by Cindi Madsen
The girl smiled. Romeo put his arm around her and led her to the bar.
Looks like Romeo found his Juliet.
Now there’s a story for you. I used to think there was something so lovely, so powerful about Romeo and Juliet. To be so much in love that you were willing to die for it. Now that I’m older and wiser, I can’t help thinking the lovers jumped the gun—or dagger, in Juliet’s case. The two of them barely knew each other. If they’d just played the relationship out a bit, they’d probably find that they didn’t even like each other all that much.
“Hey, is this seat taken?” a guy asked.
I looked at him, contemplating my answer. He was cute, and maybe he—
“Because my friend needs a place to sit and there’s not enough stools at our table.”
That put my ego back where it belonged. Karma must’ve been getting me back for dissing Romeo. “Go ahead.”
As he dragged the stool away, I turned my attention back to my empty glass.
I should’ve brought my headphones so I could at least listen to my audiobook.
Thinking about my book reminded me of my embarrassing encounter with Jake yesterday. I’d been standing there holding that stupid book on bondage, and he’d just flashed his perfect smile at me, melting my resistance to him even as embarrassment burned through me. I heard his voice in my head. It’s okay to admit that you were stalking me.
For a brief second, I was tempted to break my rules, to see what going out with him would be like. Then I remembered the last time I’d had my heart broken and came to my senses. The rules had gotten me this far.
…
I climbed out of Drew’s truck and pocketed his keys. Since he’d gotten a little tipsy, I’d driven his giant Dodge Ram back to my place. “So, did you find a lust connection with the redhead?”
“Lust, yes,” Drew said as we headed across the parking garage toward the elevator. “She was funny, too, so I’ll be giving her a call. What about the guy you were talking to at the end of the night?”
“He was nice, and I needed someone to chat with, since you left me stranded.” I gave him a mock dirty look. “But after talking to him for a while, I knew we’d never go anywhere. I gave him a fake number. If he calls, he’ll be able to order the best pizza in the city, so at least there’s a possible consolation prize.”
“Cold.”
I pushed the up button on the elevator and the doors opened. “Hey, you’re the one who said you have to stab the knife in deep enough for them to get the point.” Drew and I stepped into the elevator and I pushed the five button. “And I quote, ‘Otherwise they waste months taking you out, spending all their money on you, when they have no chance. That’s far crueler than rejecting them. So you don’t scrape or barely poke, you jab hard enough to pierce the heart.’”
“I forgot about telling you that. I should probably take my own advice.” He held up his phone. “Five missed calls from Michelle. Apparently, I didn’t go deep enough for her to get the point.”
“Yeah, rookie mistake.”
The elevator stopped on the first floor. When the doors opened, I automatically scooted toward Drew to allow space for whomever or however many were coming in.
Of course it was Jake. Because he was everywhere.
Our eyes met and the air around me thickened. No, I definitely couldn’t deny the obvious chemistry between us, as he’d put it. Now to decide what to do about it. I lifted my hand to wave, the word hi on my tongue, when Drew said, “I can’t believe you’re calling me a rookie. I taught you how to do it. Then again, you’re the one who’s taken it to the next level. Like when you slapped that guy in front of everyone at the wedding and told him you never wanted to see him again. Now that’s driving the point home.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up as he settled into the corner.
The elevator suddenly felt way too small. And way too hot. “Yeah, but that guy deserved it. He said disgusting things to the whole wedding party, hit on the bride, all the bridesmaids, and then came back to me. He was a special circumstance.”
“Don’t be ashamed,” Drew said. “That was good stuff. I tell everyone that story. It’s what keeps my friends from hitting on you.”
I thought about explaining to Jake that I wasn’t really a mean, horrible person, but I knew it would come out wrong. And why did I care anyway? I didn’t want to date Jake.
Of course, I didn’t want him to think I was an awful person, either.
And okay, maybe I did kinda sorta want to date him. Hell, I was more confused with every encounter, and if we were going to keep seeing each other every time I turned around…
“Chinese food never fills me up,” Drew said. “I say we eat the leftovers now, then I’ll make a real breakfast tomorrow morning.”
The elevator landed on five and the doors slid open. I thought about waving or saying good-bye to Jake. But in the end, I just decided to walk out with the small bit of dignity I had left.
Chapter Six
The sound of pots and pans clanging together woke me up. I squinted at the clock and pulled my covers over my head. Drew had gotten chatty last night and we ended up laughing and talking while we ate leftover Chinese food. It’d been fun, but I’d had a hard time falling asleep. Even after a solid six hours, I still felt exhausted.
Whistling accompanied the clanging pans, and I cursed myself for not closing my bedroom door. Groaning, I threw off the covers, got out of bed, and padded down the hall.
Drew was already up and cooking eggs. He put down the spatula and headed over to the fridge, where he took out the carton of orange juice and set it on the island. “You don’t have any bacon or sausage.”
“I don’t usually have time for real breakfast. Mostly I just grab cereal and toast.” I took two glasses out of my cupboard and filled them with orange juice. “I thought you’d sleep in.”
“I did. I’m used to waking up at six, and I made it all the way to seven. Besides, I feel bad leaving Dad and Devin doing all the work.”
I covered my yawn with my hand. “How is Devin anyway? I know last time I was there, things between him and Anne were tense.”
“Ava’s still in that crying-all-the-time baby stage. It’ll get better once she’s older. At least it did after Levi got older.”
“I just think it’s sad. They used to be so in love. Ever since they had the kids, all they do is fight.”
“It’s not like they’re going to get divorced.” Drew scooped out the steaming scrambled eggs onto the two plates.
“Yeah, but it proves my point. Love—the I’m-crazy-about-you kind—never lasts. You still care for and love the person. But you don’t stay in love.”
Drew shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. “I remember when all you ever talked about was finding a guy and getting married. You’d hog the TV, watching those sappy chick flicks—”
“Then I grew up and learned why they always end the movie after the guy and girl get together. That’s when everything falls apart.”
…
While I waited for the elevator, I listened to the voice mail message Steph had left for me. “Just thought I’d remind you to be nice to Karl. He’s Anthony’s best man, so you’ll be seeing him again. No pressure,” she teased, and I couldn’t help but smile despite my reservations.
I’d already had a failed blind date on Monday, and two in one week made me feel desperate, even though it was everyone else who was desperate to set me up with someone. But I’d quickly learned you don’t argue with the bride when it comes to anything even semi-wedding related, and as she’d pointed out, I had to meet Karl eventually. She also said this guy was different, and if anyone had a chance of setting me up with someone I could have a casual dating relationship with, it was Stephanie.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked in, my gaze on my keypad as I sent Steph a text. If this adversely affects your wedding, you and Anthony will have no one to blame but yourselves. I want a statement detailing such in my office by noon.<
br />
I hit send, knowing she’d get that I was joking, then glanced up to make sure the elevator was going down to the garage.
I wasn’t the only person in the elevator. Jake—of course—was in the corner. He smelled like a combination of fresh, soapy scent and that amazing-smelling musky cologne. It filled up the elevator, and I wanted to take a big whiff and hold it in all day.
“Hey,” I said. “Off to work?”
He nodded. Nothing else.
Is he snubbing me? Maybe it’s because of last night.
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. “I should’ve said hi last night, but it was kind of crazy.”
“You had company. I get it,” he said, his voice lacking its usual carefree quality.
I realized he’d probably gotten the wrong idea about who Drew was, and suddenly, I was desperate to explain. Because first of all, ew, and second of all, I didn’t want him thinking I brought guys home all the time. “That was my brother. He was in town for the night, and we actually spent most of it trying to land him a new girl. I won’t know for a few weeks how successful it was.” The memory of Drew saying in front of Jake how mean I was came rushing back to me. I put my hand on his arm. “You know, Drew was exaggerating. I’m a nice person. Most of the time.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on his lips. “So, you didn’t really slap a guy in the middle of someone’s wedding?”
I bit my lip. “Technically, it was at the reception, and I know it sounds bad out of context, but I swear he deserved it.”
Jake looked down at me and I noticed again how blue his eyes were. My gaze moved to his lips.
Mayday, mayday, mayday.
I dropped my hand from his arm and swallowed.
“And what did I do to deserve the brush-off?” he asked.
The elevator doors opened and I let out a sigh of relief. Saved by the bing! I moved for the doors, but Jake beat me to them. Only he put a hand out to hold them open and turned to face me, eyebrows raised. So much for escaping the question.
I could feel every beat of my heart, and the walls of the elevator seemed to be closing in on me. “It’s nothing against you personally. You seem nice—you’re very charming, actually, which I’m sure you know. But you live in my building, and I’ve got certain rules about that kind of thing. Before I stuck to the rules, my life was much messier.” I ducked under his arm—damn he smelled good—and started for my car.
Jake stayed by my side, our footsteps echoing through the garage. “I live in the wrong place and just like that, I’ve got no chance with you?”
I kept my eyes on my car, afraid that if I looked at him, I might give in. And yes, last night I’d considered trying one little date. But he noticed too much, and he pushed against boundaries I wasn’t ready to let go of. It was time I pushed back. “Why have you chosen to pursue me? I’m not playing hard to get. It’s not some game you’ve got to win.” I pointed my remote at my silver Dodge Durango and pushed the unlock button.
Jake stepped ahead of me and opened the car door for me. “I’m sure plenty of guys hit on you. Obviously you’re beautiful. But there’s something different about you that makes me not want to give up.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Cinderella’s.”
Two creases formed between Jake’s eyebrows. “Cinderella’s?”
“Yeah, Cinderella screwed me over.” Without any more explanation, I got into my car, pulled the door closed, and fired up the engine.
…
My seventh birthday was one that stuck out among the rest of my birthdays. Mom and Dad had been fighting a lot, but on that day they’d come together and thrown me a princess party at the local McDonald’s. I wore my Cinderella dress; the other girls were decked out in various other princess costumes. (Mine was the most authentic—Mom had gone all out.)
Another party was going on at the same time. A group of boys dressed as superheroes sat across the room. Their fighting and yelling drifted over, interrupting our party. The girls and I frowned, shook our heads, and wrinkled our noses at them. Ugh. Boys.
Mom took a picture of all my friends and me in our dresses, which remained remarkably clean. In the photo, you can see the boys in the background. They have ketchup on their clothes, and for some reason, Batman has a sword—basically, it’s an unorganized mess.
I could’ve saved a lot of stress over the years if I’d just realized then that boys didn’t want to be princes from fairy tales. They wanted to act cool, talk cool, and get into fights.
I made the mistake of thinking they’d grow out of it someday.
Cinderella Case Study: Charlie/Prince Charming
My Age: 23
I met Charlie at a dance club. It wasn’t exactly a ball, but my dress was sparkly, my shoes covered in rhinestones—so practically glass slippers. I’d been to enough dance clubs to know that you didn’t meet guys at dance clubs—not good guys, anyway. Stephanie had just broken up with Jimmy Delfino, this jerk she’d dated for way too long. To celebrate, she’d wanted to go dancing.
Charlie, a cute guy with light brown skin and huge brown eyes, asked me to dance shortly after we’d arrived. We danced another song after that. Then another and another, until we’d spent more of the night together than apart. As the club was closing down, he told me he’d love to see me again.
Stephanie gave me that look. The one that said, We have rules about dance-club guys.
I sighed. “You know, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Charlie leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I hope that someday we’ll cross paths again.” He gave me a sad smile, hung his head, and then slowly turned away from me.
“Wait,” I said. “I’d rather not leave it up to fate. Sometimes fate needs a little help.”
A huge grin spread across his face. He whipped out his cell and programmed my number into it. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? You’re not going to play it cool for a few days? Isn’t that what guys like you do?”
Charlie reached out and squeezed my hand. “I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t wait around when I run into a girl like you. I’m not stupid.”
I had to hand it to him, he had the sweet-talk thing down. I’d heard plenty of lines before, but there was something about the way he delivered that one that made me think he might just be different.
The next day, I told myself over and over that if he didn’t call, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But when an unfamiliar number lit up my display, I shrieked and jumped around for a few seconds before answering it.
“Hello,” I said in my best, I’m-casual-sexy-cool voice.
“Darby?”
His voice sent my blood rushing through my body. It was him! He called! “Yeah?”
He exhaled. “Oh, thank goodness. My boys bet me you didn’t give me your real number. I’m glad they’re wrong.”
I smiled. “You had a certain something that made me break my rule about giving my number out to guys at a club.” But then reality hit. My last serious relationship had been Allen, and that made me gun-shy to dig in. “Hey, Charlie, you’re not married are you?”
“Hell no! And why would I hit on you if I was married?”
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “I just like to check.” I cringed, thinking I’d blown it—that he’d hang up and never talk to me again.
But then he said, “So how do you feel about my coming and picking you up tomorrow night? I don’t want to have to wait longer than that.”
I was officially swept off my feet.
For the first month, Charlie and I had nothing but fun. We hit dance clubs and went to party after party together. One of his friends was always having a get-together, and they were usually big, extravagant things—money was obviously not an object. It was a blur of fun, loud, good times.
By then my apprenticeship at Metamorphosis was almost up, and I was
working like crazy to make sure I got a coveted designer position. I spent a few weeks mixing and matching color swatches for an upcoming pitch while downing muffins and energy drinks.
Since Charlie was what Steph and I referred to as a “trust-fund baby,” he didn’t have a job. I think he occasionally went to the one college class he was taking, and though he didn’t have much purpose in life besides having a good time, he was very good at it.
One night when I was putting the finishing touches on my pitch, he took my laptop away and held it out of reach. “If you don’t get busy living, you’re going to look back at your life and find it empty.”
When I reached for it, he kissed me, keeping my computer out of reach. “Come on, baby,” he said. “Let’s go out. You deserve a break.” He kissed my neck, then moved his lips to my jawline. “Wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do.”
So we went out and hit the party scene, the way we had before my life had gotten so busy. And I liked that he made me take time for myself so I didn’t get too burned out.
Then I got my full-time job at Metamorphosis, life slowed down a bit, and Charlie and I started spending a little quiet time together. We didn’t do that well with quiet time. Remember how in Cinderella Prince Charming has, like, three or four lines? My relationship with Charlie would’ve been better had we stuck to four lines.
A few big fights later, I knew we weren’t going to work. But because I had so much fun when we went out, I hesitated to end it.
I was sitting in his apartment with him and his friends when things took a turn for the worse. They were watching sports, like they did every minute they could.
“Can you believe those chicks at the club last night?” Joe, one of Charlie’s roommates, said.
“There should be a weight limit on girls dancing in the cages,” Charlie said.
“And at Hooters.”
Charlie tossed a handful of chips in his mouth. “Unless their boobs are what tips them over the scale,” he said through the crunching.