The Cinderella Arrangement

by Vanessa Waltz

  “My father hired the best defense lawyers money could buy and paid off a ton of news outlets so that his name—our name, would never get dragged through the mud. Dan got court-ordered rehab and didn't spend a day in prison. We settled with the families, but I never got past it. I—I couldn’t save them.”

  Will finished speaking, his deadened voice echoing in my head.

  I felt ill from all the graphic descriptions of the bodies he and his drunken friend had mangled. It was much worse than I thought. I imagined what the scene must have looked like—limbs everywhere, chunks of flesh and blood painting the concrete, the girl trapped beneath the car.

  William survived unscathed. It wasn’t fair. His face was twisted and red. His eyes burned holes in my head.

  “You can loathe me if you want. I’ll understand. You can’t hate me more than I hate myself.”

  I was confused, stunned, and sickened by the whole thing. I felt a flash of anger for how irresponsible they were—like Gatsby and Daisy, rich, reckless people destroying lives and retreating into their wealth without a backward glance.

  But Will isn’t like that.

  “I think the choices you made that night were awful. It was a terrible, terrible thing, but I don’t hate you. I feel sorry for the families. And you.”

  He made no move to defend himself. If I stabbed him in the chest, he wouldn’t have stopped me.

  “You’re not a bad person.”

  “I am.”

  “You weren’t the one driving,” I whispered.

  “It was my car,” he said in a sharp voice. “It was my responsibility. If I hadn’t been such a stupid, selfish moron, those people would still be alive.”

  “What about the ones at the party who watched two drunk kids leave and drive away? They’re responsible, too. It’s not all on you.”

  The darkness in Will’s face lightened.

  “It all makes sense now,” I sighed. “You won’t drink a drop of alcohol because you’re terrified that something bad might happen.”

  “I could never apologize to them.”

  He was like a hollow shell—he always looked so empty when he talked about the accident. The light behind his eyes died.

  “Then visit the families. Apologize. Allow yourself to feel better.”

  “They don’t want to see me.”

  “You have to try.”

  Visiting them wouldn’t be easy. He would have to be prepared for the hatred that would be flung in his face.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I sat behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle. It took a lot out of him to tell me what happened that night, and I would not forget that. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “I’ll understand if you want to bolt. This is an out.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He covered my hands with his and sighed in relief. “I have to leave this place,” he blurted. “I need to see my dad in Chicago. Will you come with me?”

  My face burned. I wasn’t sure how I felt about meeting Will’s dad. “What about the campaign?”

  “Luke will be upset, but I’m only going to Chicago to help him.” He disengaged from my arms and dressed himself. “I think I need to do something.”

  I picked at a spot in the bed sheets with my nail and glanced at him, only to look away when he met my eyes.

  “Spit it out.”

  “Why—why do you want me to go with you?”

  He thought about it for a moment and gave me a weak smile. “I paid you for three weeks work and we’ve only had sex once.”

  “You’re lucky that I have a sense of humor,” I groaned in frustration. “Be serious for once.”

  “I like having you around.”

  I stood up and took his body in my arms, nestling my head under his chin. His warmth was so comforting; I leaned into him and felt my lungs expanding, like a balloon inflating inside my chest.

  I like being with you, too.

  “What will you tell your dad about me? Christ, I'm working for you.”

  “Technically, you’re not working directly under me. Natalie, what are you really trying to ask me?”

  My face burned. The lilt in his voice suggested that he already knew what I wanted, but he would force it out of me anyways. I wasn’t interested in a fling.

  "Where the hell is this headed?"

  "I'm not sure, but I'm enjoying the ride."

  "But you're my boss! Isn't this a--a conflict of interest?"

  His hands tightened around my arms. "If I'm your boss, then you have to do what I say."

  "Will!"

  “I want to be with you. That's all I got for now."

  I'm fine with that.

  I stood on my toes and kissed his mouth, feeling giddy when he responded, his arms circling my waist and tightening.

  “Okay,” he said when we broke apart. “Let’s get ready. I need to charter a flight out of here.”

  I was already packed, so I walked to the bright lobby and checked my email. It was the crack of dawn. I ascended the stairs to the terrace with a plate of lemon cakes and coffee and sighed at the magnificent sunrise. The dark sky was giving way to the stretch of orange on the horizon. Puffy, pink clouds hung in the lightening blue. The colors were coming to life; the sun illuminated the brightly painted homes and the swirls of turquoise in the ocean. Such beauty just wasn’t possible. I took several pictures and attempted to sketch it, but stopped myself. It was more important to watch it. I felt an incredible sadness at the realization I would soon leave this place. It was like going to paradise and being expected to return home to a world of concrete and somehow be happy about that.

  I wiped away the tears on my face and checked my email. There were several from Jessica and a couple from Ben. I drew a sharp, painful breath and clicked on his message.

  Natalie,

  I was really upset to find out you were seeing someone else on a tabloid website and I apologize if I came off angry. I know that I did the same thing to you after we broke up, but I was just trying to move on. I really don’t think it’s fair you’re doing this. We should have a discussion before you make a rash decision. We’ve been together for six years. Why can’t I have any say in what happens to our relationship? I am really depressed without you and I’ve been in therapy these past few weeks. I can’t move on. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of you being with another man. Please call me when you get the chance.

  Love,

  Ben

  My heart hammered behind my chest. I didn’t like the guilty feelings swirling inside me.

  “It’s a load of crap.”

  I slammed down the cup of coffee and hissed as it spilled over the sides. Will stood close, as silent as a shadow, reading the email over my shoulder.

  “Do you mind?”

  He ignored me. “Click on the next one.”

  Will looked at me, refusing to move from his spot. Whatever, fine. I clicked it. The tone of this one was a lot angrier.

  Natalie, what the fuck?

  I feel like absolute shit and you probably have no idea. It really hurts you would ignore me after everything we’ve been through. I keep seeing photos of you with that asshole. I don’t understand why you like him. He sounds like a complete jerk.

  Can you please tell me what I could have done differently? I tried to be a good boyfriend to you and I was always there when you needed me. I really don’t deserve to be treated this way. When you met me in the city, you made me believe that there was still hope for us. Now, I feel like you’re rubbing this in my face to hurt me. Maybe you’re only with this guy to piss me off. I really don’t appreciate being ignored and I expect a response from you.

  -Ben

  “He expects a response? What are you, his property?” He let out a bellyful of laughter. “This guy is such an entitled ass. Coming from me that says a lot.”

  The email made me cold all over.

  “He's trying to manipulate you. You’re out in the world
, living your life, and he thinks that it’s all about him. You must be doing this to hurt him, not because you’ve moved on. He’s a narcissist, and he wants you to feel guilty.”

  I rubbed my arm. “I need to tell him it’s over. That we’re done.”

  “You are over. You broke up almost a year ago. Don’t contact him; he’ll only send you more messages. If you ignore them, he’ll stop caring about it.”

  I feel like absolute shit and you probably have no idea.

  I could hear the despair in that line of text and couldn’t stand I was making him feel bad about himself. We may have broken up, but I still cared about him.

  He sank down to my level and held my arms. “Baby, listen. His problems are no longer yours. You care too much about what people think of you. He will be pissed for a while. So what?”

  “Let's just change the subject.”

  “I got a flight out of Genoa for this evening.”

  I turned my face back toward the ocean and felt a tug on my heart. “Do we have to leave?”

  He stroked me. “Yeah, but Cinque Terre will always be here. You can come back.”

  It was another exhausting night of travel for all three of us. When Will’s town car arrived to pick us up from O’Hare, I collapsed into the car and almost fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt a heavy, warm weight on my lap and realized that the cat had crawled onto my lap.

  “We’re here.”

  The car pulled into a driveway and stopped in front of a mansion that rivaled Luke’s in San Francisco. The red brick home was surrounded by color; plants and bushes of all types thrived around the house. The road circled a round pool where a large, golden fountain played. When the door opened, Tom dashed from the car to lie on the steps on the house, flailing his body in apparent ecstasy.

  The light brown wooden doors opened and a woman in her fifties emerged, dressed in white capris and a sky-blue blouse. She beamed when William swept out of the car.

  Here we go, I told myself, watching his mother hurry down the steps to greet her son.

  “My baby!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said without the same enthusiasm. Will hugged her, his face going pink.

  His mother tossed back her dyed blonde hair and looked over his shoulder at me, a question forming on her lips. Will glanced at me. “Mom, this is Natalie.”

  I slid out of the car and took her proffered hand, “Nice to meet you.”

  Her dark eyes scanned mine as if she could detect any misgivings stirring inside them and I was reminded of William. His eyes had the same shape and color, and he inherited her unnerving stare. Her lips lifted into a slight smile to soften the message that was: Hurt my son in any way and I will destroy you.

  “It’s lovely to meet you. You two must be starving. Come in, I’ll fix something.”

  I cast a terrified glance at William, who smiled encouragingly and wrapped his arm around my waist as his mother led the way. “Relax, my mom is nice.”

  The door opened to a magnificent foyer laid with cream-colored marble. Two sweeping wooden staircases with black railings led upstairs on either side of the circular room. The archways had beautiful, intricate crown molding. Ahead was the living room and to the left was a modern kitchen with granite counters. Inwardly, I laughed at the idea of his mother visiting my apartment.

  “This is where you grew up?”

  “Yeap. It’s been remodeled several times over the years.”

  “Wow.”

  I could imagine him and his brothers running around as children, knocking over expensive vases and banging on the white grand piano I saw in the sitting room. Even as an adult, Will had so much energy. It must have driven his parents crazy.

  “You’re looking pale, William. Have you eaten anything today?”

  Mrs. Pardini fussed over her son as he sat down at the kitchen table, smoothing his lapels and brushing his hair. His face bloomed, and I sniggered at him behind his mother’s back.

  “Mom, stop it.”

  “When was the last time you got a haircut?”

  “I have no idea.”

  She bustled toward the kitchen counter and picked up her phone. “I’ll make a hair appointment for you.”

  I bit my knuckles hard to keep from crying out with laughter. William was mortified. “Mom, sit down,” he snapped.

  She closed her phone and her eyes narrowed. “There’s no need to take that tone with me.”

  “Yes, there is,” he said, suddenly looking serious. “What’s this I hear about Dad selling Luke’s shares?”

  My face burned as his mother scowled at him, casting me an irritated glance. “Will, you know we don’t talk about this in front of—”

  “I don’t care. You can say it in front of Natalie. She already knows everything anyway.”

  I grimaced at Will’s mother, who was staring at me like I had suddenly grown two heads.

  “You must talk to your father about it,” she said in a final tone. “No, William. Your dad doesn’t want me talking about it to anyone. Not even you.”

  “Oh, come on!” He pounded his fist on the table.

  “Tell me how you met your new girlfriend.” She smiled.

  Will looked pissed at her deflection. “We’re dating, Mom. And we met at a party.”

  Under the kitchen table, my fingernails ground into my palms. It was so awkward. I did not want to be there. I could see her sizing me up, appraising my wardrobe and making searing judgments in her head. She pressed her lips into a firm line.

  “I guess I’ll never get grandchildren from my youngest.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “Jesus!” Will got up from the table.

  And he stormed from the kitchen, leaving me there alone. His mother turned on the spot with a smirk not unlike her son’s and zeroed in on me. My jaw fell. She needled him on purpose to get him out of the room.

  Will, you bastard! Don’t leave me here alone!

  “Don’t look so scared,” she said in an even voice as she sat down across from me. “You have nothing to hide, do you?”

  “No, no. I’m just not used to all this.”

  “What do your parents do?”

  Ah, so the interrogation begins. “My parents are dentists. I’m a graphic designer.”

  “Oh, where do you work?”

  My face burned. “I’m unemployed, but Will offered me a contract to design logos for Luke’s campaign.”

  I was going from bad to worse. Her lips whitened.

  “And I suppose you thought my son would be a great career booster?”

  “No!” A sickening feeling spread through my stomach when she smiled. “No, I swear to God, he contacted a recruiting agent and set up a meeting without me knowing. I never asked him for anything. He can tell you that himself.”

  “Hmm,” was all she said. “Perhaps my son needs someone like you to keep him grounded. Unassuming. Humble.”

  It sounded like an insult as much as a compliment. “Thanks. I didn’t even want to date him, at first.”

  Why the hell did you say that?

  I cringed as his mother gave me an offended look. “What’s wrong with my son?”

  “Well,” I began, almost laughing out of nerves. “You know, his issues.” My voice drifted into a squeak.

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

  My blood churned. “His panic attacks.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She did not understand what I was talking about. My mouth trembled. He never told his parents. No one knew anything.

  Jesus Christ.

  I was treading on very dangerous ground.

  “I shouldn’t talk about it.”

  “If my son is in trouble, I deserve to know about it.”

  “He’s just having a hard time coping with the accident.”

  I swallowed hard at the venomous look on her face.

  “Natalie, you seem like a nice girl, so I’ll return the favor and tell yo
u this nicely. We never discuss or mention that incident in this house. Ever.”

  A chill froze my lungs. “He had a panic attack while he was driving. We could have died.”

  Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and I stood up from the table to walk away. Jessica had been here with Luke, and she told me that being there was one of the worst experiences in her life. Now I knew why.

  I ran into Will as I turned into the foyer. The dark look on his face told me he heard everything.

  Oh, shit.

  “Come,” he said, gripping my wrist.

  I followed him upstairs as he led me into a guest room with our luggage already inside.

  The grim look on his face made me crumble. “I’m sorry. I was just angry—”

  “Shit, I don’t know whether I should be impressed that you stood up to my mother or pissed that you told her something that was none of her business.”

  “Oh, come on. She’s your mother. You’re a family.”

  “Natalie, not all of us feel that our parents are entitled to every detail of our personal lives.”

  That stung. “Meaning what?”

  “Look, I understand why you did it. Just let me handle this my way, okay? I will tell them.”

  “Fine.” I told him. “Um—I need to call my mom.”

  Will chuckled and laid on the bed. “I’ll be quiet.”

  I inhaled a deep breath to quiet the storm building in my head. It was always nerve wracking to call my parents. I dialed the number and turned my back on Will.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  “Natalie! Finally! We’ve been waiting for your call. How’s Europe?”

  “It was great. I’m in Chicago right now with Will.”

  “Chicago? What for?”

  I continued on without thinking. “He needed to see his parents.”

  “Oh, so they get to meet you before we get to meet your new boyfriend?”

  Shit. “No, Mom. It’s not like that.”

  “What’s their house like? Are they filthy rich? What kind of cars do they have?”

  My dad’s voice suddenly entered the conversation. I pressed the phone against my face, hoping that William couldn’t hear a word.

  “Tom!”