“Perfect,” she muttered.
As she ate her sandwich, she mulled over her recent change in circumstances. Derek had always been annoying, but slightly amusing at the same time. Now she wasn’t so sure; today’s behavior felt a little bit stalker-ish, in her opinion. She was going to have to be extra careful. She debated speaking with Charming about it — he was her boss, and this was work related after all — but Muse’s advice stopped her. She was supposed to be avoiding her “Prince” for the entire week, and Eleanor didn’t think that a premeditated meeting would fall into Muse’s “Must-Avoid-At-All-Costs-Plan.”
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was just making excuses to see Charming. The first person she usually went to when she had a work related problem was Jake. In fact, the first person she went to when she had any problem was Jake. This sudden urge to confide in Charming was a heavy indication that she liked him more than a little bit.
Crap.
Feeling suddenly gloomy, Eleanor wrapped up the remaining sandwich and stuffed it into her bag. Glancing at her watch, she realized that she still had half an hour to kill before she was due back. She looked around her, trying to find something to distract herself for the next thirty minutes, and spotted a bag on the floor. Curious, she balanced her mobile on the stool she had been sitting on, and investigated.
Kneeling down, Eleanor opened the bag and emptied its contents. She giggled as she came across the sets of lingerie that she had modeled the previous week; Jake must have forgotten about them. The red lacy bra had a tear in it, so Eleanor quickly shoved it back into the bag, not wanting to damage it any further. The blue set, however, was still in pristine condition. Chuckling to herself, she quickly decided to strip off and change into the frothy bits of lace once again. As soon as she was done, she angled her mobile so that the light would shine on the mirror. It was still dark, but there was enough light for Eleanor to see the result.
Of course, Eleanor didn’t have full make-up on, and her hair was doing its usual impression of dark fuzz, but she still looked fairly good. She turned a few times, looking at herself from as many angles as possible, giggling the entire time. She’d felt really uncomfortable when she had been sitting in front of a camera, but now that she was alone, she felt much better. The underwear was very revealing, and it made her feel a little bit naughty. She pouted playfully at an imaginary camera, stifling her giggles as she did so. She posed, winked, lifted her hair above her head, and tried her best to look sultry. All in all, she was having a marvelous time.
And then the lights came on, causing her to jump so hard that she bumped into the mirror, knocking it over and sending shards of glass everywhere. She froze.
Crap! Crap, crap, bloody crap!
“Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Jameson, I believe we’ve stumbled upon one of our model’s rehearsals. If you go with my assistant, she will get you some refreshments. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
From the mumble of voices that followed, Eleanor assumed that Mr. Jameson did as he was asked. She heard the door close, followed by a series of hurried footsteps.
“Miss Gibson! Eleanor!”
“Er, hi,” she squeaked.
Charming came to a halt a few feet in front of her, and Eleanor had never felt more embarrassed in her entire life. She was practically naked, and she was surrounded by pieces of shattered glass. Why was it that she always looked like such an idiot whenever this guy was around?
“Why did I know that it had to be you?” said Charming. “You’re bleeding.”
“Bleeding stupid,” she muttered.
“No, really. You’ve cut yourself. Right by your, um, right by there.”
Charming gestured vaguely towards Eleanor’s chest and cleared his throat. Eleanor, if it was possible, went several shades redder and looked at herself.
“Bloody hell!” she shrieked.
“I think we’d better get you to the hospital. That might need stitches.”
Eleanor groaned. She looked around frantically for her clothes, and moved to get them.
“Oww!” she cried, and started hopping on the spot.
Charming held his arms out and stopped her.
“There’s glass everywhere; stay where you are.”
Charming took his jacket off and used it to brush away some of the debris, then he passed Eleanor her clothes and waited for her to put them on. As soon as she was decently covered, he helped her out of the studio and ushered her towards the elevator.
“Damn, wait here a moment, I’ll be right back,” he said, depositing her against the wall.
He was as good as his word and returned after a couple of minutes. By now, Eleanor was shaking a little. Her left boob was aching from the cut it had sustained, and her right foot was throbbing. She was also still suffering from mortification. She couldn’t even look at Charming, and did her best to avoid his gaze all the way to the hospital.
Typically, it was the same doctor who attended Eleanor’s cuts. At this point, Eleanor didn’t even try to explain herself when the doctor raised a querying brow at her. She allowed him to stitch up her foot without uttering a murmur, and didn’t even comment when he told her how lucky she was not to need stitches on her breast. He cleaned the cut and put a dressing on it, and told her to keep it dry for a few days and keep an eye out for signs of infection. Throughout all this, Charming was present, adding to Eleanor’s discomfort.
“Should she rest at all? Will she need time off work?” asked Charming, as the doctor put the final piece of surgical tape on the dressing.
“It all depends on the type of work that she does,” said the doctor, stifling a grin. “As long as she doesn’t do anything that might, um, aggravate the injury, she should be able to work as normal. She’ll need to keep off that foot for twenty-four hours, though, or she’ll loosen those stitches.”
“Right. Thank you, doctor; we’ll bear that in mind.”
We?
Charming helped Eleanor to her feet and put her jacket around her shoulders. Nodding at the doctor briskly, he supported Eleanor as she limped out of the cubicle.
“Where do you live?”
“Um, Jewel Street. It’s not far, I can get a taxi. You need to go back to work.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said irritably. “I have the car with me. It’ll be quicker to take you home myself.”
“Oh, okay then. Thanks,” she replied in a small voice. “I’ll give you directions.”
“No need, I’ll use the sat nav.”
Conversation after that was non-existent. Eleanor couldn’t work out Charming’s mood at all. He had been nothing but helpful for the last hour or so, but she couldn’t help feeling that he was annoyed at her. He certainly looked like he was holding his temper in at the moment, judging by the hard expression he was wearing.
“I’m sorry about all this,” she said carefully. “Was that man, Mr. Jameson, a very important client?”
“Jameson’s an investor. He’s provisionally earmarked Cardiff Mode for an injection of rather a large amount of cash. Today was the day when we found out whether we’d get it or not.”
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry! Do you think I’ve ruined everything?”
“Jameson’s a good man; he’ll understand that accidents can happen. He doesn’t base his decisions on first impressions. I’m confident that he will still invest.”
“Oh,” said Eleanor.
“You sound surprised,” remarked Charming, as he turned into Jewel Street. “What number?”
“Oh, twenty-four. And I am surprised. You look like you want to strangle someone.”
“I do,” he muttered darkly, looking at her briefly.
Charming parked the car smoothly and got out, walking around the vehicle to open Eleanor’s door. He helped her out of the car and waited wh
ile she dug around her handbag for her keys.
“I’ll be fine from here, you go back and finish your meeting with your investor,” said Eleanor hurriedly, not liking the glint she could see in Charming’s eye.
“I’ll just see that you’re settled first, and then I’ll leave you in peace.”
Eleanor knew for a fact that she would never settle with Charming in her house, so she offered a shaky thanks and told herself to put a brave face on things until he left. He soon had her propped amongst several cushions on her sofa, and after finding the kitchen, made her a pot of tea and a plate full of sandwiches.
“I really need to get back to work, but I’ll be here later on today to check on you.”
“There’s really no need,” protested Eleanor.
“No, I don’t trust you,” he replied darkly. “Left to your own devices, you’ll probably end up back in the hospital by this evening.”
“I’m honestly not usually this clumsy, I promise,” said Eleanor earnestly. Charming raised an eyebrow. “Well,” she added hastily. “I know I’ve been in a few scrapes in the last couple of weeks, but I think it’s just a phase. Normally I’m not accident-prone at all.”
“A phase?” said Charming, rubbing his chin. “That’s all the more reason to come back and check on you. This phase obviously hasn’t run its course yet, so it’s in your best interests to have someone looking out for you.”
“It is?”
“Yes, definitely. I’ll be back around six. Don’t move from that spot. In fact, you’d better give me your keys so that I can let myself back in.”
“But what if I need to have a, well, use the toilet?”
“Hold it in.”
“Charming.”
“What?”
“Oh, I meant charming as in charming, not your name,” said Eleanor, sounding like a complete loon.
“Right. Well, see you later.”
And with that, he left. Just like that. Taking her keys with him, too, the dratted man. Eleanor closed her eyes and groaned.
“Ella!”
Crap.
“Er, hi, Muse. I’ve had a little, er, accident, so I’ve come home early, as you can probably see.”
Muse strolled in to the room and shrieked loudly at the sight that greeted her.
“Your foot! What have you done this time?”
Eleanor quickly explained what happened, and cringed at the look of censure on her cat’s face. Honestly, she was getting quite good at reading cats’ expressions these days; she really should consider writing a book about it or something.
“And can you tell me how exactly you’re going to continue with your walking lessons this week?” asked Muse irritably. “And what about your dress? You can’t wear it while you’ve got a dirty big bandage strapped to your chest.”
“The bandage will be off in a day or two,” said Eleanor soothingly.
“And the foot?”
“Well, that might take a little longer to heal,” she said truthfully.
Muse glared at her.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine by Friday. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? Don’t worry? Is that all you can say?”
“There’s not an awful lot I can add to it.”
“Don’t be so flippant! I honestly don’t understand you, sometimes. How in the world do you get yourself into these messes?”
“Hey! It’s not like it’s intentional!”
“Shut up, I’m lecturing you!”
Eleanor scowled and folded her arms across her chest, prompting a fresh ow from her lips. Muse gave her a nasty look and continued to rant.
“I spend all my time plotting and planning your perfect Happy Ever After, and all you can do is run around flashing your body and getting into scrapes! Honestly, why do I bother? And another thing, what did I tell you about avoiding your Prince? Didn’t I say that you were to make sure he didn’t see you all week? Now look what’s happened. He’s coming back to play bloody nursemaid to you!”
“I thought swearing was forbidden,” muttered Eleanor.
“It is! See? See what you’ve done to me? You’ve got me cursing like a common sailor!”
“Look,” said Eleanor, sensing a pause in Muse’s tirade. “All is not lost, I promise. Okay, so I haven’t helped matters today, but it’s too late to worry about that now. Charming will be back later, so all we need to do is work out a Plan B, yes?”
“A Plan B?” sniffed Muse doubtfully.
“Yes, a Plan B,” repeated Eleanor, thankful that Muse wasn’t shouting any more. “I can’t avoid him now; it’s too late for that. But maybe you could give me a few pointers on how to behave when he comes back later. You know, tips and stuff to make me look like a lady instead of a walking accident.”
“Maybe,” said Muse slowly, though she was clearly still ruffled. “We definitely need to do something, or this whole mission is doomed.”
“Cheerful puss, aren’t you?” remarked Eleanor under her breath.
• • •
A few hours later, Eleanor was studying the notepad in her hand doubtfully. Muse had given her a list of things to remember while she was in contact with Charming, with most of them bordering on impossible as far as Eleanor was concerned. She eyed the list closely, but no matter how much she wanted to do well, she knew that she was probably going to forget everything and revert to her usual un-lady-like self.
Things To Remember When Trying to Charm A Prince.
DO remember to sit up straight in your chair. Posture is everything!
DO cross your legs at the ankles. NEVER at the knee! This is important, because crossing at the knee is vulgar.
DO sip at your drink, and nibble daintily at any food. Slurping and guzzling is simply not done when you are a lady.
DO remember to speak in a clear voice. Muttering to yourself is to be avoided at ALL COSTS.
NO SWEARING! Absolutely no cursing, growling, or any other type of noise is to escape your lips. Ladies are POLITE at all times!
NO fidgeting. Playing with the button on your blouse might help to settle your nerves, but could prove to be disastrous when you accidentally show a little more than what you bargained for.
NO other un-lady-like noises. If you feel the need to pass wind, discreetly ask to be excused and make your way to another room.
Crikey, she was doomed.
Chapter Eight
With a few last-minute instructions from Muse running through her head, Eleanor greeted Charming with a smile when he arrived a little after six o’clock. He said a quick hello, and disappeared into the kitchen. Eleanor noted the bags he was carrying and could smell something very appetizing wafting from them.
“I hope you like Chinese,” he called over his shoulder.
“Love it,” said Eleanor warmly. Polite, polite, polite. You can do it, Eleanor.
A few minutes later, Charming came back with two glasses of wine, though Eleanor noted that her glass was only half full.
“Best to be careful,” advised Charming. “You shouldn’t mix alcohol with painkillers.”
Eleanor smiled, but inwardly winced. She usually didn’t bother to worry about things like that, and was normally to be found swallowing her medicine tablets with a good swig of wine. Probably best if she kept that to herself, she thought to herself.
When Charming entered the room next, he was balancing a tray in each hand. Eleanor’s mouth watered and she made to move her legs. She usually liked to put her feet up when she was eating, being the slob that she was. She had lifted her legs half way when she remembered the list. She covered her mistake by saying that she needed the bathroom.
“I won’t be a tick,” she said uncomfortably.
“Fine, I’ll wait for you before I start. Do you need any help?�
�
“No! I mean, er, no thanks. I’m sure I can manage.”
“Okay,” he said lightly. “Just shout out if you get stuck.”
Eleanor made her escape and limped up the stairs to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it heavily. She took a few calming breaths and realized that she really did need to use the bathroom after all. When she was done, she washed her hands and looked at her reflection in the bathroom cabinet.
“Sit up straight, no slurping, don’t rush your food, be polite, don’t cross your legs, and no swearing,” she chanted softly.
She dried her hands and smoothed her hair a little, then decided that she really couldn’t hide any longer. Taking one last stern look at herself in the mirror, she squared her shoulders and hobbled back to the living room.
“Better?” asked Charming.
“Much,” she replied, as she sat down again, being careful to sit up straight and cross her ankles. She took the offered tray and picked up a fork.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” said Eleanor, spearing a forkful of aromatic chowmein.
“I was planning on Chinese take-out tonight anyway,” he shrugged. “I thought I might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
“You look a lot more cheerful than you did earlier on.”
“I was angry at you earlier,” he pointed out. “I’m still rather annoyed at you, to be truthful, but I’ve simmered down now.”
“I thought the investor thing was all right?” said Eleanor in confusion.
“Oh, he was fine. I wasn’t worried about that at all.”
“So why were you angry at me?”
“Because you’re a fool, that’s why.”
Eleanor bit back a retort, shoveling food into her mouth to stop her from speaking. Crap, that’s another rule broken.
“Why am I a fool?” she asked, trying to salvage the situation.
If the Shoe Fits Page 10