Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella

by Holly Jacobs

  Charlie eyed the confection. “It looks sinfully fattening.”

  “Bet you can’t eat the whole thing,” Dan said, challenge in his eyes.

  “You’re on. Winner names their prize.”

  “You got it.”

  The first bite of the pie convinced her that there were angels in heaven. The second bite convinced her that one of the angels might be named Tony.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dan’s eyes kept straying to his passenger, though he could only allow himself to study her in short spurts. The road demanded his attention.

  What the hell was he doing? The entire situation was absurd. Rescuing damsels in distress was something his partner, Con, might do. Not Dan.

  And yet here he was, driving his sleeping princess, unable to keep his eyes off her as he tried to understand how he’d ended up with this woman in his truck.

  Charlie slept soundly in the seat beside him, and that bothered him. She was far too trusting. She was a grown woman and should know better than to take rides from strangers, and even worse, fall asleep like this.

  Naive.

  She looked like a little girl wearing her father’s cast-off clothes. Trusting, naive, innocent, and sweet. Like a puzzle, the day had fed Dan pieces of Charlotte “Charlie” Eaton. Dan was working hard at fitting all those pieces together.

  She was far more suited to someone like Con than the man she’d almost married, from the sounds of it. Con, who laughed easily and loved with just as much ease. Con, who wore his heart on his sleeve. Con wouldn’t be wondering why he’d picked Charlie Eaton up. Rescuing women was Con’s style.

  Conrad Estoban, his partner in Imperial Shipping, was a people person. Actually, Con was a woman person. The female species flocked to him, and somehow Con managed to balance each and every one of them without ever injuring anyone’s tender feelings.

  Dan was the one who stayed behind the scenes and kept things going in the office. He’d once heard Molly, their secretary, say Con was the heart of the business, while he was the backbone. Dan hadn’t taken offense. He liked their arrangement. He wasn’t a people person. He liked being by himself, and he planned to keep it that way.

  At least once he figured out what to do with his runaway bride.

  Picking up hitchhikers was totally out of character for him. And yet he’d stopped for this woman. Getting involved with people was equally out of character, and yet he appeared to be involved with her. With Charlie.

  He couldn’t help but smile. Charlie. The name suited her.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t decide how it happened. All Dan knew was he was now dead center in her life, and he knew himself well enough to realize he wasn’t about to walk away and leave her hanging. The trick would be to solve her problems as soon as possible and then make his escape.

  Daniel Martin, backbone of Imperial Shipping, a man of plans and details, was about to act rashly and impulsively, all for a woman he’d just met. A woman who confused and intrigued him. It wasn’t like him—wasn’t like him at all—and that’s what worried Dan the most.

  As he finished the thought, Charlie woke with a start. Stretching, arching her back like a cat as she yawned. Dan was thankful he had to watch the road. Seeing her out of the corner of his eye was more than enough to raise his temperature by a couple of degrees.

  “Where are we?” Her voice was husky with sleep. It was the kind of voice that brought to mind early morning rendezvous in bed. The image of Charlie in his bed was tantalizing, but he firmly pushed it aside.

  “Dan?” There was concern in that husky voice. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re about a half hour outside of Erie. We dropped off the trailer and you never even moved.”

  “It’s dark,” she said. “We’ve already been to Columbus?”

  “Been there and left.” She hadn’t moved a muscle, despite the noise.

  “Sorry I dozed off there.” She yawned again as she straightened her shirt—his shirt. “I didn’t get much sleep the last week. I spent most of last night trying to sort out my feelings and decide what to do, after the fight.”

  “What fight?”

  “Well, Winslow seemed to feel that him telling me I had to marry him was enough, but it wasn’t. I mean, I used to think I loved the man, so you’d think I’d at least like him now. But last night I discovered that I’m not even sure about that.”

  “He told you that you had to marry him?”

  “I said I was having second thoughts, actually fifth or sixth thoughts, and he said I couldn’t back out the night before the wedding. There was all the expense, all the time, and the fact he’d be embarrassed. He gave me all sorts of reasons why I couldn’t walk away, but there was no mention of love.”

  Dan didn’t say anything. There was just a quiet waiting about his silence, as if he sensed she had something more to say and was anxious to hear it. As if what she had to say mattered.

  “I think I made the right decision, though. I’m tired of my mother trying to turn me into the socialite she’s always longed to be. I’m just me, and I’m tired of pretending to be someone else. I don’t care for champagne—I like beer, very cold beer. I like country music, not chamber music, and . . . and you know, as of today, I’ve even hitchhiked—a definite indicator of nonsocialite status.”

  “Today was your first?” He turned on a signal and moved into the left lane to pass a slow-moving Taurus.

  “First aborted wedding or first time hitchhiking?”

  “Hitchhiking.”

  “Yes, to both. I don’t think I’ll be trying either again.” She settled back in her seat and curled her legs in front of her. “You know just about everything there is to know about me, including my ex-debutante status. Tell me something about you. I’m tired of talking about me. I’m tired of thinking about me. Tell me about Dan . . .”

  “Martin,” he supplied.

  “Dan Martin.” She giggled. “My mother would say no proper lady rides in a man’s semi for hours without knowing his full name. Actually, Mother would say no lady rides in a semi. Period. She always longed to be Lady of the Manor. I think that’s why she was so hot about Winslow and me. She might not have attained the position on her own but hoped to get there through me.”

  He glanced over and saw her frown and then break into a smile. “But I’m done worrying about all of that. So, how long have you been driving a truck, Dan Martin?”

  “Since high school.” It was the truth, just not all of it. He might have picked her up, but he didn’t owe her his life story. He was a private man. He might be stepping out of character today, but he didn’t plan to serve up his life on a platter.

  He wasn’t mentioning the fact that he was co-owner of Imperial Shipping, because she’d mentioned she was done with rich men, and he was becoming more and more rich with each passing day, each new investment. But it wasn’t that he wanted to impress her with his nonrich, nonsociety status. No, he wasn’t mentioning that he owned part of the company because it was none of her business—because he was a private man.

  “You’ve probably been everywhere in the States. I’d love to travel around the country.” There was a wistfulness in her voice. Then she paused, as if she’d disappeared in her thoughts. Those gaps in her conversation made Dan wonder what went on her head.

  What was she thinking?

  What was she feeling? She was right, she didn’t seem too miserable.

  As much as he wondered, Dan didn’t voice his questions. He didn’t voice much.

  Con often said Dan could give lessons in silence to a statue.

  He noticed a car parked on the shoulder of the road with its trunk up. An elderly lady stood behind it.

  “Hang on,” he said, pulling the rig over and easing to a stop.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, breaking her silence.

  “There’s a car back there
and it looks like there’s a problem. It’ll only take me a minute to see what’s wrong.”

  He crawled out of the rig and trotted back to the car. Charlie followed on his heels, unwilling to just wait.

  “Is there a problem, ma’am?” Dan asked.

  The gray-haired woman looked as if she’d been crying, or at least on the verge of tears.

  “I’ve got a flat, but I can’t change it.” She sniffed. “I’ve handled running an entire office for over thirty years, handled a family for almost as long. You’d think I could handle a little flat tire, wouldn’t you? I was a women’s libber, for pity’s sake. I don’t need to depend on a man to handle things for me.”

  “You might not have to depend on one, but maybe just this once you could humor me?” Dan said with a grin. “I mean, I want to impress my girl, and changing your tire might just convince her that I’m a catch. Do you have a spare tire, ma’am?”

  “That was easy enough to find, but I was looking for the jack,” she said.

  The older woman eyed Charlie. “He is a very nice man. If he changes my tire, will you be impressed?”

  Charlie stared at Dan a moment, then nodded. “You’re right, he is a very nice man,” she said loud enough for him to hear.

  A familiar stain crept into his cheeks. She couldn’t resist teasing a little more. “And cute too, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, he is a looker.” The woman moved toward Charlie. “I’m Ida Burton.”

  “Charlie, Charlie Eaton, and your rescuer is Dan.”

  “I’ll have this taken care of in just a couple minutes. Changing a flat tire can be tricky on the interstate,” Dan said, his tone telling Charlie that he didn’t appreciate her teasing, which made it all the more fun.

  “Oh, thank you,” Ida said. “My husband told me I should get a cell phone, but it seemed like such a waste of money. But when the tire went flat, I would have paid anything to be able to call for assistance.”

  Dan hefted the tire and jack out of the trunk and went to work.

  Charlie was treated to a lovely view of his backside as he squatted next to the tire and loosened the nuts. It didn’t look like a backside that spent its days plopped in a seat as Dan drove across the country. Maybe he worked out?

  She studied it a second. Yeah, that backside had to come from working out. He turned and looked her right in the eye, as if he knew she’d been studying his butt. This time Charlie was pretty sure she was the one who blushed.

  “Did you know you’re Dan’s second rescue of the day?” Charlie asked to cover her embarrassment.

  He glowered at her, and Charlie gave him a little smile and wave.

  “His second rescue of the day?” Ida asked.

  “Yep. You see, today’s my wedding day.”

  “Oh, I’m so happy for the two of you.”

  “The almost-groom wasn’t Dan. I left that groom at the altar.”

  “Don’t you think that was a little severe, dear? Not that I’m judging,” Ida hastened to add.

  “Probably. But I tried to tell him, tried to tell my mother, but let myself be talked into going through with it. I thought I could do it. But when I got to the altar and the priest asked if I’d take him forever, I realized I couldn’t, so I ran.”

  Charlie watched Dan work silently on the tire, and smiled. “I ran right into Dan, who rescued me. He seems to be making a habit of rescuing people.”

  “Not a bad habit to have, if you ask me,” Ida said.

  Dan Martin was a hero, riding to the rescue of any damsel in distress.

  Charlie could just imagine how he’d react if she mentioned it. Oh, he’d deny it. She might not have known Dan Martin for long—though it certainly felt as if she’d known him longer than a day—but she already knew him well enough to realize he wouldn’t see changing a tire on the interstate as particularly heroic.

  But she did.

  And so did Ida.

  “There you are, ma’am,” Dan said sweetly to his newest damsel even as he shot an annoyed look at Charlie.

  “That spare should get you to a service station,” he continued. “But don’t neglect getting a new tire on it as soon as possible.”

  “What do I owe you?” Ida asked, fumbling in her purse.

  Charlie knew Dan’s answer before he said it.

  He shrugged. “Nothing. It was no problem.”

  “No problem for you, but a huge problem for me.” She was still rummaging in the purse.

  “You want to pay me back?” Dan said. “Let your husband get you that cell phone and don’t ever get out of your car on a highway again. You could get hit, or worse. Just sit tight in your locked vehicle and wait for someone you know or someone you know you can trust to come, like Triple A or the police. I could have been anyone, including someone who might have hurt you.”

  Ida dropped her purse. “No, you could never hurt me. You’re too good a man. A hero, even. And I’ll get that cell phone, I promise. But, if I’d had it today, I wouldn’t have met you and Charlie. Oh, this has been an adventure.”

  Dan snorted. “You don’t know that I’m not a nutcase who would hurt you.”

  “Of course I do. Why, the minute you walked up to me, I looked in your eyes and I knew you were a kind soul. And Charlie here is a sweet girl. You could do worse, you know. Rumor has it she’s available.”

  Dan sighed the sigh of a man sorely put upon. “Just get the cell phone and call for help next time. Don’t just trust a stranger’s kind soul.”

  “For you, I will.”

  He helped Ida into her car and then stalked back to the truck. Charlie turned to follow him.

  “You’re a lucky lady,” Ida called out the open passenger window. “He’s a rare individual.”

  Charlie might not be lucky in the way the woman meant, but she realized just how lucky she was to have met Dan. “You’re right, ma’am. More right than you know.”

  She trailed after Dan and crawled back into the truck and looked at the man driving it. He was a rare individual.

  “Ready to go?” he asked briskly.

  She snapped her seat belt in place. “All ready.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The minutes passed silently. And though Dan was used to silence, even relished it, he felt uncomfortable with how quiet Charlie was.

  She wasn’t chattering anymore. She was simply staring out the window and occasionally glancing at him. He didn’t need to see her look at him to know whenever she turned her gaze his way. He could feel her eyes upon him.

  The minutes stretched out and Dan became nervous. Was she worried?

  “I’ve told you about my job,” he said in an uncharacteristic bid to start a conversation. “But you haven’t told me what you did before the wedding.”

  “Up until two weeks ago, I worked at the art museum. I quit because I was supposed to go on an extended honeymoon with Winslow.”

  “So what are you going to do when we get back to Erie?” he asked softly.

  She continued looking out the window. “I suppose I’ll go to my mother’s, at least long enough to get my purse. I’ve got some money tucked away. It will help me get back on my feet. Then I’ll have to find a job. They’ve already filled my position at the museum, and I don’t know that there’s much call anywhere else in Erie for art history majors.”

  “You don’t sound enthused at the idea of seeing your mother.” Actually she sounded more miserable at the thought of going to her mother’s than she sounded when discussing her ex-fiancé or failed wedding.

  “Harriet’s going to be in a tizzy,” she said with a heavy sigh.

  He should just drop her off and rid himself of this growing sense of . . . what was it? Duty? Maybe. Whatever the feeling was, it was his until he somehow took care of Charlie’s problem.

  “You don’t have to face her tonight. We can fig
ure out something else.”

  “I have to face her eventually. Might as well get it over with sooner rather than later.” There was resignation in that smoky voice.

  “You’ll stay there?”

  Charlie probably rattled a few brain cells as she shook her head ferociously. “No. I’ll get a hotel room for the night. I can afford that much.”

  “Or . . .”

  “Or?”

  “If you’re not picky, you could stay at my place.”

  He didn’t need to see her to know she was staring at him. He’d be staring at himself if he weren’t driving. He was trying to get rid of her, wasn’t he? Inviting her home wasn’t the way to go about it.

  “I don’t think that would be wise,” she said softly.

  Neither did he, and yet he found himself arguing, “I’ve got an apartment over the garage. It’s not fancy, but it’s more private than a hotel. My nephew goes to Mercyhurst University and uses it during the school year, but he’s home with my brother and his wife for the summer, so it’s vacant. It will need to be cleaned out, but you’re welcome to it.”

  “I think that may be the longest stretch of words I’ve heard you put together.” She smiled a weary smile. “And you truly are a dream come true, but I couldn’t impose.”

  “You wouldn’t be imposing. We’ll just clean it up tomorrow and dig out some fresh sheets. You’ll be set until you figure out what to do next. Doug, my nephew, left all his furniture there, so it won’t be too bad.”

  “Why?”

  “Why clean sheets? Sleeping without sheets isn’t very comfortable.”

  “No. Why are you doing this for me?”

  “I’m discovering that I enjoy playing a white knight.” He’d almost said your white knight. He wasn’t the white knight type, except with Charlie. There was something about her that made him want to take care of her. Something that made him want to wipe away her pain. He wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure why, but from the moment he’d seen her standing in all her finery along the side of the road, he’d felt it. If she was Cinderella, then he was her knight in somewhat-tarnished armor, at least until someone better came along.