Cinderella's Secret Agent

by Ingrid Weaver

  “Maggie…”

  “Because that’s what I want. A family and forever. But you’re not the man who can give me that.”

  “I can give you other things, Maggie,” he murmured. “Remember?”

  She yanked her hand from his and wiped it on her skirt. “Are you really so arrogant, so stupid, that you assume we’ll pick up where we left off? Is that why you came around?” Her voice rose. “You want sex, Alan? Is that it?”

  “You have every right to be angry with me, Maggie,” Alan said, trying his smile once more. “I was so mixed up before. It took losing you to realize how much I care—”

  “My God, I knew I had made a mistake with you, but I hadn’t realized just how bad it was.” She blinked hard. “It’s just as well you reminded me.”

  At the sight of tears in Maggie’s eyes, Del had had enough. He crossed the room and placed himself between Alan and Maggie. “Your visit is over,” he said. “Leave now.”

  Alan hesitated. “You’ve misunderstood everything, Maggie. I do love you. I’ll come back later when we can talk in private, okay?”

  She shook her head quickly. “No, Alan. Stay away from me.”

  “You heard her,” Del said, reaching for Alan’s wrist.

  “Touch me again and I’ll have you charged with assault,” he said, retreating toward the door.

  “It would be worth it,” Del muttered. He was almost disappointed when Alan left without any further argument. He would have liked an excuse to land a punch or two. A broken nose might have given the man’s smooth face more character.

  After turning the lock and sliding the security chain in place, Del turned back to see that Maggie was leaning against the bedroom door, her faced buried in her hands. He was by her side in an instant, slipping his arms around her back to pull her against him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She dipped her head, pressing her forehead into his chest. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice muffled. “It’s mine.”

  “I should have thrown him out when I realized who he was.”

  “I had to face him sooner or later. I’m just glad that you were here.”

  Del felt his shirt grow damp as her shoulders shuddered with a sob. He hesitated to ask the question but knew that he had to. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

  There was a brief but agonizing silence. “No,” she answered finally. “Whatever I felt, or whatever I thought I felt, died months ago when I learned about his lies. I trusted the wrong person, that’s what it comes down to. Damn, how could I have been so blind?”

  Del had no answer to that one. And he wasn’t yet enough of a hypocrite to condemn someone else for lying. “Sometimes we see things in people we love that aren’t really there.”

  “Or maybe we imagine things in the people we want to love.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was such a fool, Del. I wanted to love Alan. He was so charming and so smart. I thought he was my shot at happiness. I was so wrong.”

  “We all make mistakes.”

  “Well, this one was a doozy. My God, I can’t believe he had the…the nerve to stand here and talk about love and ask me to be his…mistress, as if he were doing me a favor. As if I were even capable….” She drew in an unsteady breath. “I gave birth less than three weeks ago. How could he possibly think I’d be interested in sex?” she mumbled.

  Del felt a stab of guilt at his own feelings. “Any man who came on to you now would be an insensitive jerk,” he said, as much for his benefit as hers.

  “But do you know what the worst thing was? He never once asked about Delilah. Not once. It’s as if she never happened.”

  “You’re both better off without him.”

  “That’s for sure. And to think I’d been feeling guilty over not telling him about his daughter.”

  “It was his choice, Maggie. He made that clear before she was born.”

  “I know, but I thought it was unfair of me. Selfish. I wanted to have her all to myself.”

  “And now you do.”

  She sniffed. “Yes, now I do.”

  He tightened his hold, pulling her more firmly to the front of his body. “He won’t bother you again. I’ll call a locksmith and have your locks changed.”

  “My locks?”

  “He used a key to get in.”

  Maggie lifted her head to look at him. Confusion misted her eyes. “He used a key? But he returned the set of keys I gave him months ago. I made sure of it when I found out the truth about him.”

  “He must have had a copy made before he gave your keys back.”

  She was silent for a moment. Gradually the confusion gave way to anger. “That rat!”

  There were several other more colorful epithets Del would have used. “I’ll stay here until your lock is changed, okay? I could install an alarm system, too.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “An alarm system? In this tiny place?”

  “I could get a good deal on the electronics.”

  The corners of her mouth trembled in what could have been the hint of a smile. “Maybe I’ll just tell the superintendent to call the exterminator back in. That should help keep the rats under control.”

  Del couldn’t help it. Before he could think, he lifted his hand to wipe a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You’re taking this well, Maggie.”

  “No, I’m not.” She sniffed again. “The front of your shirt is soaked.”

  “It’ll dry.”

  “It’s the hormones, you know. I just can’t seem to control my emotions.”

  “It’s understandable. You have every reason to be upset. Now I’m sorry I didn’t break his arm, after all. He had it coming.”

  “Break his… Del, what did he mean about charging you with assault? What happened when he got here?”

  “Nothing.”

  The smile that had been hovering around her lips finally broke through. “On your white charger riding to my rescue once more, huh?”

  Oh, damn. He wanted to kiss her. If that made him an insensitive jerk, then that’s what he was. The urge was as overpowering as the need to breathe. She felt so soft and feminine, the way she was nestled in his arms, with her hands on his chest and her chin tilted up, that his entire body was humming with awareness.

  The urge was so much stronger than it had been earlier, in her bedroom. She was wide awake. Her eyes were sparkling as she looked at him. Her cheeks, still wet from her tears, dimpled with her smile. Del knew that if he didn’t move away in the next second, there would be no stopping, no turning back.

  Think about Delilah, he told himself. Think about the baby, about Maggie’s dream of having a family and forever, two things you could never promise her.

  But, damn, her mouth was so near and already moist and supple and inviting….

  “Thanks for being my friend, Del,” she said. She patted his cheek and stepped back. “Who says chivalry is dead?”

  Chivalry? The hell with chivalry. He wanted to kiss her. Hard. Deep. Now.

  Instead, he called the locksmith.

  Chapter 6

  Maggie stood outside the diner, looking through the window at the activity within. A middle-aged woman Maggie didn’t recognize was clearing the dishes from an empty table. Behind the counter, Laszlo was fixing a fresh batch of coffee while Joanne chatted to a pair of customers who stood by the cash register. It was mid-morning, so the breakfast rush was tapering off and the noon-hour scramble hadn’t yet begun.

  The last time she had been here was almost four weeks ago, the day Delilah had been born. It was all so familiar, and yet so different. Maggie glanced at her reflection in the glass. Her hair was the same short, practical style, although a bit longer. Her cheeks seemed thinner, but that was nothing compared to the drastic reduction in size everywhere else. The last time she had walked through that door, she had been so pregnant she’d practically filled up the door frame and blocked the daylight.

  Yet the biggest difference was that thi
s time, she wouldn’t be entering the place alone. Smiling, she looked at her daughter.

  Delilah was lying on her back in the stroller, her gaze intent on the string of colorful beads that hung above her. A lace-trimmed pink bonnet shielded her face from the breeze, and a blanket embroidered with pink teddy bears kept her cozy. It was one of those perfect May mornings, the sky so clear and fresh that even Manhattan smelled as if spring was well and truly blossoming.

  Yet Maggie’s good mood today was due to more than the weather; it was because of Del. Ever since Alan’s unexpected appearance at the apartment last week, Del had been exceptionally gallant, treating both her and Delilah with attentive consideration. Thanks to the naps Maggie had been able to take during Del’s daily visits, she had been catching up on her sleep to the extent that she was feeling like a human being again, instead of a half-conscious zombie. In fact she was feeling so good, she was even looking forward to hearing Laszlo growl. “Well, Delilah?” she asked, steering the stroller toward the door. “Want to see where we first met?”

  The bell over the door tinkled as the customers who had been at the cash came out. Joanne looked up the moment Maggie wheeled Delilah inside.

  “Maggie!” she cried, hurrying out from behind the counter. She pulled Maggie into a quick embrace. “I didn’t know you were coming in today. What a treat! And you brought the baby!”

  “Hi, Joanne,” Maggie said. She paused to raise her voice. “Hi, Laszlo.”

  He turned. His mustache twitched in what could have been a smile. “Maggie, you are well?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Let me see kid,” he said, wiping his hands on his apron as he walked toward her. He peered at Delilah. The baby peered back solemnly, her eyes crossing briefly in concentration. A thick, rumbling sound that was Laszlo’s version of a chuckle arose from his chest. “Ah, she is the clever girl.”

  “A veritable genius,” Maggie agreed.

  “Good, good.” He pulled aside his apron and withdrew a coin from his pocket. “Here,” he said, pressing the coin into Maggie’s hand. “For baby’s piggy bank.”

  “Laszlo, for heaven’s sake,” Joanne said. “A quarter? That’s all?”

  “Silver for baby is the tradition,” he said, tilting his head as he wiggled his eyebrows at Delilah.

  Maggie laughed and stretched up to plant a kiss on Laszlo’s cheek. “Thanks, Laszlo. From both of us.”

  He grunted. A glint from his gold tooth appeared beneath his mustache before he resumed his work behind the counter.

  The woman who had been clearing the table paused on her way by. “What a healthy-looking baby. Is she yours?”

  “Yes, she’s mine,” Maggie said proudly, reaching down to lift Delilah out of the stroller.

  “Oh, let me hold her,” Joanne said. She took the baby carefully from Maggie’s grasp and cradled her in her arms. “Hello, sunshine,” Joanne said. “How’s my cutesy wootsey wittle sweetie?”

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you really shouldn’t use baby talk with the child,” the other woman said. “Studies have shown that it could delay speech development.”

  Joanne rolled her eyes at Maggie. “That’s Edith,” she whispered as the woman moved away. “She’s filling in for you. This week, anyway.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows. “This week?”

  “She’s the fifth waitress we’ve hired since you left,” Joanne explained. “I’d be surprised if she makes it through to the weekend.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with her?”

  “According to her, nothing. She’s perfect, you see. Edith and only Edith knows the right way to do everything.”

  Cutlery splashed into the sink, sending water slopping onto the floor. At Laszlo’s growl, Edith made a tsk noise. “You might want to consider installing a dishwasher,” she pronounced, “or perhaps redoing the plumbing so there’s more space for the sink.”

  Laszlo muttered something in Hungarian and glared. “Mop is in the back room.”

  “I hope you don’t mind if I make a suggestion, but the back room needs to be better organized,” Edith said. “It took me ten minutes to find the box of paper towels yesterday.”

  Laszlo’s glare deepened. “I have the system.”

  “Oh, I’m sure, but I think I could improve it. We could store the supplies alphabetically, starting on the right and working around to the desk.”

  “If Edith had been here three weeks ago,” Joanne muttered, “she would have filed Delilah under B for Baby.”

  There was another spurt of Hungarian from Laszlo. He swung his gaze to Joanne.

  She laid the baby in the stroller and put her arm around Maggie’s shoulders, turning her toward the door. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before he fires her, too.”

  “Joanne!” Laszlo bellowed.

  “I’m taking my break,” she said, yanking open the door.

  Maggie pushed the stroller outside, holding in her laughter until they reached the sidewalk. Once there, both she and Joanne burst into giggles.

  “Oh, Maggie,” Joanne said finally, wiping her eyes. “I’ve missed you. It’s not the same here without you.”

  “I miss you guys, too,” Maggie said.

  “I doubt that. Your little angel here probably keeps you too busy to think much about us at all. You’re looking great, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I’m completely envious. How did you manage to lose all that weight in only three weeks?”

  “I haven’t lost it all. My old pre-baby clothes still don’t fit.”

  “That’s true. You kept it in all the right places. Still breast-feeding, huh?”

  Maggie glanced at the buttons that strained over her bosom and laughed again. “What was your first clue?”

  “Aside from the obvious? I’d say it was the glow you’ve got about you. You really are looking great, as if all your energy fields are perfectly balanced.” Joanne took off the apron she wore over her brown uniform and stuffed it into the pouch behind the stroller as they moved along the sidewalk. “Motherhood definitely agrees with you, in spite of all the sleepless nights you must be having. I really don’t know how you manage.”

  “It’s all for Delilah, so I barely notice the work. Besides, Del’s been a big help.”

  “Del?” Joanne repeated. “As in cowboy Del?”

  Maggie shook her head. “He’s more like a knight, Joanne. Sweet, kind and considerate. He’s a very nice man.”

  “Nice? Maiden aunts are nice, Maggie. Guys who look like Del are a lot more. And they usually want a lot more.”

  “Not Del. He’s been a really good friend. He dotes on Delilah. He gave her the bonnet she’s wearing today and that blanket with the teddy bears, along with about a million rattles and stuffed toys.”

  “No. Really?”

  “And he’s been fixing dinner for me at least three times a week.”

  “So that’s why he hasn’t been around the coffee shop as often lately.”

  “He’s really wonderful. He changes Delilah, and sometimes he even does my laundry. He made sure to get the locks changed after Alan showed up and—”

  “Wait a minute,” Joanne said, placing her hand over Maggie’s where she gripped the stroller handle. “Alan was nosing around here last week but I wouldn’t talk to him. The fourth girl who was filling in for you did, though. She got fired because she ate more food than she served. Anyhow, I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up at your apartment. What happened?”

  “Nothing. I told him to get lost, and Del made sure he left.”

  “Del was there at the time?”

  “He comes over every day.”

  “And he’s just a friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “And is that what you want?”

  She hesitated for a telling instant. “Yes, of course.”

  Joanne pursed her lips and made a sound of disb
elief.

  Maggie exhaled impatiently. “This is ridiculous. I’m not interested in getting involved with any man. Look at me. Despite the boobs to die for, I’m a stew of uneven hormones raging through lumpy cookie dough. My priority is my baby. Getting mixed up with a romance is the last thing I need.”

  Joanne regarded her in silence. People streamed past them as the light on the corner changed.

  “Really, it would be stupid,” Maggie went on. “I can’t trust my judgment when it comes to men, anyway. Alan was a mistake. He should have cured me of any illusions about finding Prince Charming.”

  Joanne started to smile.

  “Stop smirking,” Maggie said. “I know that as far as starting a serious relationship, the timing is all wrong. Even if I dredged up the energy to think about Del that way, I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it without rupturing something. And Del is such a sweet man.”

  “He’s sweet?”

  “Yes. Terribly sweet. You should see how he blushes whenever I talk about nursing Delilah.”

  “Cowboy Del blushes?” Joanne’s smile grew to a grin. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “Well, it’s not really a blush. It’s more of a flush.”

  “That’s…interesting.”

  “It’s kind of endearing. The veins at the base of his throat start to pulse a little faster and harder. His voice gets a bit deeper, too. He has a wonderful voice. It’s soothing and stimulating all at once. It’s like his touch.”

  “Ah. He touches you.”

  “Only as a friend.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Positive. He’d be shocked out of his Dockers if he knew how I sometimes look at his hands and think…well…”

  “What do you think, Maggie?”

  “About how strong and gentle his hands are and how good they would feel…somewhere else. Somewhere with fewer clothes.”

  “Oh, honey,” Joanne said, giving her arm a gentle shake. “Listen to what you’re saying. You’re half in love with him already.”

  Maggie groaned. “No, I’m not. I couldn’t be. That would be a disaster.”

  “It sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself more than you’re trying to convince me. Why is that?”