Cinderella for a Night

by Susan Mallery

  Jonathan opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. He couldn’t imagine that any of it was real. Him, a father? He didn’t know how. All he knew was the abandonment of his parents and a life of isolation. He didn’t know where to begin to change that for Colton. Cynthia said that what Colton needed the most was love and Jonathan didn’t know how to do that.

  He’d always told himself that families were an invention of the devil and he hadn’t changed his mind. No doubt Lucifer himself was having a good laugh at his expense right about now. Jonathan drew in a deep breath and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He’d never felt more alone in his life. He ached for her.

  And yet he would find a way to go on without her because he couldn’t be the things she needed him to be. Because he didn’t know how to love her and he wouldn’t offer her less than she deserved. No, he thought grimly. All that was bull. He’d never been selfless enough to give a damn about anyone else. The real reason he wouldn’t have her in his world was that he couldn’t risk caring about her and having her leave. Once he allowed himself to love Cynthia, he wouldn’t survive her going away. Because everyone left eventually. They always had.

  Cynthia sat curled up in the lone chair in her bedroom. The cramped quarters—filled with a full-size bed, a small desk and low bookcase—had been her haven for over ten years. She loved this room. All through high school and beyond, it had been her refuge. Yet now it could have been a hotel room for all the comfort it gave.

  She glanced at the clock. It was nearly nine in the evening. She hadn’t eaten, but she wasn’t hungry. She doubted she would be able to sleep later, either. She felt as if she’d been run over and left as roadkill. It hurt to think and breathe and even to stay upright in the chair. If this was love, she’d made a big mistake giving in to it so easily.

  A knock on the door forced her to gather her waning strength enough to speak. “Come in,” she called.

  Jenny entered, carrying a tray with a pot of tea, two cups and a plate of cookies. “Mom says it’s okay not to eat anything, but you have to drink the tea. The cookies are my idea. They always make me feel better.”

  Jenny’s thirteen-year-old features were so earnest and caring, Cynthia couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks. I’m doing okay.”

  Jenny set the tray on the desk, then poured them each a cup of tea. She took hers to the bed and settled cross-legged in the center of the mattress. “You don’t look okay and you don’t act okay. Plus I can tell when you’re lying. Mom says that’s a good thing. That we’re all lousy liars, I mean.” She offered a quick smile that faded almost as soon as it began. “I’m sorry about what happened with Mr. Steele.”

  Cynthia reached for her tea and took a sip of the steaming liquid. “Me, too. I guess it’s going to take some time to get over him.”

  Her sister, a younger version of their mother, tilted her head. “I don’t understand. I know Mr. Steele liked you a lot. I could see it when he looked at you.”

  Surprisingly Jenny’s comment eased the band of pressure around her chest. “Thank you for saying that. But liking isn’t the same as loving. I love him and that’s not what he wants from me.” She paused and stared into the mug, as if the answers to her questions awaited at the bottom among the few floating tea leaves. “But it’s more than that. I have expectations that he doesn’t think he can fulfill.”

  “Like what?”

  Cynthia shrugged. “Jonathan didn’t have the same kind of home that we did.”

  “Yeah, his was bigger.”

  Cynthia actually smiled. The tugging of her mouth into a grin felt awkward, but also good. “Agreed, but I don’t mean that. His parents weren’t like ours. His mother ran off when he was only five and his father ignored him. He was alone in that big house with no one to love him. Because of that he’s afraid to believe that I love him.”

  “He’ll change his mind,” her sister said with the confidence of youth. “Now that you’re gone, he’ll miss you a lot and come after you.”

  “I would like that very much, but I have my doubts.” She looked at her sister. “Either way, I have a business and a life.” She paused. “Jenny, it’s time for me to move out. Mom is doing much better and I need to be on my own.”

  Jenny clutched the mug she held and pressed her lips tightly together. Tears filled her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “Mom already told me. She said that you’d given up too much already by living with us and that you needed a chance to live by yourself.” She sniffed. “But I can still come visit, can’t I?”

  “Absolutely. I kinda hoped you’d spend the night with me once in a while. So we can have some girl time together.”

  Jenny smiled bravely. “I’d like that. I just wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “I know.” But Cynthia knew that being on her own would force her to get on with her life. Her hope was that then she would find things to distract her from thoughts of Jonathan. She needed to get on with the business of healing or she would spend the rest of her life wishing for something that was never going to happen.

  “Mr. Jonathan, it’s the baby,” Lucinda said, her voice agitated.

  Jonathan clutched the receiver as panic filled him. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. The little one won’t eat. Mrs. Miller, she tried everything, but he only looks at her and turns his head. I don’t think he’s sick. I think he misses Miss Cynthia. I tried to give him a bottle, but he won’t take it for me, either. He has before, but not now. Mr. Jonathan, you have to come home right away. If he won’t eat for you, then we have to take him to the doctor.”

  It was the middle of the workday and he had a full calendar. His meetings ran until eight-thirty that evening. “I’ll be right there,” he said and hung up. Then he buzzed his secretary and informed her that he needed to reschedule everything.

  He arrived home less than twenty minutes after Lucinda’s call and jogged into the house. His housekeeper stood at the bottom of the stairs, wringing her hands in her apron.

  “Oh, Mr. Jonathan, it’s so sad. He just looks at me with those big eyes. I think there have been too many changes in his life. It’s not good for the baby.” Her expression turned accusing. “You should have kept Miss Cynthia longer.”

  “I don’t doubt you’re right,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time.

  He entered the baby’s room and found Mrs. Miller pacing with Colton in her arms. She turned and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I don’t usually have a problem getting babies to eat for me, but this little lad is stubborn.”

  “It runs in the family,” Jonathan said. “You don’t think he’s ill?”

  “No. Just not himself. Although if he won’t eat for you, then I would recommend we get him to the pediatrician right away.”

  Jonathan didn’t tell the concerned nanny that he’d never once fed Colton and did not have a clue as to how to do it. But the baby had smiled at him when he entered the room and now held out his arms.

  Jonathan walked over to Mrs. Miller and carefully took Colton from his arms. The infant cooed, then relaxed.

  “Here.” The nanny handed him a bottle. “See if he’ll take it.”

  But there wasn’t a doubt. Colton saw the incoming meal and squealed. He latched onto the nipple firmly and sucked with all his baby might.

  “He was hungry,” Mrs. Miller said. “I’m not surprised. He hasn’t eaten since early last evening.” She walked toward the hall. “I’ll just leave you two to finish things up.” And then she was gone.

  Jonathan walked over to the rocker in the corner and carefully sat down. He’d held Colton enough not to feel completely awkward about having the baby in his arms. As for the feeding part, he guessed Colton would drink until he was full. He had a vague thought that after the eating there was a burping ritual, but Mrs. Miller could explain that to him. For now it was enough to watch his nephew suck happily.

  “You miss her,” Jonathan murmured. “Hell, I miss her, too, but at least
I have sense enough to eat.”

  Blue eyes regarded him thoughtfully.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Jonathan said. “If you won’t take a bottle from Mrs. Miller, what’s going to happen with the issue of solid food? Cynthia said you had to start that pretty soon. I don’t know the first thing about babies, you know. Plus, I have a company to run. I can’t spend all day with you. So we have a really big problem.”

  The sucking had grown less frantic. He looked down and saw that Colton had closed one baby fist around the lapel of his jacket and was holding on tight.

  Something warm flared to life inside his chest. Something that grew and spread until the heat filled him with an inner peace. At the same time, he felt a fierce protectiveness toward this small life. Colton had no one in the world but him. He, too, was alone. So maybe together they had a chance to matter to each other. After all, they were family.

  “I don’t know the first thing about being a father,” Jonathan warned him. “But then I’m guessing your standards aren’t too high. Maybe we can figure it out together.”

  He looked at David’s only son. A child of the brother who had stolen from him and tried to have him killed. It was time to put all that behind him, he realized. If he’d really hated his brother, he would have had David arrested months ago, instead of giving him time to change his mind and even, at the last minute, a chance to put the money back. As much as they hadn’t known what to do with the relationship, he and David had been family as well.

  Then, for the first time, he bent down and kissed Colton’s forehead. Despite the bottle in his mouth, the baby smiled. Jonathan knew that he was a goner and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Worse, he found he didn’t want to do anything.

  If this was love, it actually wasn’t so bad.

  A pounding on the front door interrupted Jonathan’s concentration. It was late in the afternoon. Under normal circumstances he would have been at the office, but since Colton had become stubborn about eating only for him, he’d started working out of the house.

  He had a brief, unrealistic thought that it was Cynthia, then told himself to stop being a fool. He returned his attention to his computer, only to be interrupted by Lucinda.

  She stuck her head inside the study. “You have visitors.” She hesitated. “It’s Jenny and the boys, but Miss Cynthia isn’t with them.”

  Her faintly accusing gaze told him that she still hadn’t forgiven him for allowing Cynthia to leave. Lucinda didn’t know the details of their argument, but she didn’t much care. Whatever happened had to have been his fault and in her mind, it was up to him to fix it.

  He rose and went to greet the children. Until he actually saw them standing in the center of the foyer, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been hoping that Lucinda was wrong—that the woman who had haunted his dreams really had accompanied them. But the three kids stood in a tight group, balanced on their in-line skates, not smiling, barely glancing up when he walked over and greeted them.

  “How’s it going?” he asked brightly. “Jenny, you look great. Brad, Brett, how’s school?”

  Brad, the usually silent twin, slid off his backpack and opened it. “Here,” he said, dumping a video game player onto the marble floor. Brett did the same, upending a dozen games. The plastic cases skidded across the slick floor. Both boys straightened.

  “We don’t want the game,” Brad said fiercely, his blue eyes bright with unshed tears. “That’s what we came to tell you.”

  “Yeah. You were mean to our sister. You made Cynthia cry.” Brett’s voice was defiant, as if he knew he wasn’t allowed to talk to adults like that but refused to care this time.

  Jenny put her arms around both boys. “We don’t know what happened, Mr. Steele, but Cynthia is very hurt right now. The three of us decided it would be best to return the game.” Looking so much like her beautiful older sister, she raised her chin. “We won’t be seeing you again.”

  He hadn’t thought that three children could have the power to wound him so deeply, but as he felt the blows their words delivered, he knew they could cut him down to his soul. He hadn’t realized their good opinion mattered, but it did, and now it was lost.

  What was he supposed to say? How could he explain something that didn’t quite make sense to him? “I’m sorry,” he said, haltingly. “I never wanted to—”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  Everyone turned toward the open front door. Cynthia stood there. She ignored Jonathan in favor of her siblings. “I can’t believe you three did this. It’s very rude and it’s wrong. I want you to go home now, but don’t think it’s over. We’ll be talking later.”

  The children gave him one last condemning look before skating out of the house. When they were gone, Cynthia closed the door behind them and glanced at him.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, her voice carefully light. “I didn’t realize what they had planned until it was too late to stop them. When I figured it out, I drove right over. I’d hoped I could intercept them, but kids on in-line skates can really move.”

  He couldn’t breathe. The sight of her should have been like water to a man dying in the desert, but he couldn’t believe she was really here. All the pain, the emptiness and loneliness crashed in on him. He hadn’t known what she’d meant to him until he’d lost her and now she was back…but not for long. Not forever.

  But he didn’t want forever. He wanted—

  Except Jonathan Steele, maker of billions of dollars, didn’t know what he wanted. Or what was important. Or what it would take to figure out how to keep Cynthia when he knew that what she needed was love and he didn’t think he knew how.

  “They don’t understand,” she was saying. “They’re not used to seeing me upset, which I confess I have been. It hurt them and they lashed out. They’re too young to understand that you’re the wronged party, not me. You never asked me to fall in love with you or hinted that our relationship would be anything but professional.” She offered a sad smile. “I’m the one who crossed the line, not you.”

  She was dressed in her usual uniform of jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was back in a ponytail, her face free of makeup. She wasn’t elegant or sophisticated, but she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “I understand how that could have happened,” he said. “You didn’t have much experience in my world.”

  This time her smile was genuine. “You’re right about that. And I’ll admit that I did have dreams about a future. Marriage, more children.” She shrugged. “Just call me Cinderella. Isn’t that what you said when we met?”

  He didn’t remember, but then he couldn’t think. Not about anything but what she said. Marriage, more children. Is that what she wanted? With him? Would she really trust him that much? Enough to let him marry her and father her children?

  But he wasn’t good enough. He didn’t know how. Couldn’t she see the dark places inside of him? He’d been the one to say that families were an invention of the devil. While he no longer believed that, she couldn’t know about his change.

  “How is Colton?” she asked.

  He focused on her question and ignored everything else. “He hasn’t been doing well. That’s why I’m home. I’ve spoken with the pediatrician and she says it’s all the changes in his life.”

  Cynthia’s expression tightened as color fled her face. “What’s wrong? Is he ill?”

  “No. He hasn’t taken to Mrs. Miller. I have to feed him, which I don’t mind, but he’s a little restless with her. The doctor says it’s the lack of stability in his situation.”

  Cynthia took a step toward him. “I don’t mind coming back. I promise I won’t say or do anything inappropriate. But if it would be easier until you’ve chosen a permanent nanny, I’m happy to fill in.”

  He didn’t know how to answer that. He knew that he’d hurt her terribly and yet she was willing to be around him for the sake of the baby. If she were any other woman, he would suspect her of trying to use the si
tuation to her advantage, but that wasn’t Cynthia’s style. He might be a jerk, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d learned his lesson about her.

  “Why don’t you come see him now,” he said, motioning to the stairs.

  She gave him a grateful smile, then hurried toward the second floor.

  Ten minutes later she sat in the rocking chair in the baby’s bedroom. Colton had screamed with delight when he saw her and was just beginning to stop wiggling with pleasure as she held him.

  Jonathan stood in the doorway, watching the two of them together. He saw the light in Cynthia’s eyes—the same light she had when she looked at Jenny or the boys. The same light Betsy had when she looked at her children. The glow came from a mother’s love. At one time the realization would have terrified him, but now he knew it wouldn’t go out—that Cynthia’s feelings would last for the rest of her life.

  He dropped his gaze to Colton. The baby was as innocent of his father’s crimes as Jonathan had been of his mother’s. He saw that now. His father had been wrong to blame him, just as he, Jonathan, would be wrong to blame Colton. Not that he planned to do any such thing.

  “I love him,” he said quietly.

  Cynthia looked up and smiled. “I hoped you would. Loving a child is the most pure act we humans are capable of. Especially loving a child who isn’t our own. It’s a selfless giving that returns the most amazing reward. For being loved by that child is the greatest gift of all.”

  He looked at her and knew that he’d been a fool to ever let her go. She was the best part of his world. She who gave from the very depths of her being, had offered him her heart and he’d turned it down. Because he’d been afraid and unworthy. He might never be worthy, but he could stop being a coward.