“I think this strap’s supposed to go below this one,” Sarah said, turning around in a fruitless attempt to see the back of her dress.
“Wait, I think I see what the issue is…” I fumbled around the many layers of her dress, enjoying the brief glimpse of one shapely leg under all the ruffles. “This part was tucked into that part. I think it’s right now.”
She turned once and the dress moved with her, swirling around and then bouncing back into place. “Thanks,” she said. “Is my makeup all messed up? The whiskers they drew on me, I mean?”
A frown formed on my face as I looked at her. “It’s a little smudged.”
“Damn. Do you have a mirror?”
“No, I’m a man. As I believe I just proved to you.”
She grinned. “Yes, you presented some pretty compelling evidence.” She placed her hand on my chest and leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. Such a simple gesture, but for some reason it made my heart beat faster. She was a sweet girl. But sweet girls would be far better off staying away from guys like me.
To cover my mixed feelings, I made sure my own costume was back in order. When I reached down to move the wine bottle out of the way of her full skirts, I saw the condom, which I’d tied off, had leaked.
While I was looking for somewhere to discard it, I passed Sarah trying to fix her makeup by looking at her reflection in a distorted copper pot. She really was adorable.
I finally got everything cleaned up and met her by the door. “Ready to rejoin the party, Milady?”
“Yes indeed, kind sir,” she said, her eyes gleaming—which I doubted was because of the party.
I opened the door, and as soon as I did, we could hear faint noise from down the hall as well as the long, low chimes of a clock.
Sarah’s face turned pale. “What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch. “Shit! It’s midnight.”
“Oh my god, the contest! I have to go.”
“Wait, I forgot my sword.” But she’d already taken off.
“I’m sorry,” she said, over her shoulder as she ran down the hall. The clock continued to chime as she ran. “I have to get out there.”
“Meet me after,” I called. “In the main entryway, right after the costume contest.”
I was half afraid she couldn’t hear me, but she called back that she would—just before she rounded the corner.
Cursing myself for forgetting, I grabbed the sword and scabbard and trotted down the hallway after her.
Things were chaotic in the main ballroom with half of the hundreds of attendees showcasing their group costumes and the other half wandering around looking at them. Sarah was just ahead of me, and I plunged through the crowd, trying to catch her. Not sure why—just didn’t want our time together to end so abruptly. But just as I was a foot or two from her, she’d made it to the largest display of all.
At least a dozen pairs of so-called “animals” were grouped in front of a large backdrop showing an Ark. Sarah dashed up to the only man without a partner and grasped his arm, striking a pose as the others had. Her partner had on a black mask and drawn on whiskers and looked displeased at her later arrival. Asshole.
And the stuck up man-mouse was not the only one displeased. Michelle, standing some distance away, surveyed the display, her face beneath her mask a study in disgust. Her frown deepened when she saw me looking over at Sarah, but after another moment it dissolved into an obviously fake, thin smile.
She started over to me, but then I heard a loud whistle that, judging by the decibels, could only have come from Ryan. He’d had the annoying habit of hailing me that way since high school.
By the time I made it to the corner where our space was, my fellow horsemen were already in place. “War. Death. Pest,” I said by way of greeting.
“Pestilence,” Tyler said. “Where’ve you been?”
“With a chick—where else? You can tell because his fly is still open,” Adam said, causing me to look down reflexively, but it was fine.
“Jackass,” I said. And he was. But these were my buddies. We’d been friends since high school, and while only Ryan and I talked daily, Tyler and Adam were still some of my favorite guys in the world. What I’d lacked in closeness to family growing up, I’d made up for with my friends.
While the crowds milled about and my buddies and I tried to look appropriately apocalyptic, I couldn’t get Sarah out of my mind. It was true that I didn’t have a great track record with doing the right thing for women, but maybe this time could be different. I’d only shared a short time with her, but there was definitely potential there. Who knew what it might lead to? Already, I was thinking of restaurants I’d like to take her to. And naughty things I’d like to do with her. The latter thought was a very familiar one, but the former was new. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt so excited about someone, the last time I’d felt this sense of possibility.
And I didn’t know anything about her—nor she, me. She didn’t even know my real name, for Christ's sake. But I’d remedy that right after this ridiculous spectacle. We’d change, and I’d take her out for coffee and we’d get to know each other without masks. Without mystery. And who knows, maybe she’d agree to spend the night with me. Normally, the thought of a woman in my home, my personal space, was an unpleasant one. I preferred to go to a hotel or the woman’s place. But with Sarah? Somehow that didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. In fact, it sounded like something pretty damn special.
Penny
Nothing could ruin my good mood tonight. Not my fellow mouse sniffing with disapproval over my tardiness. And not Michelle glaring daggers at me before she took her place in the center of the display. Her gorgeous pink gown seemed at odds with the white robes she’d put on the buff body-builder she’d gotten to play Noah, but it didn’t matter to me what she did. All that mattered was that I’d see him soon. Zorro. Biting back a smile, I realized that I’d probably better stop mentally referring to him that way. I’d be learning his name soon enough.
But first, we had to stand here, arm and arm, looking eager to climb onto the painted set depicting a boat behind us. Did the assembled crowd realize that the implication of this contest entry meant we’d be saved and they’d drowned? If so, they didn’t seem to care.
People walked slowly past our display as well as the other entries. Out of the corner of my eye, I kept a lookout for Zorro, but there were so many men dressed in black it was impossible. Then the judges were there, and I did my best to hold my pose and smile under their scrutiny.
When it was over, my partner walked off without a second glance my way, which was fine with me. I had someone more important to find. But there were people everywhere, and the chaos of the crowd meant I wasn’t even sure which way the entrance was.
Then a slim man in black sidled up to me. “Darla is pissed you’ve been gone so long,” my coworker Manuel said. “She said as soon as this is over, you’re to change and get back to the kitchen to help us pack up.”
“I will,” I said. “There’s just something I need to do first.” I’d hoped to spend more time talking to Zorro after this, but Manuel was right—I was here to work. So I’d just get Zorro’s number and then finish up in the kitchen. Who knew—maybe he wouldn’t mind waiting for me. That thought made me flush with pleasure.
“Chica, she’s really mad. You’d better come quick.”
“I will,” I called after him as he turned and disappeared into the crowds again. A quick glance at the departing crowds told me there was no way I was getting anywhere near the main entryway now, so I decided to change. I’d heard another woman, a lioness, say that the assistants would only be upstairs for a short time to help us out of these dresses.
And they were, but there were a lot of us to help. Impatiently, I waited my turn, doing what I could while waiting, taking off the wig, washing off the makeup, etc.
At last it was my turn, and minutes after that, I emerged from the restroom, dressed as a caterer again. The other women who’d
gotten assistance before me were already gone, so I didn’t have to endure any strange looks about my new attire.
Just when I was leaving the room, Michelle swept in, still in her pink finery. “Oh good, I was hoping you were still here.”
She was? She’d never seemed to pay any attention to me, before tonight.
“The Fitzgeralds need some help.”
“Who?”
“An older couple. Very wealthy. Very sweet,” she added almost as an afterthought. “He’s in a wheelchair, she uses a cane. I need you to help get them out to their car.”
“Me? But I have to get back to work. Don’t they have a driver or something?”
“He can’t leave the limo line out front. You just need to help them into the car and then you can go back to scrubbing pots and pans or whatever it is you’re so eager to do.”
“But—” I started to tell her there was someone I had to meet, but reconsidered. Michelle had a history of belittling things I cared about.
“You owe me,” she hissed, her sudden venom catching me off guard. “I told you to be in the staging area at quarter to twelve. Not dashing up at the last minute making a spectacle of yourself. You owe me,” she repeated. “Or should I go report to your boss that you were unwilling to help some elderly guests?”
“No,” I said hastily. “I’ll help. Of course I’ll help.” And I would—but quickly. Zorro would wait a little bit longer, wouldn’t he? I was almost positive he would.
Ten minutes later, Michelle and I were waiting with the Fitzgeralds at a side entrance when their limo turned up. My stepsister had been right about one thing. They really were a sweet old couple. Mrs. Fitzgerald had been regaling me with tales of great costume balls she’d been to in years past. “The ones during the war were the best, my dear. We all made do with less, and everyone was so clever.”
Then the limo pulled up, and a driver in a gleaming silver suit wheeled Mr. Fitzgerald down the sidewalk to the car. Mrs. Fitzgerald leaned heavily on my arm as Michelle walked on her other side. She didn’t seem to want to touch the elderly woman, but it was good she was there in case Mrs. Fitzgerald lost her balance.
Once at the limo, the driver began the elaborate process of lifting Mr. Fitzgerald into the large car, and I helped Mrs. Fitzgerald. By the time they were both settled, I was ready to dash back to the entryway, but the older woman tugged my sleeve. “Can you help us with our seatbelts, dear?”
Michelle was talking to the driver, who was nodding. Then she handed him something, it looked like money. She was tipping him? That seemed unusually generous of her.
“Dear?” came a quavery voice.
Oh, right, the seatbelts. After several unsuccessful attempts to reach over the elderly lady, I finally just climbed into the car, sitting on the seat that faced the older couple as I managed to fasten one seatbelt and then the other. “Thank you, my dear,” she said, and her husband repeated his thanks.
“No problem,” I said, cheerful in the knowledge that after this, I’d get to go see Zorro. But then Mrs. Fitzgerald’s car door swung shut with a thunk. Had the driver done that? I slid down the seat, intending to let myself out, when the car shifted on its shocks. The driver had just gotten in. Did he even know I was back here?
Turning, I encountered an opaque glass partition separating us from the front seat. Meanwhile, a faint vibration told me that he’d turned started the engine. “Excuse me, I’m still—” My rather desperate utterance was cut off when the car abruptly pulled away from the curb. I’d been reaching for the door, but now I had to use that hand for balance as the car picked up speed.
“Hey! I’m not supposed to be in here. Stop. Stop!” I cried.
And I banged on the window.
But the car kept going.
Penny
One month after the ball
“Why won't you go out with him?” My best friend Jana smiled at me, her BLT shedding pieces of lettuce as she gestured expansively.
Because I don’t even know who he is, I thought, trying to recall the way he smiled. Or the way he’d run his fingers up and down my back. Or anything. Some parts of that night were a blur despite my best efforts. Other parts came back to me at the oddest times. I’d see a tall man with dark hair at the grocery store and catch my breath as I examined him. Or I’d pass someone at the park and catch a whiff of cologne that smelled a little like his. I looked for his face in every man I saw, but I never found him.
“Earth to Penny. Stay with me here. He’s a nice guy.”
“You never met him,” I said absently.
“He’s my cousin.” She said, staring at me. “So yeah, our parents thought it appropriate to introduce us a long time ago. What’s with you today?”
Oh, yeah. Her cousin Greg that she wanted to fix me up with. Jana brought him up at least twice a year. We’d been best friends since we were roommates our freshman year of college. But I’d never met Greg the Great.
“Are you okay?” She leaned over and touched my arm, her green eyes peering up at me, giving me her teacher look. Jana was barely five-feet tall, but she was a commanding presence, which was good because she taught sixth grade. Half the students were taller than her, but she kept them in line.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry, I’m a little out of it today.”
“Just give him a chance.” She added another sweetener to her coffee. We were at a cafe halfway between her apartment and mine.
“I just… it’s not the right time.” How could I think about dating when the only man I wanted to date had disappeared? I didn't even know if he’d waited to meet me the night of the ball. The limo driver hadn’t stopped until we’d arrived at the Fitzgeralds’. Then he’d apologized profusely and offered to take me back, but by the time we got the older couple into their home and went back to the mansion, everyone was gone.
Had Zorro tried to find me after that night? I’d certainly tried to find him. Many times. Tried to get a guest list to the ball. Tried to get hold of Michelle, but she hadn’t taken my calls. Read every article I could about the ball and about other charity events. Or any high society events, for that matter. Because he was definitely upper class. He’d fit in that world. He’d been confident and collected. But I hadn’t found a trace of him in any of the society columns in the newspaper or online.
“Why not? Come on. Not every guy is like Chad.”
Crap, I wish she hadn’t brought him up. Which was probably uncharitable of me. Poor Jana had lent me her ear many, many times on the subject of Chad Jenkins. And there was no way she could know that a tall, dark, and handsome masked man had wiped all thoughts of my ex-husband out of my mind. “I know not all guys are like him.”
She sighed. “You say you do, but I wonder. I know how much he hurt you.”
“Can we talk about something else?” She’d seen the whole thing unfold. Chad and I meeting our sophomore year of college. Dating throughout our junior year. Living together our senior year. Getting married right after graduation… and then getting divorced eleven months later.
“I just mean that I understand why it’s hard for you to meet someone new. To open up to a man. To trust a man. It still pisses me off every time I think of the way he left you, and right after your father had died…”
My best friend trailed off, her normally cheerful face looking solemn. I loved her, but sometimes she drove me crazy. Like a sister would, I supposed. A real sister, not a distant, aloof stepsister like Michelle.
Putting my napkin on the table, I pushed my chair back. “I need to get going.”
“But you haven’t eaten,” Jana said, looking at the two bites I’d taken out of my sandwich. Hers was almost all gone. For a tiny woman, she ate a ton. “I’m sorry I brought up Chad.”
“It’s not that. I’m just not hungry. I wasn’t feeling well before… I was sick to my stomach this morning. Must have been something I ate at dinner yesterday.” Sometimes the catering company let my coworkers and me take home some of the leftover food, but the pork
chop I’d had last night hadn’t agreed with me. “I just feel a little queasy. I’m sure it’ll go away soon.”
Blake
Two months after the ball
How was it possible to lose an entire person in this day and age? That question had haunted me for two months. We lived in the age of Facebook. People took pictures of everything. Video of everything. There was no privacy whatsoever. Everything everyone did was seen by someone. Except, somehow, for Sarah.
But that wasn’t her real name. I’d found out in the weeks since the ball that Sarah Green was supposed to be the mouse, but her grandmother had had a heart attack. So someone had found a last-minute replacement. That was the girl I met. The girl I kissed. The girl I’d thought about every day since. Only no one knew who she was.
“Easy there,” Ryan called from the batting cage next to mine. “Baseball’s not generally considered a violent sport.”
“Fuck off,” I said, to let him know I was okay. That’s how we talked most the time. When I was with Ryan, I often regressed to my immature high school self instead of the respectable image I presented to my staff at my company. When was the last time I’d let my guard down around anyone other than Ryan? Oh yeah—with her. With Not-Sarah. Since I didn’t have a name for her, that’s how I’d started thinking of her. I didn’t know who she was, but I knew she wasn’t the woman who was supposed to have worn the costume that night.
So it seemed like an appropriate name. It was either that or Cinderella, since she’d run off as the clock struck midnight. Too bad she hadn’t left so much as a glass slipper behind. Probably would have made it a lot easier to find her. How many stores in town sold shoes made from glass?
It still didn’t seem possible that no one knew who she was. I talked to a good two-thirds of the people who’d been part of the Noah’s Ark display. None of them knew her, not even that asshole who’d stood arm-in-arm with her during the judging. They all said the same thing. She was a quiet girl who rushed up at the last minute and rushed off as soon as the contest was over. No one knew who asked her to be a part of it. No one knew anything.
Tempting: A Cinderella Billionaire Story Page 5