to parent my niece and nephew but an honor. I miss my sister dearly, but the situation being what it is, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have my priorities, you have yours.”

  She could sense Prince stiffening by her side, but she had to continue. “I am crystal clear on how our lives are different. Prince knows how I feel. I tell him regularly. You have nothing to fear. Common sense is my middle name. I have no Cinderella fantasy of being rescued, of trying to move into your world. In fact, I like my world.”

  She took a sip from her glass of wine, and looked Hugh Highfield straight in the eye. “Your son is safe, Mr. Highfield.”

  Hugh Highfield cleared his throat, “I didn’t mean—”

  “Your meaning was quite clear.”

  “That’s it.” Prince stood, guiding Cindy to her feet. “We’re done here. Having a drink with you two is like dodging scud missiles.”

  Hugh Highfield also stood, extending his hand to Cindy. “You are, Cindy Castle, a brave and outspoken young woman. I’ll give you that.”

  “Thank you, sir. I am who I am. I really enjoyed the concert. Goodnight, Celia, Hugh. Nice to meet you.” Her jaw was stiff and tight, but she managed a smile.

  And she had enjoyed meeting them, even if the result had made it finally clear to Princeton the reality of their differences.

  Still, she liked the feeling of his hand at the small of her back as he guided her out of the restaurant.

  “What an interesting girl,” she heard Celia Highfield exclaim as she moved away. “I like her.”

  “Be quiet, Celia,” barked Hugh Highfield. “This situation is untenable. That girl is trouble, and we have to nip this thing in the bud.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Looking back, Prince was nothing but glad the evening had ended. While he was happy he had kept calm, there had been one minute when he had seriously considered decking his own father in the middle of a restaurant. His emotions had been flaring, but he had kept them in check.

  His parents hadn’t acted in any way that had surprised him. No sense hiding his parents. When he planned the evening, he knew it would be a challenge. Might as well get the meeting over with. She was always stressing the differences in their lives. Might as well let her know he understood that issue. Might as well let her understand he had no intention of letting that issue stand in the way.

  Cindy didn’t, of course, believe him. The conversation on the way home had been intense.

  “Do you finally see what I’m talking about? We have different lifestyles. Different expectations. Different goals. And the kids—”

  “I am not like my parents, Cindy.”

  “I know that.” With kindness and concern, she had reached out her hand, touching his as it sat on the gearshift. An electric jolt had radiated through his body from that simple touch, energizing him, the response rocking him. She went on. “But in some ways, they are right. Not so much about the class thing, but about the kids. These are my kids, Prince, even if I didn’t biologically mother them. You don’t know a thing about kids. Raising kids is a total commitment.”

  Prince was silent.

  “There are things to consider. Important things. There’s just too much at risk.”

  “I’m also not like that George character, Cindy. You can trust me. We can try.”

  But she shook her head.

  He sensed the finality. His chest was tight, he throat burned. It hurt like hell.

  “There are always hurdles, Cindy. Every relationship has hurdles.”

  “But it’s just too much for me. For my life right now. The kids, my job, writing my books, these are the things I have to focus on right now. I can’t afford to lose myself in all of this. Please hear me. Can we be friends? Can we just be friends?”

  The thought shocked him, making him go still. Friends?

  Truth be told, Prince realized in one split second he had never really been friends with a woman in his life. The ever-charming, ever-talented, eligible bachelor Princeton Highfield was used to being the one who made the choices, the one who selected. He found himself grinning at the irony. Here was the one woman who mattered, and she was putting him off.

  But he had a choice here. She wasn’t telling him not to darken her door again. As ridiculous as the suggestion was to him, with feelings boiling all over the place, to think of himself as just a friend, he would take it. For now. “You know, in some circles, I’m considered quite a catch. You don’t do much for a guy’s ego, Castle. But if the role of friend is all you have to offer, I’ll accept.”

  He thought her eyes were glistening in the dim light of the car, but it could have been his imagination.

  As Prince pulled away from her curb, having seen her safely home with not even a little peck on the cheek, he had a moment of doubting his acceptance of her boundaries. His body ached, his hands clenched on the wheel. Even the thought of her stirred him up. He envisioned her sparkling eyes at the concert, her quirky, fun humor, the way she’d confidently stood up to his father. Cindy Castle was an amazing woman, and she had reached in and stolen his heart, without even trying.

  He let out a deep breath. He’d give her the space she needed, and come up with a plan to change her mind. No matter what it took. He squirmed in his seat as he pulled the Aston into traffic. He just hoped it wouldn’t take too much time. Prince wanted more, so much more. Nature was nature, and the thoughts he thought as the car whizzed down the boulevard were very far from simply “friendly.”

  ****

  Two hours later, he sat in a chaise lounge, out by his pool, staring into space. The night hadn’t gotten better. If he was into serious drinking, this would have been a good night to tie one on.

  When he drove home and entered the Highfield estate, there was a message waiting for him with the security guard. His father was waiting for him, needed to talk right away. />
  Regardless of being tired and aggravated, he knew a command performance when saw one. There was no escape. So he parked the Aston and jogged back to the main house, finding his father sitting quietly in the sedately lit study. The study was a masculine hideaway in the cavernous house, all dark wood, rich leather, and stately objects of art collected from around the world.

  Hugh Highfield sat in his leather armchair, still dressed from the evening at the orchestra. On the wall behind him, like a ferocious guard on duty, a tiger’s head was mounted high on the wall.

  “Father,” he said calmly. “I got your message. You said it was important.”

  Hugh put the book he had been reading carefully on the table beside him. “Hopefully a triviality. Hopefully not important. But necessary to address.”

  Prince watched him quietly. His eye again noticed the mounted tiger head, teeth gleaming in the lamplight. His father had often told the story about tracking and hunting the tiger on an African safari. The beast may look scary, but truth was, he was stuffed and mounted on the study wall. Probably, he thought, that tiger was the last living creature to stand up to Hugh Highfield. Until now. He took a deep breath, because he knew what was coming.

  “Lovely girl, the little librarian. And quite a champion, with her dedication to the orphaned little ones.”

  “Yes, she is. And their names are Morgan and Hannah.”

  Hugh Highfield flicked his hand. “Whatever. The point is this, Princeton. The time has long come and gone when you can afford to be involved in any sort of undesirable dalliance. I wanted to make a point. You are not to take this any further.”

  The gloves were off. Prince stared back at his father, his jaw tight. Undesirable? Dalliance? “My business, not yours, Father. We’ve had variations of this discussion before. My personal life, my love life, is not open for debate.”

  “Agreed.” His father’s gaze was dark and sharp. “There will be no debate. You will follow the path set. This ridiculousness is over. You will get in touch with Haley Carrington, do the right thing, and we can get to planning the wedding that is both logical, proper, and desirable. Immediately.”