Wyoming Cinderella

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Wyoming Cinderella Page 4

by Melissa Senate


  He grinned. I do believe. They’d finally have their chance.

  He’d definitely talk to Molly about Danica, try to get a little intel. He wouldn’t be unprofessional about it; he wouldn’t even mention his romantic interest. Maybe he’d ask Molly if she knew any great Realtors in town, and she’d mention Danica and offer a personal tidbit or three or ten. His plan was to stop in the realty and ask to meet with Danica about checking out houses in town. Who knew? They could go from a house to dinner and even to bed, depending how things went. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had a whirlwind romance.

  Daisy came back downstairs. “So, Zeke, about not planning to get married or have kids. You do know that Danica is your age, right? She probably wants to start a family.”

  He put the yearbook away. “Maybe I can be turned around by the right woman.” Maybe. He really wasn’t sure of that at all.

  “Hmm, I’m liking the idea of you and Danica together more and more,” she said with a grin. “I need a new niece or nephew.”

  He laughed. “There are already a ton of tiny Dawsons.”

  “There can never be too many.”

  He glanced up at an artful black-and-white photo of Daisy, Harrison and little Tony in the main barn, the goats behind them. He tried to imagine himself in that photo with a wife, a baby. But he couldn’t. Watching his family explode, the stories of his father’s first marriage, his parents’ divorce, his father’s anguish at losing his third wife to cancer, which had exacerbated his drinking. Everything that made Zeke leave Bear Ridge at eighteen and put himself through night school while working in corporate mail rooms during the day, watching how the bigwigs walked and talked and dressed and acted until he himself became one—all those memories were still deep inside him. He didn’t think about them much but he felt the blockage in his chest any time someone brought up marriage—and girlfriends had in the past. Not for me, not a family man, I don’t want kids...

  Could the woman of his dreams since middle school change all that? Maybe.

  Believe you can and you’re halfway there...

  He just wasn’t so sure he did believe it.

  Chapter Three

  At Molly’s previous job, personal items were discouraged from “cluttering desks” and limited to a single three-by-five framed photograph in a steel-gray frame to match the cubicle walls. Here at Dawson Solutions, Inc., her desk was her domain, per her new boss. When she’d arrived this morning, Zeke had welcomed her with an African violet plant in a pretty pot, told her to get herself acclimated and to meet him in his office in thirty. Oh, and he’d gotten her favorite coffee and had made a pot, so help herself. Swoon.

  With her Dawson Solutions, Inc. silver mug of delicious coffee, she’d taken herself on a tour of the office, opening cabinets, pawing through the manuals for the high-tech printer at the side of her desk, getting a feel for her new home away from home. Then she’d knocked on Zeke’s door, but he’d been on the phone, the corporate lingo mixed with down-home Western making her smile. Finally, she’d sat across from him, typing notes on the iPad he’d furnished her with (she also had a desktop and a thirteen-inch-laptop provided by the office) as he’d gone over the business and protocol and his vision for Dawson Solutions. She’d forced herself to focus on what he was saying instead of losing herself to his face, the melodic sound of his deep voice. Companies, big and small, hired Dawson Solutions to turn them around, either get them out of the red or simply help grow. This was essentially his job at the company he’d worked for in Cheyenne, and he’d developed a reputation of being the noncursing Gordon Ramsay of the business world.

  She’d spent the morning listening to him take calls with potential clients so that she understood how he operated and what his clients sounded like, and then he’d left for a meeting, leaving her to digest all that. She’d gone back to her desk, spun around on her high-tech ergonomic chair, almost unable to believe this was her life now. A new job at an interesting company with the man of her dreams as a boss. A boss who made the coffee, no less.

  And then, at lunchtime, he escorted her to Grill 307, a popular, upscale bar and grill about a quarter mile from the office. As he pulled out her chair, she almost felt like she was on a date with Zeke. He ordered the steak frites and she went for the swordfish tacos, and they talked about Bear Ridge and people they knew in common.

  “So it turns out I do remember you from school,” he said, poking at his salad. “I’m staying with my sister until I figure out what I want to do house-wise, and I mentioned to her that I hired someone from my graduating class, so she got out the yearbook.”

  He’d looked her up in the yearbook? Interesting. “Oh, God, that photo. Me in my Harry Potter phase—the round glasses.”

  He laughed. “We have a goat at the ranch named Hermione. And two chickens named Dumble and Dore.”

  She still couldn’t get over that she, Molly Orton, was capable of making Zeke laugh. How many times had she imagined herself chatting with him by their lockers or running into him around town, her saying something so clever that he laughed and then looked longingly into her eyes, telling her that he’d never noticed how pretty she was before and what was wrong with him? She’d had many daydreams along those lines.

  But she doubted he was thinking she was pretty right now. Personable, maybe.

  You should wear more makeup, one of her Converse County Singles dates had the gall to say to her over coffee.

  I’m fine as I am, she’d said, wishing she’d had a better comeback. Half of her always wanted to be polite and the other half longed to tell him to go jump in a lake.

  You’d probably have more luck if you did a little something with yourself, he’d gone on as if he were a prize.

  Look, bucko, you’re the one who approached me on the app.

  Converse County Singles: confidence buster. Though, granted, she did have a couple dates with men who were quite nice and polite and listened attentively and one of them had asked her on a second date. But then she’d been the rejecter, which had made her stomach hurt because she knew what getting rejected felt like: crud. But she hadn’t been attracted to the guy on any level. Why was dating so hard?

  Molly glanced at the women dotted around the restaurant. Most did seem glamorous, especially compared to her. Danica never left her house without adding beachy waves to her straight blond hair and she had an hour-long skin-care and makeup routine. But she’d been like that in sixth grade, loving CoverGirl as much as she loved working on their science experiments. In school, Molly had asked her most glamorous cousin, two years older and more a Danica than a Molly, how she could get girlier, and her cousin had responded that Molly was who she was and shouldn’t fight her natural self. Her natural self didn’t seem to interest the guys, though.

  Zeke was about to pop a cherry tomato in his sexy mouth when his gaze shot to the door, and he sat up a bit straighter. Molly glanced over. Uh-oh. Danica had come in with two of her colleagues from the realty. Zeke’s blue eyes were lit up like Christmas. Fooey.

  “Molly, hi!” came Danica’s voice as she passed by their table on the way to hers.

  Her bestie was in her gorgeous long red wool coat and she wore her usual high heels, her blond hair in a chic low ponytail over her shoulder.

  “Hi, hon,” Molly said, her heart plummeting. “You remember Zeke Dawson from high school, right? Zeke, Danica Dunbar.”

  As if she needed introduction.

  Danica’s gaze slid to Zeke and she smiled and extended her hand. “Sure I do. Captain of the baseball team, am I right? I think we had a couple classes together. History, I’m pretty sure.”

  “And Environmental Science,” Zeke added, shaking her hand. “Nice to see you again.”

  Well, there it was. They’d formally been reintroduced and now they’d skip off into the sunset together, and Molly wouldn’t even have a plus one for their wedding.

  Two m
en sitting at the table beside theirs got up to leave, both in their thirties, attractive, in suits. One of them said to Danica, “You probably remember me from high school, too, but I was a couple grades ahead. Captain of the hockey team and I ran cross-country. I’m now a doctor in private practice. Orthopedics.”

  Molly glanced at Zeke, whose eyes were now narrowed on the interloper. So were Molly’s. Hello? Remember me? Yoo-hoo? We were paired up as partners on a special project for Spanish 4? I exist. I’m not invisible.

  But the doctor only had eyes for Danica. “I’d love to take you out to dinner—Saturday night?” he continued. “Arabella’s?” he added, naming the one very expensive and superromantic restaurant in Prairie City, the bigger, more bustling town a half hour away.

  “I’d love to,” Danica said, “but, to be very honest, I’m just getting back out there in the dating world and have dates scheduled practically every night the next two weeks. Thank you, though.”

  Both the interloper and Zeke deflated, their strong shoulders lowering, their disappointment palpable.

  The doctor handed her his card. “Well, keep this. When you’re free, I’d love to hear from you. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  The two men left and Danica sighed. “Just once I’d like a guy to ask me out by saying, ‘We have so much in common, let’s go to x, y, z since we both love that.’ Ugh—I hate the focus on how I look.”

  Molly loved Danica, but where was her tiny violin, seriously?

  Then again, she knew what Danica meant. Her friend had been judged on her looks since she was a child, the apple of everyone’s eye because of her big blue eyes and sweet, stunning face and beautiful blond hair. Molly was invisible for being average and Danica had a spotlight because she was gorgeous. She could see where both would have their downsides.

  Danica’s coworkers were waving her over to their table. “Ooh, better get going. Nice to see you again, Zeke. And talk to you tonight, Mols.”

  The waiter was hovering with their entrees, and as he set down the plates, Molly felt herself relax, her appetite back and then some. Danica’s dance card was full—there’d be no room for anyone for at least two weeks, and maybe she’d find her Mr. Right among them. Maybe Zeke was safe. Correction: Molly was safe. For the next two weeks, anyway.

  “Believe that guy?” Zeke asked with an awkward smile as he stabbed a fry with his fork. “A little slick.”

  Oh, great. He was jealous.

  “She gets that a lot,” Molly said, taking a bite of a swordfish taco.

  “So you two are close friends?” he asked, swiping the fry in spicy garlic dip.

  “Besties since second grade.”

  He stared at her for a moment as if debating something, then leaned in close. “I’ll be honest. I’ve had a crush on Danica since eighth grade. And I totally get what she’s saying about her looks being the focus. A match is about chemistry, shared interests, values. Not the superficial. I mean, maybe attraction alone will suffice for a couple dates, but not a relationship.”

  Hmm. Interesting. “So you do want a relationship?” she asked. “You did say you’re not interested in marriage or kids.”

  He cleared his throat as if either giving himself time to come up with an answer or because she’d struck a bit of a nerve. “I think it’s possible that the right woman could change my mind.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. That you’re open.” She felt her cheeks flush. “I mean, I’m divorced and should be all bitter but I feel hopeful about love and romance and maybe getting remarried one day, despite not exactly having success with Converse County Singles. Men want the Danicas of the world.”

  He stared at her again and now she wished she could take it all back. Why on earth had she said any of that? She made herself sound like the chopped liver she was.

  “I think what anyone wants is the right person,” he said, cutting a piece of his steak. “Maybe Danica is and maybe she isn’t, but I have to get to know her to determine that, right? And since she’s booked solid for two weeks, that’s not going to happen unless I make it happen.”

  Molly swallowed. “How would you do that?”

  “By asking you for pointers?” he said. “If you’re comfortable with that, I mean. She just said she wants a guy to ask her out because of common ground. So maybe it would help if I knew a little about her, her hobbies, that kind of thing. I’m sure something she’s interested in will match with something I’m interested in, and I can start from there. And if she has any pet peeves, I can avoid making them. You know, those little things that drive you nuts.”

  “Well, we definitely all have those,” she said, her heart plummeting. She could forget about Zeke noticing her when his heart was completely taken with Danica.

  She took another bite of her excellent swordfish taco, her appetite diminishing by the second.

  “Name three of yours,” he said, surprising her. She’d been getting used to their lunch conversation being the Danica Hour, but now it had come back to her.

  “Just three?” she quipped. “I have tons.”

  But the biggest? When the man I’m secretly in love with is secretly in love with someone else.

  “Like when people talk to the TV,” she added. “Ugh. I hate that. How am I supposed to hear the show?”

  He laughed. “I talk to the TV! Like ‘Come on, you clearly blind ump—he was safe! Gimme a break!’”

  She grinned. “Yeah, like that. Or during scary movies when the person you’re watching with says, ‘Don’t go in there! No, don’t it.’ Good grief. Can I watch in peace?”

  He chuckled and drank his iced tea. “What else?”

  She put down her fork. “When people hum or sing while I’m talking to them. Hello? Are you listening? People who drive the speed limit in the fast lane. Close talkers. Memes that I don’t understand. Interrupters. Grammar police. Being a jerk and then saying, ‘I was just kidding, jeez.’ People who start sentences with, ‘No offense, but...’ You do mean offense! Oh, and people who forget my name—hi, Milly, Mara, Moira.”

  Zeke was laughing hard, which puffed her up a little. She might not be the woman of his dreams but she could make him laugh. Except you know who else had a great sense of humor? Danica. “I have just one pet peeve,” he said.

  Molly leaned forward, dying to know.

  “When my siblings bring up embarrassing stories about me,” he said. “‘Hey, Zeke, remember when you cried like a baby when Fluffers the chicken died? Hey, Zeke, remember how you got lost on the ranch and the police found you in a tree?’”

  “Isn’t that what siblings are for? Ragging on you? Keeping you humble? Though I am an only child. But I have my cousins to rag me.”

  He nodded. “I can definitely always count on my siblings. No matter what. That’s really what got me back to Bear Ridge.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, taking the last bite of her taco.

  He glanced up at her, as if he hadn’t realized he’d said that aloud. “Well, a relationship went deep south in Cheyenne. It was the final straw. I’d feel like hell and go walking around the city to try to shake it off, to get filled up somehow, and nothing worked. But every time I’d come visit the ranch, see my family, hold one of my little relatives, I’d feel connected. I finally realized that I not only wanted my family around me, that I needed them.”

  Aww. “I definitely know what you mean. When I was going through my divorce, my parents and nana and aunts and uncles and cousins all rallied around me. I was never alone. Three a.m., I could call my mom sobbing my eyes out and she’d not only not hang up on me, she’d come over with Ben & Jerry’s.”

  He smiled. “Family is everything.”

  Yeah, family is everything. So why wouldn’t you want to build one of your own. A wife. Children. That’s what it’s all about.

  He cleared his throat, which she was beginning to see was his wa
y of seguing from “how did we get on this too-personal level” to a lighter note. He began telling her about Hermione, the runaway goat at the ranch, and how there would be many Dawsons climbing Clover Mountain looking for the escape artist.

  She liked the funny stories. But she wanted to get down and dirty personal. Share everything. Talk about everything. She loved that they could and had—before he’d remembered that she was actually his admin and adopted a more professional manner, even sitting back more.

  The waiter came over to clear their plates and take dessert orders.

  “I say we split something decadent for your first day,” he said. “You pick.”

  As if she needed more evidence that he was her kind of guy. “Mocha-fudge cheesecake, for sure,” she said. “Like chocolate cake or apple pie could touch that.”

  “Agree. You’re my kind of gal, Molly Orton.”

  She almost gasped. She’d been thinking the exact same thing.

  See, she wanted to say. We are the ones who have everything in common. She’d spent a few summer vacations at his family’s guest ranch back when his grandparents ran it, and Danica wasn’t a fan of “roughing it.” Her friend liked hotels with all the amenities—so did Molly—but Danica didn’t love the smell of horses or the sound of roosters at four thirty in the morning. Plus, from their chitchat on the way to the restaurant, Molly had learned she had the following in common with Zeke: they both loved Mexican and Indian food, old movies, hikes on breezy days, swimming in oceans, lakes, ponds and pools, the Wyoming Cowboys—their local minor league baseball team—seventies rock and family get-togethers.

  Family is everything...

  Every minute in Zeke’s company, she fell just a little bit harder for him.

  “So give me one piece of advice in wooing Danica,” he said, taking out his wallet to pay the bill.

  Humph. She’d been hoping their easy conversation and common interests would have him focused more on her, but Molly was once again the Amazing Invisible Woman. Good for advice and taking care of business. Otherwise: didn’t exist.

 

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