Once Upon a Valentine

by Stephanie Bond

  I hate Valentine’s Day.

  Ginger swallowed past the lump in her throat and began to gather her things, dropped her phone back into her handbag and pulled her coat on.

  “More coffee?” a white-haired lady asked just before she stood up.

  “Oh, no. No, thank you.”

  The woman glanced at the empty seat across from her. “Romeo didn’t show?”

  Ginger tensed, wanting to deny it but deciding that it didn’t really matter. “Afraid not. And his name was Brad.”

  “Then Brad wasn’t the right Romeo for you.”

  “You’re probably right.” She grabbed her long, wavy hair and pulled it over her shoulder. “Your flyers are misleading.”

  “Flyers?”

  “The ones that promise that this place can help a girl find her true love. I get that it’s just a line, but…oh, I don’t know. Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

  The woman’s smile only grew warmer. “This…Brad. Did he give you any warning he wouldn’t show up?”

  Ginger thought about it. “Well, he was gorgeous and successful. I guess that was warning enough.” She clutched the strap of her bag that held a manuscript she was currently editing—retellings of well-known fairy tales. It was one bright spot in her week. She was loving every page of it. “Forget it, I’m just feeling sorry for myself. It’s this stupid day. It brings out the worst in me. It just reminds me that I’m alone and, well, maybe sometimes I don’t want to be. Not all the time. It’s so hard finding somebody really great.”

  “But not impossible.”

  Well, that was true. Her parents had married after knowing each other exactly two days after they’d met. And thirty-five years of marriage later, they were still madly in love. They’d met on a blind date. Maybe that was why Ginger had been so willing to give it a shot tonight.

  They were on a Greek Islands cruise right now. Three weeks of romance to celebrate their anniversary. Their Valentine’s Day anniversary.

  Not everybody is lucky enough to find that kind of love, she reminded herself. Most people never do.

  The thought made her sad.

  “It just feels like I have to do all the work,” she said to the old woman. “I need to look, I need to search and spend my time and effort on finding someone. Just once, I wish my life was like a…like a fairy tale. For men to want me without me having to do anything at all. I want them to fall under my spell so I can finally figure out who is the perfect man for me without people playing head games and everything being a struggle.” She suddenly laughed at how absurd she sounded. “Sorry, I’m babbling. Too much caffeine, I guess.”

  The lady held up her finger. “Wait here just a moment, dear. I think I have something that might help you.”

  She did? Unless she had a gorgeous single son hiding in the kitchen, ready to fall madly in love with her, Ginger found that extremely hard to believe.

  The woman disappeared into the back room and returned a minute later. “Eat this. It will make everything better.”

  Ginger looked down at the napkin she held. On it was a small gingerbread man. Icing was piped on him to make him look modern—with a suit, a tie and a smile on his gingerbread face.

  “My perfect man,” she said. “Totally edible.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  She laughed. “A cookie’s going to help me, you think? And how is it going to do that?”

  The woman’s smile held. “Eat it and let it work its special magic. It will give you exactly what you want. It will lead you to the perfect man for you before midnight tonight. I promise it will.”

  Midnight on Valentine’s Day. This sounded like a fairy tale in the making.

  Ginger laughed. If nothing else, the ridiculous statement had cheered her up. A magic cookie, huh? Sure, it was. Well, it wasn’t a miracle or true love, but it was a free cookie.

  “Thanks,” she said, still smiling as she took a small bite from the shoulder, chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed. “Magic cookies are delicious. Who knew?”

  “Sit,” the woman said. “Have another coffee. I’ll make it a decaf this time. You’ll feel better in a minute.”

  It was surprising how good the gingerbread man was. Melt in the mouth, buttery—sweet, but not too sweet. Perfect. It might not really be magic, but it filled Ginger with a warm feeling inside, like the cookies her mom used to make when she was a little girl, fresh from the oven just in time for her to come home from school. They’d been warm and tasted exactly like love. It reminded Ginger of a time when things were simple and she could take life as it came, rather than trying to analyze everything first.

  That was a good lesson to learn, that life doesn’t have to be any more complicated than a cookie unless you let it. And Valentine’s Day was just another day on the calendar, nothing more than a sneaky way to get through the coldest part of the year.

  Maybe that’s how the woman thought this cookie would work its magic. To remind Ginger not to take things so seriously.

  “My goodness,” a voice said to her left. “You’re lovely.”

  Ginger blinked with surprise and looked up to her right. A man stood there. He was fiftyish, with dark hair that was gray at the temples.

  “Excuse me?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Uh…” She frowned. “It’s Ginger.”

  “Ginger,” he repeated slowly, as if appreciating the taste of each syllable. He gave her a warm smile and glanced down at the crumbs left over on her napkin from the cookie. “That’s my favorite spice.”

  Sure, there was that. But she’d originally been named after the movie star on Gilligan’s Island. Her father had been a big fan of the show and when his baby daughter had been born with a shock of red hair, she’d received the name of the stranded movie star.

  “Why are you all alone?” the man asked. “You should be with someone who will treat you right, especially on a night like this. Let’s go somewhere tonight. Anywhere you like.”

  Ginger stared at him blankly. “Is this a joke? Because, trust me, I’m not really in the mood. It’s been a lousy evening.”

  “I’m not joking. I’m thinking dinner, dancing. It is Valentine’s Day.”

  This was very true.

  “Excuse me?” A woman in her fifties approached him with a sour look on her face. “What on earth are you doing?”

  He glanced at her. “I’m asking Ginger to go to dinner with me.”

  “Yes, I can see that. My eyes and ears are working just fine, Larry.” The woman then turned her glare on Ginger. “You need to stay away from my husband.”

  Ginger’s brows shot up. “Your husband?”

  “Larry—” her voice turned shrill “—we’re leaving. Now.”

  Larry reluctantly did as his wife asked, casting a sad look at Ginger. “Maybe another time.”

  “Um…I doubt it.”

  Larry’s wife took him by the arm tightly and directed him toward the door. He cast a last, regretful look over his shoulder before they left the café.

  “That,” Ginger said as the woman who’d given her the cookie returned with a pot of coffee to refresh her mug, “was bizarre.”

  She nodded. “Men can be unpredictable when it comes to romance.”

  “That wasn’t romance. I didn’t even know him.”

  The woman shrugged. “You did say you wanted your life to be like a fairy tale, right? Just like the one in your bag?”

  How did the woman know what Ginger had in her bag? “Yes, but—”

  “Sometimes wishes come true.” She winked. “Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, my dear.”

  Ginger watched her depart back behind the counter. It had been a very strange night. Maybe she’d forgo the cupcakes and head straight to the liquor store for something a bit stronger than red wine.

  Out of curiosity, she pulled the manuscript out of her leather bag and stared at the next story she was set to edit: “The Gingerbread Man.”

  Well, that was definitely a
fairy tale. However, it wasn’t exactly one with princesses and princes, royal weddings and happy endings. It was more about a cookie who ran really fast when it realized everyone wanted to eat it.

  She definitely hadn’t wished for that. She’d wished for…what? She racked her brain. For men to show interest in her, for her to be the one to pick and choose who she wanted. Kind of like a less dramatic and more pleasant, real-life version of The Bachelorette. No gingerbread cookies need apply, other than the one she just ate, of course.

  Her bag fell to the ground as she slid off her seat and got to her feet. Someone close by reached for it.

  “Here,” a young blond man said, holding her bag out to her, a wide smile stretching across his face. “You dropped this.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She shoved the manuscript back inside.

  “My pleasure. Really.” He cupped her chin, then leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against hers.

  “Hey!” She jumped back from him, shocked by the unexpected kiss. “What was that for?”

  He frowned. “It’s so strange, but I couldn’t resist. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, just…don’t do that again.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to see the man’s wife, or girlfriend, glaring at her as though she was some sort of a man-stealing seductress. It was too bad, really. This one was really attractive. And a good kisser. Still, he wasn’t acting rationally, and kissing strangers just wasn’t her style.

  Ginger slipped outside before she started to laugh hysterically. It was all so absurd. Two men, already with other women, had shown interest in her. Out of the blue. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Only—with someone available.

  “That lady was right,” she said under her breath. “I’d wished for more attention and I got it. Maybe that cookie was magic.”

  As if. Ginger might edit fairy tales, but she didn’t necessarily believe in them. She might be a romantic, but she was a realistic one. What had happened with the two men had just been a fluke. She had taken extra time with her hair and makeup that evening. Maybe that was all it took to attract such attention.

  Maybe next time she’d attract somebody single.

  When her laughter finally faded, she dug into her bag and pulled out her phone, leaning against the brick wall next to the café’s doors. She quickly called Stephen.

  “Hello?” he answered. “See what I did there? I answered my phone with the common phrase ‘hello.’ None of this ‘uh-huh’ stuff.”

  “Very impressive.”

  “What’s going on? Has Mr. Perfect proposed yet?”

  “I’m afraid it wasn’t a match made in heaven.”

  “Oh, no. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

  “You don’t sound all that sorry.” She frowned. “Are you drunk right now?”

  “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “Things aren’t working out with the talented tongue?”

  “The talented—? Oh, right. Her. Yeah, she’s…gone. Hell, who needs her? I mean, how much sex can one man handle, especially on a Tuesday night? I’m a weary, old middle-aged man now, you know.”

  She couldn’t help but grin. An attractive and sexy man, yes. An old one…definitely not. “Listen, you wouldn’t believe what just happened to me.”

  “What?”

  “This woman—I think she owns this café…well, she gave me a cookie—she called it a magic cookie. Anyway, I ate it and I’ve been hit on twice.”

  “A magic cookie?” he repeated dryly.

  “I know, it sounds bizarre, but it sort of granted me my wish.”

  “You made a wish?”

  She sighed. “I wished my life was a fairy tale when it came to men. For them to want me without me having to lift a single finger. So I could have the pick of whomever I wanted, easy as pie. Or…easy as cookies.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “Kind of like the Gingerbread Man, I guess. You know how everyone chased him because they all wanted to eat him?”

  “So instead of the Gingerbread Man, it’s Ginger Redman who’s in danger of being chased and potentially devoured?”

  She couldn’t ignore the edge of humor in his voice. He wasn’t taking this seriously. At all. “Pretty much.”

  There was a short silence. “So, you’re saying that this wish of yours came true and now men are magically hitting on you. Welcome to reality as a gorgeous woman.”

  She ignored his sarcasm. “Problem is, both men were already with other women.”

  “Sounds like you should head directly home, order a pizza and stay far away from bad men with big appetites.”

  “I’m thinking you might be right.”

  “Off to bed with you, Ms. Redman. I insist. And I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “And, Ginger…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry about Mr. Perfect. But if he wasn’t everything you hoped he’d be, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place.”

  He sounded so sincere that it made a lump form in her throat. “Thanks.”

  Ginger ended the call and started walking. It was only a few blocks to her apartment, no more than a ten-minute trip.

  It didn’t take long, though, for her to realize that she had a bit of a problem. The two guys in the café? They were only the beginning.

  She was being checked out by every man she passed. A few of them even whistled at her appreciatively.

  Strange, very strange.

  Another man fell into step with her after a block and a half.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said with a big smile.

  “Uh…thank you.”

  “Can I buy you a coffee? A drink?”

  She swept her eyes over him. Tall, dark and definitely handsome. Plus, no wedding ring. “Thanks, but…I’m headed home. It’s been a long day.”

  He nodded. “Okay, no problem. But here’s my card…” He thrust a business card at her and she took it tentatively. He was a lawyer. “Call me anytime. I mean that.”

  She cleared her throat and tucked the card into her purse. “Yeah, uh, maybe. Thanks.”

  She continued walking. What the hell was going on?

  Another wolf whistle caught her attention.

  Unbelievable. She’d suddenly turned into the most irresistible woman in Toronto. For a moment she thought this might be a practical joke, but set up by whom? Nobody but Stephen and the woman in the café knew what she’d wished for.

  She’d asked for her pick of any man she wanted.

  A slow smile spread across her face. It couldn’t possibly be real. But what if it was?

  That would be kind of awesome.

  “Ginger!” someone called to her. She turned to see a man tentatively approaching her. He was gorgeous—over six feet tall, built, with dark hair and light brown eyes.

  It was Brad, her AWOL blind date. She’d seen a picture so she knew what he looked like.

  “Brad,” she said with surprise and more than a twinge of annoyance at being stood up at the café. “What happened to you earlier?”

  “Wait a minute, you’re not a dog,” he said with confusion. “He told me you were a dog, but you—you’re beautiful. Ginger, forgive me. I’m sorry I didn’t show up.”

  Somebody had told him she was a dog? “Where were you?”

  “At a bar, drinking. Sorry, I…I shouldn’t have done what I did. I had no idea how beautiful you are.’

  “Well, thanks, but…you did see my picture already. I sent it to you.”

  He shrugged. “Pictures can be manipulated. Who knows what’s real anymore?”

  Good question, actually.

  “And now you want me to forgive you,” she said slowly, cringing as a man walked past them and whistled at her again. She wasn’t used to be noticed quite this much. It made her feel incredibly self-conscious.

  “Yes, forgive me. Let me make it up to you. I’m…” He shook his head as if to try to clear it. “I’m feeling much different t
han I was before. You’re something special, Ginger. I don’t want to lose this chance with you.”

  Despite his very convincing words, there was something off in his eyes. A slightly glazed look and she didn’t think it was only from a few drinks. It was as if he was under some sort of…spell.

  Magic-cookie alert!

  Her wish…this was more proof that it had come true. Brad had just done a one-eighty—one moment fleeing the scene and standing her up, the next apologizing and calling her beautiful. Not that it wasn’t nice to hear, but…

  This wasn’t real.

  The thought was like a blow. It had seemed so wonderful and full of possibility only a minute ago, but now she saw the reality. As much as she would like to believe that all these men had suddenly become attracted to her en masse, it simply wasn’t the truth.

  She’d be more disappointed if she actually cared about this guy standing in front of her. But she didn’t. It was a bit of a relief to realize it, really.

  Brad was very handsome, sure, but she wasn’t interested—not anymore.

  “Let’s go somewhere and talk,” he suggested.

  “I don’t think so. Happy Valentine’s Day, Brad. I hope you find the right woman for you. But it’s not going to be me.”

  Ginger turned and started walking away from him.

  Tonight she had more men interested in her than she’d ever had in her entire life. And she didn’t want any of them in return. She wanted the man she fell for to be madly in love with her in return—and not only because of a spell that would wear off at the stroke of midnight.

  Another man whistled at her as she passed him at a bus stop.

  This might turn out to be a long night.

  It was official. Magic or not, Valentine’s Day sucked.

  2

  MR. PERFECT WAS LONG GONE by now. What a jerk.

  Maybe now he could stop obsessing about Ginger finding herself in the arms of the wrong man tonight—or any man, really. But especially if that man looked like a fitness model.

  Ginger.

  He hated that he was stuck in this bar all by himself, on a stupid holiday, thinking about her. Feeling jealous even though he had no right. And, the worst part was, just the thought of Ginger—her thick red hair, her beautiful curves, her long legs…and everything in between—made his cock painfully hard.