Dear Prince Charming

by Donna Kauffman

  “I think we can call this evening an unqualified success,” Mercedes announced. Lifting her glass toward Valerie, she waited until they each lifted theirs as well. “To a stunning launch.”

  Vivian beamed and lifted her flute higher, angling it toward Valerie. “To the woman who bagged us a prince.”

  “We’re in the magazine business, ladies,” Aurora chimed in.

  Glasses clinked, and they all sipped. All except Valerie, who pretended to sip, but couldn’t get a drop past her lips. She’d bagged them something, all right. Please just let this night be over.

  Valerie looked over the rim of her flute just as Jack glanced across the room at her and winked. She lowered her glass, frowned, and tapped the slim watch on her wrist.

  He mouthed the words party pooper, then Eric caught the byplay and flashed her one hand. Five minutes.

  She nodded, then pointed to the staging area, where they would make their exit. She turned to begin her good-byes to the godmothers, but Mercedes spoke to her first.

  “I know this has been an exhausting marathon for you,” she began. “We’ve all put in a great deal of time on this and I’m sure we’ll all enjoy a breather this weekend. But we’d like to schedule a meeting early Monday morning. I know Elaine already has you busy working on the next issue, but it’s important we talk.”

  Valerie hadn’t thought her stomach could tighten up any further. Mercedes’ tone was perfectly modulated, with nary a negative vibe to be found, but Valerie couldn’t help but feel the portentousness of the request. Probably that was the guilt screaming inside her head. “I do have several meetings scheduled early Monday, but I’m sure I can rearrange them.”

  “Let one of us know what you arrange, dear,” Aurora said. “We’ll meet in our regular offices, if that’s okay. We’d come into the magazine, but we don’t want to take away from the team’s efforts. Elaine is doing a wonderful job and we don’t want her to feel overshadowed. Now that the first issue is essentially launched, we’ll be stepping back to the advisory role we’d agreed upon.”

  “Will you need Elaine to attend this meeting as well?” Valerie asked, wanting some clue as to what was up.

  “Oh, no, darling,” Vivian said. “Just you.”

  Valerie managed to swallow and smile and nod. “Okay, then. Monday it is.” She said her good-byes, found Elaine and Jenn and told them she’d be leaving and taking their guest of honor with her.

  “Fabulous success,” Elaine said, toasting her with what appeared to be one flute too many of champagne. “You and I need to talk.”

  Valerie wanted to tell her to take a ticket and get in line. “Yes, of course. Anytime.”

  “Clear a block for lunch next week,” Elaine said, still managing to speak in that staccato, rapid-fire way of hers, despite being at least two sheets to the wind. “Lots to go over, much to discuss.”

  Valerie nodded, then let Jenn pull her aside as Elaine was tugged back into her conversation with a bunch of suits.

  “So, how did you get to be the lucky one to take Prince Charming home? You know, if you’d rather stay and party, I could selflessly make myself available for that lowly chore.”

  “You’re so generous.”

  “I know. It’s one of my more endearing qualities.”

  Jenn was joking, but Valerie thought she was, indeed, very endearing. And open. She wished that kind of joie de vivre came more naturally to her. It just shouldn’t be so damn awkward. She thought about the godmothers, how they shared the highs and the lows of their business, and found herself wishing for the first time that she had a trusted friend, someone she could confide in. The burden of the secret was growing heavier by the day. How great would it be to have someone to unload it on, discuss it with, or frankly, just bitch about it to? Not that she could tell anyone about this . . . but it would be nice to know there was someone there anyway.

  Jenn glanced past Valerie’s shoulder. “I think you’re being signaled.”

  Valerie looked back and saw Eric herding Jack in the general direction of the staging area. “My cue to leave.” Thank God.

  “Yeah, yeah, rub it in. You tall chicks get all the hot guys.”

  “I’m not tall.”

  Jenn looked up. “Val, in my world, everyone is tall.”

  Valerie laughed and finally started to let her neck and back unkink just a little. Almost home, just a few more minutes.

  “Do a short girl a favor. See if he has any single friends. Hell, I’m not choosy. His gay friend is pretty damn fine.”

  “Jack is single.”

  Jenn just looked at her. “Technically, yes.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Jenn just took her glass and pushed her toward the black curtains. “Go. And every once in a while, just for kicks, don’t think of everything as a business opportunity.”

  Valerie frowned. Was it really so obvious that all anyone had to do was take one look at her and see her for the No Social Life Loser she was? She knew the answer to that. The question was, what was she going to do about it?

  Jenn drained the rest of Valerie’s champagne, waving her away with her free hand. “Go, already. He’s waiting.”

  Valerie took a couple of steps, then suddenly turned back around and blurted, “Jenn, do you, ah, do you want to get together for dinner sometime? Or something? Outside work?”

  To her everlasting credit, Jenn didn’t hoot over the absolute awkwardness of Valerie’s invitation. Instead, her face lit up. “Yeah, I’d love to. I’m still finding my way around town.”

  “Me, too.” The only places she knew were restaurants where she’d conducted power lunches, and business dinners. She hadn’t even gone down to the Mall and wandered around the Smithsonian yet. “We can wander aimlessly together.”

  “Good deal. Why don’t we match up schedules after the magazine hits?”

  Valerie smiled, feeling ridiculously triumphant. It was just one step, but maybe Jenn could help her figure out how to keep taking more of them. “Great.”

  She met Eric and Brice at the staging-room curtain, still smiling. “Hi, guys. Are you two going or staying?”

  They exchanged a look that screamed barely restrained anticipation.

  “Leaving, then,” Valerie filled in for them.

  “It was a wonderful party,” Brice said. “Thank you for letting me tag along. I think your magazine is going to be a smash hit.”

  “Thanks.” She hadn’t spent more than five minutes with Eric’s date, but what little she’d seen, she really liked. Respectful, natty dresser. Cute as all hell, and with an accent to die for. Eric had done pretty damn well for being on the market all of three weeks. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  “You’ll make sure Jack gets out of here okay?” Eric asked her.

  Valerie nodded. “We’ve got it covered. After that photographer followed the Glass Slipper town car to Jack’s apartment, we’re not taking any chances. I’ve got a second town car that will hopefully lead anybody who didn’t get an invite and wants to scoop those who did on a wild-goose chase to the Glass Slipper headquarters in Maryland. By the time they figure it out, Jack will be safely home.” And so will I, she thought.

  Where she would lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and relive tonight in minute detail. Then pray for a big media blitz for one or two news cycles, before they all moved on to feed on something else. And try not to have nightmares about the whole sordid truth ending up on The Smoking Gun.

  “I think it went okay,” Eric said, looking relieved. “You?”

  She smiled and gave him a quick hug. “Yes. And thank you for sticking by him during the schmooze-and-booze part of the evening.”

  Eric held onto her arms, not letting her step entirely away. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes conveying everything he wanted to say, but couldn’t with Brice standing so close.

  “Just keep your fingers crossed it all goes okay over the next three or four days.” She glanced past him to Brice, her smile widening. “In the
meantime, go enjoy your new life.” She leaned in close. “He’s a hottie.”

  Eric’s smile flashed to a grin. “Lucky me.”

  Lucky Eric, indeed. He looked happy and excited. A man who understood the power of friendships, and was willing to risk everything for the chance to build new relationships. A month ago she’d have thought he was crazy to risk it. At the moment, all she felt was a deepening sense of respect. “And here I was thinking he was the lucky one. Just, you know, be careful.”

  “Suddenly everyone is my mother.”

  Something else occurred to her. “You know you can’t tell him—”

  “Of course I know. As it turns out, the compromise is a small price to pay. I’m beginning to think I should have backed myself into a corner years ago. Playing the manager of Prince Charming is actually a relief. Who knows, after my obligation to Glass Slipper is over, I just might retire.”

  It all sounded good. Too good. Valerie had learned fourteen perfect jobs ago that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. But she had faith that Eric wanted his freedom badly enough to protect the ruse. He wouldn’t screw Jack, and she didn’t think he’d screw her.

  “You can reach me on my cell if anything comes up,” Eric assured her. Then he winked. “Let’s just hope the only thing that comes up in the next forty-eight hours is—”

  “Got it,” Valerie said, blushing despite herself. “Emergencies only.” Eric bussed her on the cheek, then turned to Brice. “Shall we?”

  Brice nodded, his perfectly styled dreads all but vibrating. “Absolutely, dovie.”

  Valerie’s heart bumped a little as she watched them leave. She told herself the little ache accompanying it was perfectly natural for a person witnessing two people falling in love.

  She ducked behind the curtain herself, expecting Jack to be there already. The small room was empty. Shit. Eric and Brice had already gone out the back, but she ran to the service hallway anyway. No Jack there, either. Had he already gone out to the limo?

  She stepped into the damp night, drizzle lightly misting the air. Two town cars were lined up, the drivers inside and out of the rain. She leaned down as the front passenger window lowered on the first one. “Jack Lambert?” she queried.

  “Haven’t seen him come out, ma’am.”

  She looked to the second car, but the driver was already shaking his head. “Well, where in the hell—”

  Just then came the purr of a racing engine. A midnight-black Mustang tooled up along the other side of the limos. The passenger window lowered. “Want a ride? Or are you taking the town car?”

  It was Jack. Sans tux jacket and tie, sleeves already rolled up. With impossibly sexy shades on.

  “It’s past one in the morning, why the sunglasses?”

  He tugged them down and wiggled his eyebrows. “Incognito, baby.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “You are so full of it.” Just then the skies opened up, making her gasp as the fat raindrops soaked through the silk of her dress.

  He leaned over and pushed the passenger door open. “Get in. Jenn will never forgive you if you ruin that dress.”

  She glanced at the driver of the nearest limo, who grinned and shooed her in. He cracked his window and called out, “We’ll head out anyway, just in case,” he told her, then winked and raised the tinted window before she could correct his very wrong assumption.

  “Val, get in.”

  One limo pulled out, the other fell in behind him, each heading in a different direction when they left the lot.

  Valerie got in the car and closed the door. She’d barely reached for the seat belt when Jack pulled a one eighty and backtracked behind the building, in the opposite direction from the exit the limos had taken.

  “Didn’t we leave this car at my place? And we agreed on the town-car diversion just in case—”

  “We’re clear. Brice knew one of the guys who works at Bentori’s. He took a buddy and they went and picked it up and brought it down when they got off their shift. Made some ready cash on the deal. Trust me, this is fine.” He edged into the alley, then into another back parking lot, skirting that building, and finally ending up on a side street. After a quick look, Jack turned and went two blocks in the wrong direction, but just when Valerie started to comment, he whipped down another side street, then pulled into the first available space and killed the engine.

  Heart thrumming, Valerie looked over her shoulder, but the rainswept street was quiet. “Were we being followed?”

  Jack slid his sunglasses off. “No, I’ve just always wanted to do that.”

  Valerie didn’t know whether to smack him or laugh. So she did both.

  “What was that for?”

  “Do you have any idea how stressful this night has been for me? And you’re playing games.”

  “You? Stressful for you?” Jack hooted. “All you had to do was stand around and take turns glaring at your watch, then at me.”

  “Well, if you had followed the timetable I set up, I wouldn’t have needed to.”

  “So now you’re saying I’m a loose cannon? Did I or did I not talk to every person you put in my path?” He held up a finger, stalling her reply. “And did I or did I not get every bit of information out that you wanted me to reveal, with our own spin on it? They now know I was a sports reporter. They know I kept the Prince Charming thing under wraps because I wasn’t sure how to combine my two images. And they know I came out because my real job ended and I was tired of the charade. No surprises, no skeletons to come back and bite me or you on the ass later. In fact, I think between Eric’s natural charm and my bullshitting capabilities, you scored big tonight. And you want to deny me one little moment of fun?”

  Valerie just stared at him, letting the drumming rain on the soft roof of the convertible fill the silence. Finally she sighed and said, “Okay. You’re right. I just—” She stopped when he suddenly turned and began searching for something in the backseat. “Now what are you doing?”

  “Looking for something to write that down on. You admitted I was actually right about something.”

  “Very funny. You know how much is at stake here tonight. You were all over the place, talking to any and everyone. If the situation was reversed, you can’t tell me it wouldn’t have been nerve-racking for you to watch me work the room like that.”

  The streetlamp illuminated his smile. “Watching you do anything would have been a hell of a lot more fun than glad-handing congressmen and pretending I thought they married their trophy wives for love.”

  “So cynical,” she said with a surprised laugh.

  He shifted his gaze to the front windshield. “Yeah, well, everyone’s entitled to his opinion.”

  She knew he was referring to his divorce. At least, she assumed that was what had left him so bitter. “So, no trophy wife for you, I see.”

  He laughed a bit harshly. “No. I did that the first time around and got it out of the way.”

  “How long were you married?” She knew it had been brief, but had never asked specifically.

  “Eighteen months and ten days longer than I should have.” He looked at her. “A long time ago; it’s history, okay?”

  “Sounds like you’re determined not to let history repeat itself.”

  “We’re supposed to learn from our mistakes, aren’t we?”

  “I guess it depends on what lesson you thought you learned. If you’re going to let one person ruin what could be an enriching life experience with someone else, then I don’t know. Maybe that’s not learning. That’s avoiding.”

  “And you’ve been married how long now?”

  Valerie’s damp cheeks flushed a little. “Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean I can’t look around at those who are. I would hope that I wouldn’t let one mistake jade me for any future possibilities.”

  “Have you ever come close?”

  Now she wished she’d never brought it up. She shook her head. “I’ve moved around a lot since I was little. It’s
hard enough to maintain friendships, much less a committed relationship.”

  “Ever had your heart broken?”

  She smiled a little. “You say broken like you mean chewed up and spat out.”

  He paused for a moment, then nodded. “That’s a pretty fair assessment, I think.”

  She settled back in the seat, shifting so she could see him more clearly. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  “For?”

  “Poking into your personal life like that. You’re right. I have no idea what you went through, or how I’d feel if I went through it. Maybe I’d be as cynical about love as you are.”

  “I’m not cynical about love,” he said, sounding honestly surprised.

  She lifted one eyebrow, her lips quirking. “Okay.”

  “No, really. I think the concept of falling in love, being in love, is wonderful. Marriage, on the other hand? Not so much.”

  “Why?”

  “Both parties have to give the same level of effort, want it to work just as badly. Even with good communication, there’s a lot of guesswork, a lot of assumptions.”

  “I think that’s what they call having faith.”

  “Maybe. But faith is supposed to be rewarded with faith, right?”

  “And yours wasn’t?”

  He looked away, didn’t answer immediately. “It was a lot more complicated than that.”

  “Relationships usually are.”

  He shrugged and she could tell he regretted getting into such a serious discussion. “It just seems like a setup to me. Someone isn’t going to live up to the expectations of the other, which in turn brings pain to them both.”

  “But you’re totally open to love,” she said dryly.

  He laughed a little. “It wasn’t wrong to fall in love with Shelby. Blind, maybe, but not wrong.”

  “So one woman’s actions have turned you off the entire institution of marriage?”

  “It sure as hell made me a lot more wary of it. But, hey, who knows, maybe someday I’ll find a woman who’ll make me crazy stupid in love enough to consider it again.”