Her Own Fairy Godmother

by Marie Higgins

  He’d stop, turn, and look her way. Their gazes would meet and cling like two lost lovers finally becoming one. His fingers would touch his lips before blowing a kiss her way. She’d catch it and hold it against her heart. He’d motion with his head for her to come into his office. She’d follow like a person spellbound, not even feeling her feet touch the ground as she floated to him. The door would close, making their meeting private, and he’d take her in his arms...

  A loud clank from down the hall jolted her from her daydream. She rushed out of his office and stopped, listening to see where the sound had come from.

  She sighed. It was the old furnace kicking on. But it didn’t matter. It was time to hurry to her desk before someone came.

  Lost in thought, she smacked her nylon-clad toes against the wall. Holding a curse under her breath, she hopped around on one foot and grabbed her throbbing toe. Tears stung her eyes and she gritted her teeth against the pain.

  She placed her foot on the floor and limped back to her desk, scanning the offices on her way. Whew. She hadn’t been caught.

  Once at her desk, she turned on her computer. Needing to appear as if she’d been working, she scattered a few papers over the top. That’s all she needed was for Fran to think she wasn’t busy. That woman would find any kind of job to give Cyndi. She kept waiting for the day the boss would ask her to clean the fireplace. Thank goodness this building didn’t have one, or Fran would certain assign that task to Cyndi.

  Her thirty-two co-workers all arrived within a half hour, but she waited for one in particular. When Max walked in the station, the whole room seemed to beam just as it used to do in high school. And like in yesteryear, people greeted him with waves. He nodded, giving them his ear-to-ear smile. She sighed happily.

  He stepped into his office with his coffee cup in one hand and his briefcase in the other. She leaned forward on her desk, resting her elbows on top as she stared at him through his office window and waited.

  His head turned toward the box as he set his cup and briefcase on his desk. After hanging his suit-coat on the rack in the corner, he moved back by the box and slowed his step. His gaze dropped to the candy. She held her breath. Her hands shook so badly she clasped them together and held them between her knees.

  He flipped his finger against the card, opening it wider. He stared at the card for a few seconds then turned and looked out his office door.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks and she shuffled through the papers on her desk, hoping to appear busy. She picked one up as if studying it, peeking over the edge at him.

  He didn’t look her way, and her heart sank. The dream wouldn’t happen the way she’d imagined. Not yet, anyway.

  When he sat behind his desk and turned on his computer, she scowled. Isn’t he going to eat a piece of chocolate? He has to!

  Glancing at the clock every five minutes didn’t help the hour pass any quicker. Every time he moved from his desk, she jumped and her heart quickened in hopes of him eating a piece. He remained impassive to the chocolates.

  After a few more hours crept by with her mind everywhere except where it should be, she growled and pushed away from her desk. She needed a soda, or something that would keep her mouth and hands busy.

  The clicking of high heels echoed on the floor near her desk before she smelled Amanda’s heavily perfumed body-spray. Her supervisor plopped her butt down on the edge of Cyndi’s desk, crinkling a paper beneath her silk skirt.

  A smile stretched wide across the other woman’s face. Now was not the time for grins. Amanda’s long, thin leg thumped against the side of the desk, swinging in an uncalculated rhythm. The incessant noise irritated Cyndi’s already frayed nerves, like fingernails grating down a chalkboard.

  “So, Cyndi. Have you talked to Max lately?”

  Cyndi scowled. “Lower your voice. I don’t want the whole office hearing you.”

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “Why? You are after Max, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe, maybe not, and if I am, it’s my business, not the office’s concern.”

  “Just wondered if you wanted my help. I’d rather see you go out with him than Anastasia or Drizella.” Amanda extended her arm, her attention moving to her cherry red manicured nails as she waggled them through the air.

  Cyndi took a deep breath and in her mind counted to ten. Although it made her happy to know her friend wanted to help, now wasn’t the best time. She was still too anxious about Max not eating the chocolate.

  “Thanks, Amanda. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

  Amanda shrugged and slid off the side of the desk. “Holler if you need me.” She turned and slinked back around the corner toward her own desk.

  For the next several hours, Cyndi’s gaze skipped toward Max’s desk. The box of chocolates still remained untouched. His hand passed right by them when he reached for his coffee, and she wanted to scream when he didn’t pick up a piece of the candy and plunk it into his mouth.

  By the end of the day, her chest burned with a frustrated cry she couldn’t wait to release. What was wrong with him? He could at least eat one.

  She kept her eyes on him until after the six o’clock evening’s broadcast, and still, he had yet to eat the candy. He gathered his personal items then stopped and looked at the box of chocolates. Her heart sped and she caught her breath. He picked up the box and walked out of his office. He scanned the area, and then his gaze rested on her.

  Wearing a smile, he headed her way. The closer he came, the hotter her face burned.

  “Hey, Cyndi? Do you like chocolate?”

  She swallowed hard. “Umm...yes.”

  He set the box on her desk. “You can have these. I’d hate to see them go to waste.”

  She nodded, opening her mouth to ask him why he didn’t eat them, but Ted came up behind Max and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You did a great job on the air, Max.”

  Max turned and walked away with Ted—and just like that, he was gone.

  Over his shoulder, he called out his goodbyes, passing the others on his way out the door. Tomorrow was his day off, and she’d have to wait yet another day to see what other of the ten ways she could try on him.

  In momentary defeat, she grabbed the box of chocolates, her purse, and her briefcase and hurried toward the door. Her bottom lip drooped lower, and she was sure she’d step on it sooner or later. She rushed through the hallways and then outside in the parking lot for her car, worried that Fran, Ana, or Driz would find her and give her more work.

  The time it took to drive from work to home passed quickly. She didn’t even remember how she’d arrived at her townhouse. The place seemed darker than usual, but she brushed off the prickly sensations raising the hairs on the back of her neck as she climbed from the car.

  The cool night breeze fanned her face as she turned and walked toward the front door. She dug through her purse to find the keys she’d just had before leaving the car, balancing the box of chocolate in her arm. When she realized she had too much in her arms, she stopped to set the box down, but before she could turn, a crack resounded through the air. Above her, the porch light bulb shattered. Tiny pieces of the glass flew everywhere. She yipped and jumped back to keep from getting cut. The box of candy and her keys slipped from her hand and hit the ground. What had just happened?

  She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkness so she could locate her keys. The streetlight was semi hidden behind a tree, making it almost impossible to see. She used her foot to do her looking, moving it around the porch. Something jingled next to her shoe, and she sighed.

  As she bent to retrieve her keys, a shiver ran up her spine and teased the hairs at the base of her neck. Moments later, the wind had stopped blowing on her face. Her heart sank, her breathing slowed. Somebody was beside her.

  Could it be Damien Giovanni again?

  She scowled and jumped up, ready to face her neighbor. A hand snaked out from behind her and clamped over her mouth. The person shoved her face against th
e brick wall. Pain shot through her skull and she cried out. Damien wouldn’t have done that! The hand pressed against her mouth and nose didn’t smell anything like Damien’s intoxicating scent. Instead, the odor reminded her of raw onions—and unwashed clothes.

  Cyndi’s body shook and her heart had almost given up beating for lack of oxygen. Her limbs even weakened.

  “Listen lady,” the man’s raspy voice whispered in her ear. “Do as I say and you won’t get hurt.”

  She managed a small nod.

  “You stay against the wall just like you are now, and I’m going to reach down and get your purse.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded again.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he removed his hand, but the pressure from his body remained against her. She peeked over her shoulder, but all she could see was his black garb, and the black ski-mask hiding his identity.

  Was this really happening? Tears stung her eyes, panic consuming her.

  He opened her purse with one hand, but kept glancing up at her, his free hand extending toward her as if to ward off an attack. From what she could tell, he didn’t have any kind of weapon. Her breaths quickened, her lungs burned to keep in air.

  “Lady, where’s your wallet?”

  Collecting the courage she’d didn’t think she had, she raised her foot and kicked as hard as she could. Her shoe connected with his hip and knocked him down. She turned, jumped over him, and cried out for help as loud as she could.

  The man coughed, but he was faster than she’d anticipated. His hand caught her ankle. She tripped and landed on her knees, her hands caught the cement in effort to break her fall. Pain ripped through her, and her wrenched muscles screamed in agony.

  He hissed and scrambled toward her.

  She rolled to her back and brought her legs up to kick at him again. From the shadows, a new form appeared. Like a scene from a Superman movie, another man flew across the porch and landed on top of her attacker, knocking him to the ground. She crawled out of their way.

  The men rolled, but the larger one pinned her attacker on the grass. Her Superman raised his fist and plowed it into the other’s face. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the air, and she cringed. Hopefully, it was the other man’s nose and not her rescuer’s hand.

  Through the breeze, she detected a man’s musky cologne. Damien. Her heartbeat accelerated.

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “Cyndi, my cell phone is clipped to my waist. Call the police.”

  On hands and knees, she scrambled to him. With shaky limbs, she tried to find the cell. Her hands brushed across his tight stomach then found the cool plastic of the phone.

  Her hand trembled when she pushed three numbers...9-1-1.

  When the voice came over the other end, she let out a ragged breath. “This is Cyndi Randall at 4010 Meadows Drive number six. I’ve been attacked. Send someone quick.”

  While a squeaky-voiced woman on the other side of the line probed for more details, Cyndi’s gaze remained leveled on Damien. The man beneath him struggled, but her neighbor tightened his grip and pushed the other man’s head into the ground. Through it all, Damien glanced her way, nodding and giving her a reassured wink.

  The police arrived within minutes. After they had questioned Cyndi and Damien, and then hauled her attacker to jail, Cyndi finally crumbled. Tears gushed from her eyes. Damien gathered her in his strong arms and she rested her head on his chest. The heat from his body surrounded and warmed her, but it didn’t diminish the sobs wracking her body.

  Damien had actually saved her. She owed him her life. She nibbled on her lip and glanced up at him. Her protector had dealt with the situation and was her support. Had she been wrong about him? Had he been the good guy all this time and she’d just refused to believe it?

  He helped her into her townhouse and locked the door. Treating her as if she were a precious piece of glass, he walked her to the couch and assisted her as she sat. He squatted in front of her.

  “Mí amore.” He swiped a lock of hair off her forehead. The softness in his gray eyes made her chest tighten. “Do you want me to fix you some coffee?”

  “I don’t drink coffee.”

  His eyelids creased at the edges. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “No, nothing.”

  “Then what do you want?” His finger trailed down her cheek, wiping away some moisture. “Would you like me to stay with you tonight? I can sleep on the couch just to make sure you’re all right.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “That’s not necessary. Please, go home.”

  “Do you want me to check your house first to see if everything looks safe?”

  Emotion tugged at her heart. He was being her Superman in every way. Why did he have to be so sweet? Why couldn’t he be the Prince Charming she’d been searching for? Then again, she wasn’t Cinderella...not really, unless it was at her job. Then again, maybe if she had a fairy godmother...

  She suspected Damien acted this way toward her only because of what happened tonight. He’d be back to his normal love ‘em, and leave ‘em—let me charm you with my sexy smile—self tomorrow.

  “Thank you. That’s a good idea. Search my house, but when you’re done, you can leave. I’ll be fine.”

  He squeezed her hands before moving away. His dark blue Levis had white and green scuffmarks where he and the other man rolled on the cement and grass. The light blue cotton shirt molded to his muscles, bunching with his movements.

  Suddenly thirsty, she stood and on unsteady legs, made her way into the kitchen for a glass of water. She could also use a sleeping pill tonight.

  His heavy footsteps boomed throughout her home, stopping at each room. When he bounded down the stairs, she pulled away from the kitchen counter to meet him at the bottom step.

  He touched her shoulder. His eyes, soft with tenderness. “Everything looks good.”

  She sighed. “That makes me feel better.”

  “So I noticed,” he pointed up toward the stairs, “your collection of snowglobes in your room.”

  Here come the insulting jokes... She gritted her teeth, waiting for him to think her immature just as Tim had. “Yes,” she answered warily.

  “They are pretty.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Pretty? Really?”

  “Yeah. I think your collection is cool. I’ve always liked shaking them and watching the snow swirl around the globe.”

  She held her breath. Was he crazy? Did men actually do that? “Uh...well, me too.”

  “You’ll have to tell me the story about how you came to collect them all.”

  Nodding, she still felt stunned over his confession. Something definitely was wrong with her hearing. “Okay.”

  He rubbed her arm slightly. “So are you going to be all right tonight?”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, she nodded again. “Yes. Thanks again, Damien. You saved my life.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in an assured grin. “I’ll think of a way tomorrow. Tonight, you get some rest.”

  She frowned. His one-track mind was back, darn it. It was nice there for a few minutes that she could converse with a man that didn’t have that one thing on his mind all the time.

  “Thanks again, Damien.”

  He caressed her cheek then turned and walked out the door. Although he’d never be relationship material, he at least made a good neighbor and friend. For now, that was all she wanted from him.

  MAYBE SHE SHOULD HAVE gone to work, but after last night’s episode, her frazzled nerves wouldn’t let her. Besides that, it was Max’s day off. Good enough reason to stay home and recuperate. She was sure Fran and her two daughters would give her crap when Cyndi returned.

  Sleep hadn’t come easy last night even with the sleeping pill.

  She growled and punched her fist into her pillow. The memory of that mugger had kept her awake most of the night. Her attacker had been thrown in the slammer, but she still worried
there was another man out there just waiting to pounce on her.

  Shivering, she pulled the blanket up to her chin. Perhaps she should have taken Damien’s offer and let him stay on her couch. Frowning, she shook her head. That wasn’t a good idea because with him in the house, she was assured a completely sleepless night.

  As she slipped her legs off the bed, she sat and stretched her arms above her head. The only things she planned on accomplishing this morning were to shower, dress and eat. Although, maybe not in that order.

  The morning passed too quickly, and in between catnaps, the afternoon had disappeared. Seven o’clock in the evening came fast.

  Cyndi plopped on the sofa and curled up in a ball. After she’d pushed the mugging incident behind her, she thought about yesterday with Max. What a disaster it had been. Tears gathered in her eyes, and if her throat tightened any more, she’d have to call the paramedics because she wouldn’t be able to swallow.

  She was nothing but a pathetic loser. What was wrong with her? It seemed she had strayed back into the old pattern with men. Could Amanda be right? Maybe she couldn’t attract the sort of man she wanted.

  Other men were not the issue right now. This was about Max, someone who she’d loved when she was a teenager—someone who didn’t know about her past failures. So why couldn’t she get him to notice her? Sure, she thought of herself as a frog, but even toads found mates, didn’t they?

  They did.

  Sure, with other toads.

  Perhaps I’ve set my sights too high? What I need to find is a small, green, slimy kind of guy, and then I can live happily ever after...in the swamp. She groaned and slumped headfirst into the throw pillow.

  She wiped the moisture from her eyes, fighting for control. Depression couldn’t consume her. There had to be something she could do.

  A quick knock at her front door pulled her alert. She popped up straight like a jack-in-the-box that’d been wound too tight and finished drying her eyes with the back of her hand. She hurried over to the door, but hesitated to place her hand on the knob.