Sleeping with Beauty

by Donna Kauffman

  She imagined that Jason had probably been right in the middle of his exuberant recounting of winning the state basketball championship with his three-point jumper on the buzzer, but was now unable to speak because his gaze had once again connected with hers. Then all the excited buzz of the crowd around him would die as everyone looked from him to the object of his obvious lust and affection. Of course he’d cross the floor, setting their drinks on the tray of a passing waiter, never once breaking their soul-deep eye-to-eye contact. Heedless of the heads turning in his wake, he would make his way to her side, take her hands, bringing them to his lips as he apologized for leaving her alone for so long. Then, after brushing his warm lips across her bare knuckles, he would bend her back over one arm for a soul-searing kiss that left the men in the room grinning and the women swooning.

  Instead, to her absolute horror, he grinned broadly, then gestured for her to come over. To join him. And other people. His crowd. People who knew exactly who he was, and who he’d been, and what he was now. People who had no clue she was Lucy Harper, high school geek-o-rama-cum-third-grade-teacher-and-wannabe-swan.

  She swallowed hard, wishing a passing waiter would appear now so she could down a glass or six of whatever happened to be on his tray at the moment.

  “Vivian, where are you when I need you?” she whispered beneath her breath. If there was any way she could have dissolved and magically reappeared behind the safety of the tinted windows of the Glass Slipper limo, she would have. As it was, her only means of escape lay beyond the beckoning Jason.

  She should have gone with spontaneity.

  Chapter 19

  As one, all eyes in his adoring crowd turned to see who he was motioning to. The moment was finally upon her.

  “Don’t trip. Find your rhythm,” she whispered beneath her breath. Clutching her shawl, wanting desperately to check her hair, but not even daring so much as a hair flip, she cautiously made her way over to the small group. Attempt a winning smile? Or play it cool and casual? As if she wore stuff like this, dripping in fine jewels, every night of the week. She was so nervous she wasn’t sure she could pull off anything more than a sickly grin at this point. And what would she say when they looked for her badge and asked for introductions? Jason couldn’t know it was her, so that would prove awkward right from the start, pointing out that even he didn’t know her name. So how special could she be?

  Then she was there. And the time for subterfuge plotting was over.

  Jason beamed at her and made room for her in his circle—the inner circle—as he handed her her drink. “Sorry, I got waylaid by this merry band of revelers.”

  Everyone chuckled like that was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Boy, she wished she had a portable backup support group. That would come in handy when she was trying to explain multiplication tables to a bunch of hungry, tired eight-year-olds. “Look, they think it’s fun, so will you!”

  She managed a light smile as she glanced up at Jason while simultaneously avoiding making eye or badge contact with anyone else. If she didn’t know who they were, and they didn’t know who she was, well, then it was safe to say she could pretend none of this mattered. Right? She stifled the urge to down her champagne in one unladylike swallow.

  “They insisted I tell them the story about the championship final point.” He grinned his handsome-prince grin at the group. “I haven’t thought about that night in years.”

  Everyone knew that was a lie, including Lucy. He’d made it sound like he’d had so many amazing moments since then that he could scarcely remember something as minor as winning the state championship for their high school for the first time in its fifty-year history. With a three-pointer. On the buzzer. In double overtime.

  Sure, he’d gone on to some better-than-modest success in college, but he probably had the front-page story laminated and tacked to the ceiling over his bed for daily motivation.

  Jason’s bed. Not a safe thinking topic, no matter how much stimulation-numbing alcohol was at hand.

  “So, it was down to three seconds,” said someone in the crowd, encouraging the story back on track.

  Lucy had no idea who the speaker was because she was too busy slowly taking sips of her champagne and casting her winning smile at Jason. Lucy had a feeling she rated winsome more than winning. Not the kind of thing that got his attention. But at the moment she was more interested in getting him back into his story so the rapt attention of the clustered group would turn back to him. And away from her. Before anyone realized no introductions had been made.

  She felt a few assessing glances thrown her way, but they were all quickly swept back into the excitement of his moment. And, before she knew how it happened, she was quickly relegated to the starstruck wanna-be-seen-with position. No one cared about her, because she obviously didn’t matter.

  Well, look on the bright side, she told herself. You didn’t make a fool out of yourself. You got your dance. You got your kiss. On the rooftop, under the stars, no less. All in all, maybe not a slam-dunk ace on her final, but a pretty decent showing. Sleeping Beauty has finally awakened . . . so what if she’s still a bit groggy?

  Lucy sipped the rest of her drink as the high-school championship game story segued directly into the college hoops sagas. She had to admit he was a very dynamic speaker. She hadn’t the vaguest clue about the difference between running the two-three down low and taking the defense to a perimeter feed, or why running the latter had saved them from early elimination, but he made it all sound so exciting, she was almost as entranced as the rest of them. She bet he made an awesome trial attorney. All he had to do was stack the jury with any representation of the opposite sex and he was well on his way to securing victory for his client. Guilty or not.

  Well into his element now, the crowd grew, and she eventually got shuffled back into the second row, behind Jason’s elbow. Then the third. He was giving the play-by-play of his latest trial victory now, and her champagne glass was empty. No one was paying her any attention, and she decided that was perfectly fine with her.

  So it wasn’t quite the fairy-tale ending she’d imagined when he’d kissed her. So he wasn’t Mr. The Right One, but Mr. The Right One Tonight. Or just Mr. The Right One for a Brief Moment. The true test was that she was able to enjoy what she had gotten, be satisfied with her fiasco-free performance here tonight, and leave with fond memories of the evening intact. Lucy Harper really had grown up. She was bulletproof.

  Placing her drink on an empty tray, she headed carefully for the door. No point in giving anyone a last-minute, full-scale Harperesque production.

  After navigating her way back down to the ballroom, she zeroed in on the lobby and the freedom that lay just beyond. She paused just outside the ballroom doors to fish out her limo pager, when someone put a hand on her arm and lightly tugged her back. Her heart tripped, and she realized then that she wasn’t quite as grown-up and mature as she’d thought. But she turned to find it was Grady. Not Jason. She tried to mask her disappointment, but Grady knew her all too well.

  “I thought you’d gone home,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I figured it was my reunion, too. And I’d paid for the ticket. Might as well have my free drinks out of the deal. Besides, Jana wants me to bring back the best dirt to take her mind off her puke-o-rama sessions.”

  Lucy smiled. Grady was the best guy friend ever. A sad little pang followed as she remembered that he didn’t seem interested in being her best guy friend. Not anymore.

  “So, leaving before the ball is over?”

  She knew him all too well, too. She’d hurt his feelings earlier. And though she still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done to put herself in the wrong, she hadn’t meant to hurt him. “The princess didn’t wear comfortable slippers,” she said, unsure with him for possibly the first time ever. “Why do women wear these instruments of torture, anyway?”

  The ballroom doors opened as a few other alumni came out. They both looked inside to see Jason, still the cent
er of attention, now holding court alongside the dance floor. “What happened with Prince Charming?”

  “He has a lot of loyal subjects.”

  “Not you?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “It was a nice evening. While it lasted.”

  Grady smiled then, his true smile. The one she’d been missing so much. Her heart filled with relief, even as guilt poured in to fill the remaining nooks and crannies. She wanted her best friend back. To that end, she made a solemn vow right then to be a better best friend in return. To both Jana and Grady. Lucy’s Big Night was over. And in the end, both of her friends had come through for her, or tried their best. Now it was her turn to focus on being there for them.

  “I said earlier,” she began, “that I didn’t need you to rescue me anymore. Maybe that’s so,” she said, then quickly hurried on when that warm smile flickered. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still need you. I might need to fall down on my own sometimes, and I know I need to try new things, figure out exactly who I am, on the outside and the inside.” She took his sardonic glance at her dress in stride. “I didn’t say I’d mastered it just yet. This was Vivian’s idea. But I had to give it a shot. How else am I going to get the answers I need?”

  “You could just listen to me. You know I’m always right when it comes to what’s best for you.”

  She knocked her knuckles into his arm, then rubbed the spot when he winced. Two-carat prongs made a good weapon, as it turned out. “Sorry. And maybe you are the great arbiter of all things Lucy Harper. Your guidance has always meant a great deal to me. But you’re more at peace with yourself than I am. So you don’t understand when I want to push at the status quo. You think I should be happy as is, just like you. You want me to play it safe and be the same old Lucy Harper. Only I’m tired of playing it safe. I don’t like the status quo.”

  “So, you like this?” He motioned to her dress, then nodded back toward the door, beyond which Jason was holding court. “This was the real you all along, just dying to get out?”

  Lucy stared into the eyes of her best friend . . . and realized there was no way she would ever be able to make him appreciate the benefits a Brazilian wax could bring to a woman’s psyche. How was he really going to understand any of this? “I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t get a little thrill being accepted into the cool-kids group with nary a blink.”

  “I can see where the shocked wow-is-that-really-you reactions would be satisfying. I get that.”

  Something in her expression must have given her away.

  He cocked his head, then zeroed in on her badgeless state. “Wait. They don’t know, do they?”

  She shook her head. “It was enough just to fit in. I didn’t want or need the rest.”

  To her surprise, Grady chuckled.

  “What?” she said, really trying not to be defensive.

  He shook his head, then pulled her into a surprising hug. “Nothing. You’re just . . . so you.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended,” she said, the words muffled against the sleeve of his jacket.

  “Flattered.” He set her back, and his gaze rested on hers, quite sincere. “I’m sorry if I was holding you back. My mistake.”

  “Really? You get it?”

  “Will you ever let me live it down if I tell you that you make a smashing princess?”

  She lit up. “You really think so?”

  “Everybody should be the belle of the ball sometime, I guess.” Grady offered her his arm. “Allow me to escort you to your carriage?”

  She gave him a sideways glance, wondering about the sudden shift in mood. Maybe it was her just being her overly analytical self, reading too much into every little thing of late. Maybe Grady was actually fine with her experimentation into dabbling in the world of the swans now that it seemed to be over. Whatever the case, he was trying, which was more than she’d hoped for earlier, and she was just grateful enough to go with the flow.

  Smiling back at him, she held up her pager thingie. “Wait till you see my carriage, mister.” She pushed the little red button. “Play your cards right and I’ll get the nice driver to take us for a spin around the town.” She slipped her arm through his, but as they turned to head out, the big doors opened behind them and suddenly there was Jason. Larger than life.

  He saw her, his easy, natural smile widening, before flickering slightly when he took in the scene. “Are you leaving?” The question was for her. He barely glanced at Grady.

  Her heart bumped against the inside of her chest. He had come for her after all! She didn’t dare glance at Grady. Dammit! She’d just sort of made peace with him again, and the last thing she wanted was to chance ruining their fresh accord by swooning all over Jason Prescott. And yet . . . the ball wasn’t over. Prince Charming was right in front of her.

  “I was,” she said. Was. Such a nice, wishy-washy kind of word. Not “I am,” all definite, as if he couldn’t change her mind. Saying was implied that she might have been thinking about it, but now . . . who knows?

  He flashed his game-winning smile. “Could I talk to you for a minute before you go?” He finally spared a glance for Grady, all supreme confidence. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Lucy tensed in that moment, praying silently that Grady didn’t choose that moment to make a point by saying something snide. Oh, he’d be all subtle about it, leaving Jason to wonder if he’d just been insulted or not, but she didn’t even want to risk that much. Please, please, don’t mess this up for me.

  “I have a moment,” she blurted quickly. She glanced at Grady, whose expression was unreadable. “I’ll be right back,” she promised him. “If you can wait.”

  “My time is yours.”

  Now she was left wondering. He was being entirely too inscrutable.

  “Friend of yours?” Jason asked, as he took her gently by the elbow and led her several steps away.

  “Yes,” she said, more breathless than she should have been. Damn, but his hands were big. And warm.

  “Date?”

  She laughed. “No. Not in the sense you mean. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  And for a split second, she wondered if Jason had actually been worried that Grady might be competition for him. Boy, wouldn’t Grady get some serious mileage out of that. She hid the amused smile that accompanied the thought.

  “I guess I was a little surprised to find someone like you here, unattached. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes.”

  Her first thought was that if he was so enamored of her, he surely hadn’t shown that back inside the party. But then she felt petty for thinking so selfishly. After all, it was his reunion, too. Surely she couldn’t hold it against him that he wanted to visit and chat with everyone. Considering he’d known everyone—most everyone, anyway, present company excluded—he had a lot more visiting to do than most.

  She glanced up at Jason then, saw the same unshakable smile, and realized that despite the polite chatter, he’d already completely dismissed Grady. Grady might not be competition in her specific case, but it bugged her a little that he’d been so easily dismissed as a challenge. She imagined it was the old us-versus-them, cool-kids-snubbing-the-geek-kids thing that had provoked the feeling. And God knows, Grady was the last guy who needed, much less wanted, defending. But it put a little tarnish on her White Knight’s heretofore blindingly shiny armor.

  “I suppose the same could be said of you,” she replied. Not the snappiest of responses, but she was happy to be stringing intelligible words together. It was far more attractive than just staring at him, entranced and drooling.

  He chuckled. “True. I haven’t been in town much of late. I’ve been defending a big case up in New York.”

  There was a slight pause, and she wasn’t sure if he was setting up a let-me-impress-you name drop (she’d overheard he was defending some NBA star on a felony charge) or if he was expecting her to bat her lashes and ask him to
please, please, tell her all about his big case.

  The moment passed. And she couldn’t tell if she’d gained or lost momentum by not responding in the allotted time. “I suppose that makes it hard to date anyone steadily,” she said.

  “Exactly.” If he was miffed that she hadn’t shown appropriate exultation over his big-time occupation, he didn’t let it show. “But I’m beginning to think that’s a good thing.”

  She raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows.

  “Because I would have hated to run into you tonight and not been able to pursue you.”

  She couldn’t help it. It was such a line. And yet it made her knees go woozy. Yes, yes, she should say something like, “Well, just because I’m here alone tonight doesn’t mean I don’t have men lined up for blocks. Maybe I’m not available for pursuit.” If only she had the nerve to say something so provocative. Bait the big cat.

  But she was pretty much overwhelmed with just standing and not falling over while keeping up the barest pretense of maintaining her end of the conversation. All the while her inner voice was jumping up and down and squealing, “He wants to pursue you!”

  “Well, then,” she said to him, “yay for Fate.”

  Somewhere, Gloria Steinem was weeping.

  He laughed then, a charming little self-deprecating laugh. “You know, I can’t believe we’ve danced, had drinks, the whole bit, and I still don’t know your name.”

  He’d missed the part about the kiss. He couldn’t have forgotten that kiss, could he? Maybe he didn’t want to embarrass her.

  “You are an alumnus, right?” he asked.