Fairy Tale Weddings

by Debbie Macomber

  “He could get me fired,” she said aloud several soul-searching hours later. Her hands clutched her purse protectively as she waited outside the Oakes-Jenning Financial Services building. Employees streamed out in a steady flow. Cindy stood against the side of the building, just far enough back to examine their faces as they made their way out. They all looked so serious. Cindy didn’t know much about the business world, but it certainly seemed to employ dour people, Thorne included.

  For most of the afternoon, Cindy had weighed the possible consequences of telling Thorne the truth. Losing her job was only one of several unpleasant options that had entered her mind. And ultimately he could hate her, which would be so much worse than anything else he could do. She wanted to scream at him for being so obstinate, so willful, so determined to be part of her life. He had to know she didn’t want to be found, and yet he’d ignored her wishes and driven her to this. He’d forced her into doing the one thing she dreaded most—telling him the truth.

  Her tenacity hardened as she watched Thorne step out of the building, his face as sober as everyone else’s. He carried a briefcase in one hand and walked briskly past her. Unseeing. Uncaring. As oblivious to her then as he was every morning when he walked into his clean office.

  “Thorne.” She didn’t shout; her voice was little more than a whisper.

  He stopped abruptly, almost in midstride, and turned around. “Cindy?” His gaze scanned the sea of faces that swam before him. “Cindy?” he repeated, louder this time, unsure if this was real. He’d been half out of his mind for days on end. Nothing shocked him anymore. He’d known her voice instantly, but that too could be part of his deep yearning to find her. She was here and she’d called out to him, and he wouldn’t let her escape him again.

  “Here.” She took a step closer, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. “Call off the detective. I’ll tell you—” She wasn’t allowed to finish.

  Thorne dropped the briefcase onto the sidewalk, grabbed her shoulders and hauled her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers with such intensity that he drove the breath from her lungs. His hand dug into her hair as he tangled it with his fingers, as though binding her to him. His mouth on hers left her in no doubt regarding the strength of his emotions.

  Cindy’s first reaction was stunned surprise. She’d expected him to be furious, to shout at her and demand an explanation. But not this. Never this.

  Once the initial shock of his kiss faded, she surrendered to the sheer pleasure of simply being in his arms. She held on to him, throwing her arms around him, relishing the rush of sensations that sprang up within her. She couldn’t have pushed him away had her life depended on it. The resolution to end their relationship had melted the minute he’d touched her.

  “This had better not be a dream,” Thorne said, moving his lips against her temple. “You taste so unbelievably real.”

  Cindy flattened her palms against his chest in an attempt to break away, but he held on to her. “Thorne, please, people are looking.”

  “Let them.” He kissed her again, with such hunger that she was left breathless and disoriented. She made a weak effort to break loose again.

  “Thorne,” she pleaded. Every second he continued to hold her weakened her determination to explain everything. He felt so warm and vital…so wonderful. “Please…don’t,” she begged as he covered her face with kisses. Even as she spoke, pleading with him to stop, she was turning her head one way and then another, allowing him to do as he wished.

  “I’m starving for you,” he murmured, kissing her again.

  She was so weak-willed with Thorne. She could start out with the firmest of resolves but after being with him for ten seconds she had no fortitude left at all.

  “Cindy—” his arms tightened “—I’ve been going crazy without you.”

  It hadn’t been any less traumatic for Cindy. “You hired a detective?”

  “He found you?”

  “No…I heard you were looking.” Her hands lovingly framed his face. “Thorne, please call him off.” She didn’t want the private detective harassing or intimidating those she loved most. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know…only, please, please, don’t hate me.”

  “Hate you?” His look was incredulous. “I’m not capable of feeling any different toward you than the night we met.” For the first time he seemed to notice the stares they were generating. “Let’s get out of here.” He reached for her hand and led her purposefully away.

  “Thorne,” she cried with a surprised glance over her shoulder. “Your briefcase.”

  He seemed so utterly astonished that he could have forgotten it, Cindy laughed outright.

  Without hesitating, he turned and went back to retrieve it, dragging her with him. “See what you do to me?” His words were distressed.

  “Do you know what you do to me?” she responded with equal consternation.

  “I must have quite an effect on you, all right. You can’t seem to get away from me fast enough. You sneak off like a thief in the night and turn up when I least expect it. I don’t sleep well, my appetite’s gone and I’m convinced you’re playing me for a fool.”

  “Oh, Thorne, you don’t honestly believe that, do you?” She came to an abrupt stop. People had to walk around them, but Cindy didn’t care. She couldn’t bear it if Thorne believed anything less than what she truly felt for him. “I think I’d rather die than let you assume for even a minute that I didn’t care for you.”

  “You have one heck of a way of showing it.”

  “But, Thorne, if you’d give me a chance to—”

  Undaunted by the traffic, Thorne paraded them halfway into the street, his arm raised. “Taxi!”

  “Where are we going?”

  A Yellow cab pulled up in front of them. Thorne ignored her question; he opened the car door and climbed in beside her a second later.

  Before Cindy could say another word, Thorne spoke to the driver. When he’d finished he leaned back and stared at her as though he still wasn’t completely sure she was really there.

  Cindy hadn’t thought about where she’d talk to Thorne, only that she would. Over and over she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say. But she hadn’t counted on him hauling her across Manhattan to some unknown destination. From the looks he was giving her now, he didn’t appear any too pleased with her.

  Thorne finally relaxed and expelled a long sigh. “Do you realize we’ve been to bed together and I don’t even know your name?”

  Cindy felt more than saw the driver’s interest perk up. Color exploded into her cheeks as she glared hotly at Thorne. “Would you stop it?” she hissed. He was doing this on purpose, to punish her.

  “I don’t think I can.” He regarded her levelly. “You’ve got me so twisted up inside, I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. My parents think I need to see a shrink and I’m beginning to agree with them!”

  Cindy covered his hand with her own. “I’m certainly nothing like the Cinderella you met that night.” Her voice was a raw whisper, filled with pain. “I thought I could pretend to be something I’m not for one glamorous night, but it all backfired. I’ve hated deceiving you—you deserve better than me.”

  “Is your name really Cindy?”

  She nodded. “That’s what started it all. Now I wish I’d been named Hermione or Frieda—anything but Cindy. If I had, then maybe I wouldn’t have believed in that night and decided to do something so stupid.”

  “No matter who you are and what you’ve done,” Thorne told her solemnly, “I’ll never regret the Christmas Ball.”

  “That’s the problem—I can’t either. I’ll treasure it always. But Thorne, don’t you see? I’m not Cinderella. I’m only me.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly Prince Charming.”

  “But you are,” Cindy argued.

  “No. And that’s been our problem all along—we each seemed to think the other wanted to continue the fantasy.” He put his arm around her an
d drew her close to his side. “That evening was marvelous, but it was one night in a million. If we’re going to develop a relationship, it has to be between the people we are now.”

  Cindy leaned against him, sighed inwardly and closed her eyes as he rested his chin on her head.

  “I want to be with Cindy,” he said tenderly, “not the imaginary Cinderella.”

  “But Cindy will disappoint you.”

  “If you’re looking for Prince Charming in me, then you’re in for a sad awakening as well.”

  “You don’t even know who I am!”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her lovely face commanded all his attention. He sensed that something deep inside her was insecure and frightened. She’d bolted and run away from him twice, her doubts overtaking her. No more. Whatever Williams had dug up about her had brought her back. She was here because Mike had gotten close to her, had begun to uncover her secrets.

  Thorne had found his Cindy again and could on go with his life. The restless feeling that had worn away at him was dissipating. He was a man who liked his privacy, but overnight he’d discovered he was lonely and could no longer adjust to the solitude. Not when he’d met the one woman he wanted to share his world with. All he had to do was persuade her of that. Only this time, he’d be more cautious. He wouldn’t make demands of her. She could tell him whatever was troubling her when she was ready. Every time he started questioning her, it ended in disaster.

  Cindy sat upright, her back stiff as she turned her head and glanced out the side window. She knew he was right; they couldn’t go back to the night of the Christmas Ball. But she wasn’t completely convinced they could form a lasting relationship as Thorne and Cindy.

  “You say it doesn’t matter,” she said thoughtfully, “but when I tell you I’m the girl who—”

  “Stop.” His hand reached for hers, squeezing her fingers tightly. “Are you married, engaged or currently involved with another man?”

  She glared at him for even suggesting such a thing. “No, of course not!”

  “Involved in any illegal activity?”

  She moved several inches away from him and sat starchly erect, shocked at his questions. “Is that what you think?”

  “Just answer me.”

  “No!” She had difficulty saying it. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in nervous agitation. “I don’t cheat, rarely lie and am thoroughly law-abiding—I don’t even jaywalk, and in New York that’s something!”

  Thorne’s warm smile chased the chill from her bones. “Then, who and what you are is of no importance. You’re the one who has all the objections. What I feel is apparently of little consequence to you.”

  “That’s not true. I’m only trying to save you from embarrassment.”

  “Embarrassment?”

  “My family name isn’t linked with three generations of banking.”

  “I wouldn’t care if it was linked with generations of garbage collecting.”

  “You say that now,” she snapped.

  “I mean that. I’m falling in love with a girl named Cindy, not a fairy-tale figure who magically appeared in my life. She’s bright and funny and loving.”

  Falling in love with her! Cindy’s heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness. Then she realized—once again—the impossibility of an enduring relationship between them. Dejectedly she lowered her gaze. “Please don’t say that.”

  “What? That I’m falling in love with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s true.”

  “But you hardly know me,” she said. Yet that hadn’t deterred her from falling head over heels for him.

  The taxi came to a stop in the heavy traffic, and the driver told them, “Central Park is on your left.”

  “Central Park?” Cindy echoed, pleased at his choice of locations to do their talking. She hadn’t paid attention to where they were going.

  “I thought we should return here and start over again.”

  She got out as Thorne paid the driver. A moment later, he joined Cindy on the sidewalk. He placed her hand in the crook of his arm and smiled seductively down on her.

  Her returning smile was feeble at best.

  “Hello, there,” he said softly. “I’m Thorne, which is short for Thorndike, which was my father’s name and his father’s before him.”

  “I’m a first-generation Cindy.”

  “Well, Cindy, now that we’ve been properly introduced, will you have dinner with me tonight?”

  “I…can’t.” She hated to refuse, but she couldn’t spend time with him when she was paid to clean his office. As it was, she was due there within half an hour.

  His face tightened briefly. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t.”

  “Tomorrow, then.”

  “But it’s New Year’s Eve.” Surely he had other places to go and more important people to spend the evening with. Arguments clustered in her mind and were dispelled with one enticing look from Thorne.

  “New Year’s Eve or not, I’ll pick you up and we’ll paint the town.” He felt Cindy tense and guessed why. Quickly he amended his suggestion. “I’ll meet you somewhere. Anyplace you say.”

  “In front of Oakes-Jenning.” Although it was a holiday, she’d be working; she couldn’t afford to turn down time and a half. “I…won’t be available until after eleven-thirty.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there.”

  “You’re late,” Vanessa said unnecessarily when Cindy ran breathlessly into the basement supply room.

  “I know.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Central Park.” She made busy work filling her cart with the needed supplies. She’d left after promising Thorne she’d meet him the following night. His gaze had pleaded with her to give him something to hold on to—a phone number, a name, anything. But Cindy had given him something of far greater value—her word. Letting her go had been a measure of his trust. She could see that he wasn’t pleased, but he hadn’t drilled her with questions or made any other demands.

  What he’d said was true. Neither of them could continue playing the role of someone they weren’t. Cinderella was now Cindy and Prince Charming had gone back to being Thorne. They’d been a bit awkward with each other at first, but gradually that unease had evaporated.

  Cindy was beginning to believe that although there were many obstacles blocking their path, together they might be able to overcome them. There hadn’t been time to say the things she needed to say because she’d had to rush to work. She hadn’t explained that to Thorne and saw jealousy appear on his face.

  “What are you thinking?” Vanessa asked, studying her.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” her friend complained. “Give me a break! Are we back to that?”

  Cindy relented. “I’m seeing Thorne tomorrow night.”

  “You are?” Even Vanessa sounded shocked. “But it’s New Year’s Eve…oh, heavens, did you forget we have to work?”

  “No…I told him I wouldn’t be ready until after eleven-thirty.”

  “And he didn’t ask for any explanation?”

  “Not really.” The questions had been there, in his eyes, but he hadn’t voiced a single one. Cindy felt her friend regarding her thoughtfully and busied herself with the cart, making sure she had everything she needed before heading for the upper floor.

  She only hoped she was doing the right thing. Thorne kept insisting that who she was didn’t matter to him. She was going to test that and in the process wager her heart and her future happiness.

  “Thorne, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  Thorne frowned at the telephone receiver. He could tell by the slight edge to his mother’s voice that she was going to bring up an unpleasant subject—Sheila. The other woman was quickly becoming a thorn in his side. No pun intended.

  “Yes, Mother,” he returned obediently, throwing his magazine on the coffee table. This conversation would require his full attention.

  “Your
father and I are having a New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night and we’d like you to attend.”

  He’d never enjoyed parties, which was one reason his mother had been so keen on Sheila, who loved to socialize. Sheila would be good for his career, his father had once told him. At the time, Thorne had considered that an important factor in choosing a wife. Not anymore.

  “I apologize, Mother, but I’ll have to decline, I’ve already made plans.”

  “But Sheila said—”

  “I won’t be with Sheila,” he responded shortly.

  “Oh, dear, is it that Cheryl woman again? I’d thought that was over.”

  “Cindy,” he corrected, swallowing a laugh. He knew his mother—she remembered Cindy’s name as well as she did her own.

  “I see,” his mother said, her voice sharpening with disapproval. “Then you haven’t said anything to Sheila.”

  “As I recall, you advised me against it,” he reminded her.

  “But, Thorne, the dear girl is beside herself with worry. And what’s this about you chasing a strange woman down some sidewalk? Really, Thorne, what’s gotten into you?”

  “I’m in love.”

  The horrified silence that followed his announcement nearly made him laugh into the phone. His parents had been waiting years for him to announce that he’d chosen a wife, and now that he was in love, they acted as if he’d committed a terrible crime. However, Thorne was positive that once his parents met Cindy, they’d understand, and love her, too.

  “Are you claiming to love a woman you hardly know?”

  “That’s right, Mother.”

  “What about her family?”

  “What about them?”

  “Thorne!”

  His mother sounded aghast, which only increased Thorne’s amusement. “Would you feel better if you could meet her?”

  “I’m not sure…I suppose it would help.”

  “Dinner, then, the first part of next week. I’ll clear it with Cindy and get back to you.”

  “Fine.” But she didn’t seem enthusiastic. “In the meantime, would you talk to Sheila? She hasn’t heard from you all week.”

  “What do you suggest I say to her?”