Ms. Cinder's Prince: A Middleton Prep Novella

by Laura Ann

  His dad grabbed the remote and started searching for a football game. After settling on his favorite team, there was silence for a few minutes.

  Uninterested in the game, Christian closed his eyes and prepared for a nap. A throat cleared and he groaned, knowing his father had decided it was time for ‘The Talk’.

  “Well, son...I noticed you didn’t bring anyone for dinner.”

  “Nope. Not this time.” Short and sweet, keep the answers short and sweet. Then maybe he will leave it be.

  Another few moments of silence passed before his father asked, “Why not?”

  He sighed. “Because I didn’t have anyone to bring Dad.”

  “So get someone. Aren’t there any attractive women at that school you teach at?” His dad propped his feet up on the coffee table, settling further into the couch.

  “I’m sure there are, but that doesn’t mean I have to date all of them.”

  “Not all of them, just one. I want grandkids before I die. You know, the pitter patter of little feet? Someone to bounce on my knee and tell stories to. You’re twenty eight years old for heaven’s sake! I had two kids by your age.”

  Christian felt himself blush as he thought of who he would like to have be the mother of those children. He could just picture a little three year old girl running down the hall. She’ll have blonde hair, large blue eyes and a perfect rose bud mouth...

  “Ah ha!” His father shouted.

  Christian nearly jumped out of his seat. “Wha-what?” He berated himself for daydreaming. It wouldn’t do to tell his dad about Charlotte. His father would have her in a wedding dress before his son ever even said ‘hello’.

  “I see ya grinning to yourself over there. Someone has caught your attention. Who is it?”

  Christian straightened his bowtie and smoothed his shirt, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That, son, is a bunch of bologna. Now answer the question, who is she?”

  “Absolutely not!” Christian pushed the footrest in and sat forward, pointing his finger at his dad. “If I decide to pursue her, I will do it my own way and in my own time! Without your interference.”

  “Truth of the matter is, boy, you need me. You don’t have the courage to approach a woman and you know it. You always run the other way when you see one coming.” His father crossed his arms and smirked.

  “I am perfectly capable of handling the situation, thank you very much. Besides, you would scare her off, she’s sweet and shy.”

  “Heaven help us!” His dad rolled his eyes. “If she’s anywhere near as shy as you, you two will never talk, just watch each other from a distance. I’ll never get grandbabies that way. You actually have to—”

  “Stop!” Christian felt himself go red again, while his dad raised at eyebrow at his raised voice. “I am fully aware of what is required in order to provide you with grandchildren.”

  “Well I’m glad we won’t have to have that talk, but I still think you need to give me her name. I’ll sweet talk her for you and then you can take it from there.”

  “Seriously Dad, no! I will do this my way!”

  “So you’re actually going to approach her?”

  “Well...yes! I am! I already had plans to ask her to dinner.” Christian hoped his face hid the lie well. Asking Charlotte to dinner scared the pajeebies out of him.

  “Ask her to dinner, huh?” He rubbed his chin as he thought it over. “You’re really going to do it?”

  “Er...yes?” Wait, what?

  “Wonderful!” His dad stood and came over, slapping Christian on the back and nearly knocking him out of the chair. “I’ll hold you to it.” He plopped himself back down in front of the football game.

  “Hold me to what?” Christian asked in a daze.

  “Yer promise to ask her out.”

  “I didn’t promise.” Christian could feel himself starting to hyperventilate.

  “Course ya did! You said you were going to do it, so you will. I know you’re a man of your word. I’ll be excited to hear a report on how it goes.” He looked like the cat who caught the canary.

  “Conniving old coot.” Christian muttered under his breath, while deep chuckles came from the couch.

  CHAPTER 5

  Okay, I can do this. Charlotte got out of her car, holding tight to her new pencil skirt so she didn’t flash anyone as she stood. She looked down, admiring at her new, ruby- red wedges. How could anyone possibly resist such cute shoes, and on such a good sale? She opened the back door and grabbed her supplies for the day. Rory had dragged Charlotte all over town after Thanksgiving and had taken a sizable chunk out of Charlotte’s savings account. Still, I have to admit I feel nice today. She gave her head a little shake, enjoying the feel of her shortened strands floating around her shoulders. Unable to completely let go of her long hair, Charlotte had okayed a trim with chunky layers for more body and movement.

  Just as she reached the door to the school, she heard a shuffling noise behind her. Spinning around, she saw Mrs. Merryweather working her way up to the doors as well.

  “Hello dearie! Aren’t you looking wonderful this morning?”

  “Thank you Mrs. Merryweather. You also look nice.” Charlotte smiled at the older woman.

  “Aren’t you just as sweet as sugar. Now here, let me help you get that door.”

  “Thank you so much.” Charlotte proceeded through the door and turned left towards her classroom. “I’ll see you later!” She called over her shoulder.

  “We’ll have that talk at lunch, dear.” Mrs. Merryweather called.

  “Um, okay.” What ‘talk’ is she referring to? Charlotte shook her head and picked up her pace down the hall. “Oh no...” she groaned when she saw who was coming around the corner in front of her.

  “There you are!” Mrs. Tremain bustled up to Charlotte and towered over her accusingly. “I can’t believe how late they let you arrive for your jobs here. Disgraceful and lazy.”

  Charlotte felt her face heating up and did her best to reply in a kind way. “Mrs. Tremain, school doesn’t begin for another 45 minutes, I—”

  “Yes well,” she huffed. “I needed to drop the boys off early this morning and you weren’t there. I have errands to run around the school you know.”

  Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. She did her best to keep her voice kind but firm. “Mrs. Tremain, you never asked me if—”

  “Of course, this is all stuff for the PTO, important business you know. Principal Grimm himself has asked me to do this. Should we take the matter up with him?” Her pinched face reminded Charlotte of when a baby sucks on a lemon.

  Sighing, she simply shook her head and started walking again.

  “The boys are already in the room. See that you take good care of them.”

  Charlotte didn’t acknowledge the comment. If you can be anything, be kind. She chanted her favorite saying to herself. Times like these required a reminder or two. As she neared her classroom she could hear muffled shouting. What have they gotten into now?

  Opening the door, she gasped. She could see sprays of water shooting out of the bathroom door. Dropping her stuff, she rushed over. “What in the world is going on here?” She called over the boys’ noise.

  Jackson was laughing so loudly he never even turned at her voice.

  Andrew, however, turned around and said, “Oh crap!”. He frantically tried to stop the flow of water his brother was still splashing around the bathroom. In his haste, he wrenched the handle too hard and broke it off, the spray doubling in volume. Jackson then tried stopping the water with his hands, but it sprayed towards Charlotte, soaking her brand new clothes and hairdo.

  “Ahhh!” she cried as the spray hit her.

  Her scream caught Jackson’s attention, who turned at the sound and cried out when he saw Ms. Cinders. Andrew, startled at his brother’s scream, soon added his own voice to the mix.

  DOWN THE HALL CHRISTIAN shifted from foot to foot as he tried to figure out a way to get rid of Mrs. Tr
emain so he could continue his mission to speak to Ms. Cinders.

  “I was making freezer meals the other day and I thought of you while I was chopping the raw chicken.” Mrs. Tremain explained in a sickeningly sweet voice.

  Christian tried to keep from cringing as she stepped forward and took ahold of his forearm with her clammy hand. Her tight grip felt like cold and caused a shiver of aversion to run up his spine.

  “I just knew you would appreciate a home cooked meal. After all, you bachelors are always so useless in the kitchen. It’s a wonder you don’t just snatch up the first available woman who can cook. One might just be standing right in front of you” She batted her eyelashes.

  Is she serious? “Thank you Mrs. Tremain, but—" he cut off as he heard a distressed cry down the hall. When it was quickly followed by two extremely high pitched screams he took off to follow the sound.

  “Wait! Christian, I have a casserole for you!” Pulling a tinfoil dish out of her bag she chased after him, her weight made her slow than him and she huffed as she hurried down the hall.

  Skidding to a stop in front of Charlotte’s door, he threw it open and burst into the classroom. A large puddle of water and continued screams were coming from behind the bathroom door. Throwing open the bathroom door brought a scene he never would have imagined.

  The Tremain boys were screaming bloody murder, spinning circles in the small bathroom and were soaked to the skin. Water dripped from the walls and ceiling, puddling on the floor. Directly in front of him was the bent over form of his crush. Her form fitting pencil skirt outlined a womanly figure that brought a blush to his face and caused the temperature of the room to spike several degrees. Pulling at his bowtie, he struggled to move his eyes from the sight, when he was slammed into from behind.

  “Oh! Excuse me, Christian!” Mrs. Tremain wrapped her arms around him as if to steady herself, the tinfoil bundle still gripped in one hand.

  STARTLED AT THE INTERRUPTION, Charlotte stood and spun towards the door. “Oh!” She cried when she saw Christian standing at the door in Mrs. Tremain’s arms. Her heart sank. He hadn’t moved out of Mrs. Tremain’s embrace, but stood still, gaping at Charlotte, his cheeks bright as tomatoes in the sun.

  Tears welled in her eyes. I must look like a drowned rat. With a shaky sigh, she bent over and finished turning off the emergency water valve. It took all her courage to stand back up and face her audience, knowing her hair was plastered to her head, her blouse was nearly transparent and her make up was running down her face. Crossing her arms to try and retain as much modesty a possible, she squared her shoulders and turned around again.

  “Mrs. Tremain, I’m afraid the boys will no longer be able to stay in here this morning. Would you kindly take them with you on your errands. I will clean this up and prepare the classroom for school.” Her voice shook, but she couldn’t help it. The heartache, embarrassment and sorrow churning through her were almost more than she could handle.

  Dropping her arms from Christian, Mrs. Tremain nearly sent him flying as she thrust the casserole into his chest and shoved him aside to get into the enclosed space. Christian barely managed to grab the package before it fell to the ground. Taking the boys by their arms, she pulled them behind her in a protective stance. “I don’t know who you think you are, Ms. Cinders, but this is a disgrace. Women like you shouldn’t be allowed to teach. You can be assured I will be discussing this with Principal Grimm. Exposing young boys to such antics is unheard of! You are to be an example of intelligence and moral character. Utterly shameful.” She was tall and wide, towering over Charlotte and it took all her willpower to not cower at the tall woman’s bullying tactics.

  As Mrs. Tremain left the bathroom, she paused beside Christian, and smiled at him. “I hope you enjoy the meal Mr. Prince. I’d be happy to make one for you in person if you would like?”

  “Uh...thank you...but...” His voice trailed off, unsure of how to handle the woman who spun from terrifying to flirt in 0.2 seconds.

  “That’s alright, you think about it. I need to go take care of my darlings, anyway.” Glancing over her shoulder, she glared one last time at Charlotte and marched out the door.

  Charlotte put a fist to her mouth and did her best to hold in a sob, her body shook with the effort. The stress of Mrs. Tremain’s bullying and Christian’s presence at her disaster were simply too much.

  “Oh dear...uh...Ms. Cinders, I...” Christian reached out his arms, only to notice the wrapped bundle in his hand. Setting it on a desk, he took a couple of steps in her direction, but she shook her head and backed into the corner. He stopped, unsure of how to handle the situation. Even wet she is beautiful. Those red lips, and pale skin... The desire to pull her into his arms and comfort her was overwhelming, but it was obvious she would not welcome his advances.

  Softly the classroom door opened and Christian shot his gaze that direction. “What happened here dearies?” Mrs. Merryweather’s perky voice preceded her through the door. “Oh my.” She exclaimed as she saw the mess.

  When Mrs. Merryweather got close enough to look in the bathroom, she gasped and put her hands over her mouth. “Oh darling! What happened?” Rushing past Christian, she pulled Charlotte into a hug and started rubbing her back.

  Charlotte finally let go of the tears she was holding back and started sobbing on Mrs. Merryweather’s shoulder.

  Christian felt helpless, but was unsure of how to rectify the feeling. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started inching towards the door.

  “Thank you Mr. Prince. I will take care of her.” Mrs. Merryweather called out.

  Nodding, he left the room. His shoulders were slumped and he dragged his feet as he went. It took all his willpower not to turn around and push Mrs. Merryweather out of the way so he could be the one holding the lovely teacher. However, the anxious look in Charlotte’s eyes made him keep moving forward. How am I going to get her to give me a chance? She was not happy I was there at all. His thoughts continued to churn as he headed toward his classroom to get ready for his students.

  As he passed by the office he saw one of the secretaries putting up Christmas decorations on the office bulletin board. Secret Santa! That’s it! I can win her over with the Secret Santa gift exchange. He smiled and his posture straightened as he thought over the idea. Let the planning begin.

  “NOW, NOW SWEETIE, LET it all out. It’ll be okay.” Mrs. Merryweather continued to murmur and sooth the distraught woman.

  “He s-s-saw me! After—” she hiccuped,” after all my work! And that woman...she...she said...” She stood and looked in the bathroom mirror. Moaning at her image, she covered her face with her hands.

  “Oh now...it can’t be as bad as all that! Don’t listen to that ridiculous biddy. She’s just jealous.” The plump secretary pulled Charlotte’s hands down and gently started to wipe her tear streaked face with a tissue. “It will all be alright, we’ll just have to find another way to get his attention.”

  Charlotte snapped to attention. “How do you know who I’m talking about?” She sniffed and searched around for something to blow her nose with.

  “Well, it wasn’t that hard to figure out dear. Why else would you he disappear every time he sees you?”

  “Um...okay.” Charlotte replied weakly.

  “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and then we can talk business.” Mrs. Merryweather turned around and headed for the cupboards in the classroom. “Where do you keep the extra paper towels?”

  “Second cupboard from the left, lower half.” Charlotte replied. She found the courage to look in the mirror above the sink once more and tried to hold in a cringe at the picture she made. There was no hope for saving her hair today. With a dejected sigh, she walked to her bags that she had dropped by the door and fished out a ponytail holder and went back to the bathroom. Wrenching her fingers through the wet tangles, she finally pulled it into a semblance of a bun and called it good. It’s definitely better than what I looked like when HE was here.

  Glanc
ing down at her shirt, she peeled it away from her skin with a slurping noise. I can’t wear this with the children, you can see right through it.

  “Run down the hall and dry it under the electric dryer sweetie. I’ll take care of the water on the floor.” The older lady creaked and cracked as she got down on her knees to start mopping up the puddle on the floor.

  “Oh no! Mrs. Merryweather please let me do that! You shouldn’t be on the floor like that!” She reached down to grab the secretary’s elbows and help her up, but her efforts were rebuffed.

  “You’re only as old as you feel, and I feel like a young’un! Now scoot, before someone else sees you.” Mrs. Merryweather made a shoo-ing motion with her hands and sent Charlotte out the door.

  “Okay...if you’re sure?”

  “Absolutely. My sister Flora didn’t teach me how to trim a rose for nothing!” Her chin jiggled as she laughed at her joke.

  “Oh...” What in the world does that mean? Never mind, better just get my blouse dried.

  Adults and a few students were starting to filter into the hallways, forcing Charlotte to keep her head down and dart to the teacher’s bathroom as quickly as possible. Once inside, she sighed, and pressed on the hand dryer, turning the opening up towards her shirt.

  Ten minutes later, she was back in her classroom and stunned at what she saw. The floor and walls were dry and sparkling clean. Her heart sang, as it was exactly how she preferred it to be. Her bags were sitting on top of her desk and when Charlotte approached them she found a note.

  Called maintenance and your sink is already fixed. Can’t have those little ones running up and down the hallway, now can we? In fact, we really shouldn’t have anyone running up and down the hallway. Causes such a mess. And when things are messy, we never get our heart’s desire, do we? After all, my Aunt Dorcas didn’t find her favorite garden gnome until she cleaned up that dreadful kitchen. Clean counters make such a difference don’t they? I just love a happy ever after.