What is Liza doing here?
“Damieno?” She laughed. “Fancy bumping into you here.”
He nodded. “Yes, what a surprise.” It shocked him that she wasn’t hanging on some rich man’s arm. “Are you here alone?”
“Yes and no. I’m actually waiting for my friends. They were going to meet me, but I’ve been waiting ten minutes and they haven’t arrived.” She looked over his shoulder, then back into his eyes. “Where’s your date?”
“I...I didn’t come with a date.”
“Really? Why not?”
He bit his lip. She didn’t need to know what was happening in his life. “I guess you can say I was stood up, too. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving.”
“Damieno, wait—” She grabbed his elbow before he could walk past her. “Since we’ve both been stood up, let’s dine together.”
He glanced at Cyndi’s table. Thankfully, she wasn’t looking his way. Of course, he didn’t like it that she had her stare glued to Max’s face, either. Although dining with Liza didn’t sound exciting, he welcomed the excuse to stay and keep an eye on Cyndi.
He looked back at Liza and nodded. “Fine, but I’m here only to eat. Don’t read any more into this.”
She smiled and hooked her arm around his. “Oh, Damieno, I wouldn’t read more into it. We’re just old friends.”
The hostess came and escorted them to their table. When they headed in Cyndi’s direction, he grimaced, hoping she wouldn’t see him. Luckily, her back was to him.
As they passed, he hurried faster, hoping she wouldn’t notice. When they reached their table, several sections away, he slid into the seat. Lifting the menu to cover his face, he ignored the fact that Liza waited by her chair to be seated.
With a huff, she pulled out her chair and sat, bumping the table in the process. He peeked over the top of the menu, first at Liza’s scowl, then beyond her to Cyndi’s table. The object of his dreams still stared into Max’s eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Damieno,” Liza whispered harshly. “What’s wrong with you?”
Looking around the edge of the menu, he smiled at Liza. “Nothing.”
She shook her head. “Liar. For some reason, you’re trying to hide.”
“Nah, I’m just reading the menu.”
To prove it, he relaxed in his chair, still keeping the menu up, but not as close to his face. First, the words blurred, and then he thought he had dyslexia. Inwardly he groaned at his mistake. Trying to act in control, he slowly turned the menu over right-side-up so he could read the words.
“Hmm, everything looks good. What are you going to have?” He peeked at Liza.
She opened her menu and gazed down at it. He took this moment to spy on Cyndi and Max. Cyndi’s smile was wide, her eyes twinkling in the chandelier light. She looked so pretty. Then she laughed at something Max said, and the cheerful ring to her voice floated across the room like angels singing. He sighed heavily, wishing he could sit with her instead of Max. Would the ache in his chest ever subside?
“Damieno? Are you listening to me?”
He snapped out of his daydream and focused on Liza. “Yes.”
“Then what did I say?”
He grinned. “You said you’re not hungry and you want to go home.”
She rolled her eyes. “No I didn’t, and you know it. I said I’m ordering the vegetarian plate.”
“Oh, in that case, I’ll order steak and potatoes.”
Tilting her head, she crossed her arms over her breasts. “Why are you trying to annoy me?”
He shrugged. “Old habit?”
“Seven years ago, you were never this mean.” She reached across the table and pulled the menu out of his hands.
Panicked, he ducked lower, hoping he was out of view from Cyndi.
Liza squeezed his hand. “Back then, you were so charming and loving.”
He sighed irritably and focused once again on his ex. “Back then I was foolishly stupid to be taken in by your beauty. Back then I didn’t know what I wanted in my life. Now I do.” He withdrew his hand from her grasp and stared out the window. The gathering clouds made the sky darker, which in turn made the lighted city brighter. Slowly, the neighboring buildings crept by in passing, and once again, he wished he shared this with Cyndi.
Across from him, Liza cleared her throat. Hesitantly, he looked at her to see what she wanted. Poor woman couldn’t stand that he didn’t hang on her every word.
“Damieno, have you thought anymore about my offer?”
“What offer?”
“You know what offer I’m referring to.”
He shook his head. “There is no offer, Liza. I don’t make deals with the devil...or one of his followers.”
Her lips pursed, her fingers tightening around the cloth napkin on the table. “Would you for once in your life think logically?”
“I’ve been thinking logically since I caught you in Max’s arms.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “In fact, I’ve never thought clearer than I do now.”
“So you’re going to ignore everything I’m offering you?”
“It appears that way, doesn’t it?”
“I could make you a wealthy man.”
He laughed deeply. “Liza, I’m wealthy enough, thank you very much.”
She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. The waiter came to take their orders. Liza snapped what she wanted, and he ordered the ten-ounce steak smothered in sautéed mushrooms.
When the waiter left, Damien glanced back at Cyndi’s table. The room had moved farther now, and the bright lights of the building he’d just seen were behind her. She had her head turned to look out the window, as did Mr. Jock-strap. Damien noticed something different when Max turned to look out across the room. The shade of the man’s face seemed a little greener than he remembered it being. Could Max be sick or afraid of heights?
Damien grinned wider. Could the poor anchorman be feeling his head swim in nausea at this very moment? Damien could only hope.
“Now why do you have a malicious smile?” Liza asked, looking over her shoulder as she searched the room.
“No reason.”
He didn’t want Liza to know what he couldn’t keep his eyes off, but he didn’t look away quick enough. Besides, it was comical to watch the color of Max’s face grow greener the more the room moved. Damien placed a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
“Oh, my.” Liza gasped. “Isn’t that Maxwell Harrington?”
“In the flesh.”
“Why are you watching him?”
He shrugged. “No reason, really. He’s just having dinner with my next door neighbor, Cynthia Randall.”
When Cyndi finally realized Max’s green face, her brows drew together. She reached across the table to touch his arm, but Max quickly withdrew and knocked over his drink.
Cyndi jumped up and dabbed the wet tablecloth with napkins. Two waiters rushed to her side.
Max stood and took a step back. He swayed.
Damien leaned his elbows on the table, watching, waiting. He’s going down for the count.
Max’s knees buckled and he dropped. Gasps echoed around the room.
Cyndi hurried to Max’s side, patting his cheeks. One of the waiters took a glass of water and splashed it on his face. Even from over here, Damien heard the sick groan from Max. Poor guy.
“Oh, my.” Liza’s voice rose in excitement. “Do you think we should go over?”
Damien shook his head. “It looks as if Cyndi and the waiter have it handled.”
He moved his attention back to Cyndi. Her beautiful mouth was pulled tight in worry. It took all of his strength not to rush to her and take her in his arms, assuring her everything would be all right.
But he’d be there for her later, and maybe finally be able to confess his true feelings.
WEARILY, CYNDI PULLED herself into her townhouse and closed the door. She dropped her purse and keys on the nearby table, then dragged her feet to the couch whe
re she collapsed.
What a night.
She swiped her hair out of her face, not caring that the hairstyle had been ruined a while ago or that her make-up was probably smeared under her eyes. Burying her head in the throw pillow, she heaved a disappointing sigh.
Way to get your date sick, Cyndi. How could she know he was afraid of heights? And why didn’t Max just say something? It wouldn’t have hurt her feelings to go to another restaurant.
She messed up Way Number Five. Dare she even attempt Number Six?
Groaning, she rolled over on the couch and looked at the television. Max had mentioned TBS was doing a Stooges marathon. Should she watch it? What did she have to lose? Obviously, she couldn’t sink any lower—at least she hoped not.
She maneuvered on the couch, tucking her legs under her. Taking the remote from the end table, she switched on the television and turned it to the correct station. Time to really study Max’s favorite comedians.
As Larry, Moe and Curly slapped, kicked and did other strange things to each other on the screen, she cocked her head to the side. Max thought this was funny? Okay, maybe the pie in the face, but really...
The light tapping on her door jerked her attention away from the television. She glanced at the clock on the wall. One in the morning? Who could be here at this time?
“Cyndi?”
Softness enveloped her and her heart fluttered. Leave it to Damien to check up on her.
“Come in, the door’s unlocked.”
The second he walked in, his eyes scanned the room. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No.”
He shut the door and sauntered to the couch. Across his arm hung one of his shirts.
“What’s the shirt for?” she asked.
“I just wondered if you could sew a button on for me.” He shrugged. “My talent doesn’t lie in that area, and I’m hoping yours does.”
She nodded. “I know how to sew, and I’d love doing it for you.”
“Cyndi? Why aren’t I interrupting anything?” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles.
“Because, as always, I messed things up.” Her voice choked and she held in the sob ready to escape.
His forehead creased. He laid the shirt on the edge of the couch, moved to sit next to her and opened his arms. “Come here and tell me about it.”
Wearing her heart on her sleeve was not a good thing, but Damien’s invitation was too good to pass up. She cuddled against him, pressing her face against his chest. Her heart pounded out of control, but it was more from their closeness than from her misery.
The gentle hand stroking her hair soothed her, and she felt she could actually talk without crying. She laid her hand on his chest, his heartbeat hammering under her palm. Just like hers. Why?
“Now tell me what happened,” he commanded in a soft voice.
She hiccupped a laugh. “I don’t know if you realized it while making the chicken tonight, but I mistakenly gave you the chili powder instead of the cinnamon.”
His body froze. “You did?”
“Yes, but Max only took one bite out of it before realizing it was too spicy for him.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” His arm tightened around her shoulders. His warm breath brushed the top of her head and smelled like mints. And the scent from his body...ahhh...he was the essence of a true male.
“But the rest of the meal turned out fine. Well, except he doesn’t like broccoli.”
“Then what happened?”
“I remembered another of the Internet article ways to win a man’s heart, which was taking him to a tall building. The article mentioned how guys like tall things. Anyway, I remembered the Franklin Hotel had a nice revolving restaurant on the top floor, so we went there.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Yeah, well, I’d thought so too, but it wasn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Believe it or not, Max is afraid of heights and sitting right by the window made him sick.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “He even passed out.”
She noticed the small tick to his lips as if he held back a laugh. The proof of it sparkled in his eyes. She gasped and playfully smacked his chest. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I’m trying not to.”
When a tug pulled on her own lips, she quickly lowered her cheek back to his chest before he could see. “It’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sure he was very humiliated.”
“He was, and so was I.”
Silence lasted for a few minutes, the only sound was the Three Stooges on the television.
“I didn’t know you were into the Stooges,” he said, his voice laced with disappointment.
“I’m not, but I’m trying to be.”
“Why?”
“Because Max is.” She lifted her head and looked at Damien again. “Way Number Six says to share their favorite movies.”
He nodded toward the television. “And do you share his interest?”
She shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at the program. “I really haven’t gotten into it yet. I don’t understand why they have to hit each other all the time, and why he—” she pointed to the dark-haired man with the funny haircut, “—has to act so tough. He’s more silly-stupid than tough.”
Damien’s chest shook with laughter. “That’s the whole purpose of the Stooges. In fact, if you’ll look at all those older comedians, you’ll see they are the same way. Look at Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, even Jerry and Dean.”
She nodded. “True.” She gazed at him, noticing the softness in his gray eyes. Why did he have to look so darn gorgeous? “Who’s your favorite comedian?”
He shrugged. “I have a few. Although I like Abbott and Costello, my favorite is Robin Williams.”
She gasped and sat up straight. “No kidding. Mine, too.”
His smile grew. “No kidding.”
“Isn’t that funny?”
“Yes, very.” His voice came deeper, softer than before.
She stared into his eyes. I could look at him all night. Her heartbeat quickened, and her mouth turned dry. His gaze dropped to her lips, and the urge to lean forward and kiss him grabbed her. Mentally, she shook away the thought. She couldn’t fall for him. He would love her and leave her for the next Barbie doll.
Her chest ached, and she sighed with disappointment. She cuddled back against him and rested her cheek on his shirt. His heartbeat hammered against her ear. Why? He certainly couldn’t be feeling the same thing as she. But she also couldn’t ask. She’d been humiliated too many times tonight. Another episode would pretty much do her in.
“Cyndi?”
“Yes?”
“What happened after the date tonight? Did Max kiss you goodnight?” His body stiffened, and his voice tightened.
She frowned. “No. He didn’t feel very well, so I didn’t push the issue.”
“Do you still think he’s the one?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Personally, I feel like he’s out of my league.”
“Why?” His hand moved over her hair in soft strokes.
“Because I can’t seem to be myself around him.” She drew tiny circles with her finger over his chest. “I wish I could act normal, but I’m nervous all the time, and you know what happens when I get nervous.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I know.”
She smiled. Too bad Max wasn’t more like Damien. She was never nervous around Damien. “But I’m not giving up. Not until he gives me some kind of signal that he’s not interested.”
Damien’s hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. The seriousness in his dark eyes confused her.
“Who wouldn’t be interested in Cynthia Randall? You’re every man’s dream.”
She snorted. “Every man’s nightmare, you mean.”
“Quit being hard on yourself.”
“Can’t help it. I’m an accident on parade.”
“No, you’re not.”
She
pulled away and straightened. “I suppose I should tell you about my ex, James.”
“What happened?”
“I started a fire in his apartment. Sure, it was only a grease fire, but still...”
Damien frowned. “Then I’m certain the fire was put out quickly.”
“True, but I still caused it. I could have burned down his whole apartment building.” Damien opened his mouth to continue, but she held up a hand and stopped him. “And that’s not all. Guess what happened with Timothy?”
“What?”
“He broke his leg sliding down the back steps. They were covered with ice.”
He scowled. “You can’t blame yourself for that. I’m sure he knew there was ice on his back porch.”
She shook her head. “He would have been able to walk down them if I hadn’t tripped on the rug and plowed into him.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Shall I go on?”
“No, Cyndi. Stop it right now.” Irritation captured his narrowed eyes. “All of those things were accidents. They weren’t meant to happen.”
“Oh, come on, Damien—”
“Cynthia.” He cupped his hand over her mouth. “If I hear one more word about this, I’m taking you over my knee.”
A giggle erupted from her throat. She pulled back and his hand dropped. “And do what, may I ask?”
He grinned. “Keep belittling yourself and you’ll find out.”
She pouted teasingly and poked him in the ribs. “Oh, you’re so mean.”
He jumped, and then tightened his arms around her. “Cyndi, the plain and simple truth is those other guys weren’t right for you. You’ll find the man of your dreams and know it because you can be yourself around him. If a man can’t love you for the Cyndi I know, he’s not worth it.”
Her heart melted. Why can’t you be the man of my dreams? Damien would be the perfect man. If only he didn’t move from one woman to the next so quickly. But then...what if he’d changed? What if he was looking for a relationship? Perhaps she could test him in some way to see.
The idea gave her hope, and her mind began thinking of ways to see. Her spirits lifted and she looked forward to the challenge. First, she had to give Max one more shot. She had to find out if things were just going to be doomed between them forever.
Her Own Fairy Godmother Page 16
