Nobody's Prince Charming

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “You just busted my balls this morning.”

  “Don’t split hairs with me, Wren.”

  “I never have split ends, Sparkles. It would ruin my rep as a stylist.” I pulled into the grocery store parking lot and was glad to see it wasn’t busy. I might like buying groceries, but I hated crowds.

  “You’re just full of it today,” Dare said when he opened his door. He didn’t wait for me to get out before he started walking toward the entrance.

  I caught up to him and wrapped my arm around him. “Nah, I’m pretty empty because I already spilled ‘it’ down your throat this morning.”

  Dare’s steps faltered, but he didn’t stop walking. We bought groceries for the week and argued over who was paying for them at the register. I won. I let Dare decide where he wanted to store them—his place or mine. It didn’t matter to me because I would go where he went, do what he wanted to do. I wasn’t that surprised when he chose his house after having a nice visit with Ralph.

  We put away groceries and started laundry—mundane things that shouldn’t have made me so happy. Once the washer was started, I took Dare up to his room and showed him that I still had something left in my tank after all.

  Grandpa was moved to a nursing home that was halfway between Blissville and Goodville by the end of the week. His mood had fluctuated considerably as they weaned him off the pain meds, but his spirits mostly remained high. As promised, I brought him the box of letters that he and Grandma exchanged while he was in Korea, but I didn’t stop there. To make his new room feel more like home, I brought framed photographs to set on his dresser and television stand. My favorite photo was the one where Grandma held my dad as a newborn baby. The look of love and adoration on her face was so beautiful. Grandpa’s favorite picture was the one someone took the day they eloped. Grandpa had worn his military uniform and Grandma wore a light-colored dress that I assumed was white. It was a black-and-white photo, so I couldn’t be sure. I placed that picture on his bedside table closest to him.

  I also brought his favorite blanket, flannel bathrobe and his comfy slippers. I only brought enough clothes for ten days since I wasn’t sure how big his dresser and closet were. I’d met with the nursing home coordinator and she explained the services that would be provided to him, which included weekly laundry. My favorite thing about the nursing home was the relaxed visiting hours since I worked a lot of evenings. Grandpa was worth getting out of bed early to see, but it was nice to know it wasn’t necessary.

  Wren kept Grandpa company while Mom, Dad, and I toured the facility and met Grandpa’s team of doctors, therapists, and a nutritionist. Since Grandpa didn’t have many dietary restrictions, he was able to eat almost everything they served. I knew the food would probably be blander than he preferred, but I was impressed with the first meal they served to him while we were there.

  All things considered, life was looking up. Grandpa had a good appetite and his spirits were high. Rumors already started to circulate after his first week that he was a card shark, which Wren thought was hilarious. He even encouraged Grandpa’s bad behavior by giving him a fist bump after Grandpa’s favorite nurse, Jake, told us about his questionable behavior during activity time.

  “Your grandpa is a hoot,” Jake told us one afternoon. “I can see that the two of you are a lot alike.” Wren, of course, thought the nurse was flirting with me and staked his claim. Luckily for all of us that just meant his hand on my lower back. I must admit to the thrill that snaked its way up my spine when Wren acted a little caveman-ish. I tried not to encourage it, or exploit it, but I didn’t exactly discourage him either. I sure as fuck curled my toes and shouted a horny hallelujah each time he drove home the point that I belonged to him when we were alone.

  It was hard to say that life returned to normal, because Grandpa wasn’t living with me anymore, but we began a new normal that included Sunday family dinners at the nursing home now. I loved watching Wren interact with my family and was grateful my mom no longer ogled him like she did the first time she laid eyes on him.

  Things were going great at the salon too. Curl Up and Dye was featured as one of the best salons in the state and Josh won businessman of the year from the local rotary club. He was even approached about opening a second location in Cincinnati, but I suspected he would pass up the offer. He was too hands-on with his salon and couldn’t be two places at once. He also had his weekly news segments on Channel Eleven that he filmed every Monday, and of course, his twin toddlers. Maybe he’d begin a Curl Up and Dye franchise, but I suspected that day was way off in the future.

  I was happy for Josh’s success, but it really made me hungry for my own. As much as I truly enjoyed my job at the salon, it didn’t allow me to do what I did best. I had hated working at O’Dell’s, but I loved the opportunity to see my designs become reality. Even the most difficult clients who doubted my sanity ended up loving the finished project. I missed that so much more than I could’ve predicted. I spent a lot of my free time working on various design concepts just to stay connected to my passion.

  “There has to be a design company that would love to hire someone as talented as you,” Wren said one night after dinner.

  “I’d have to drive to Cincinnati each day or move closer,” I told him. “Neither of those options appeal to me. I’d really love to be my own boss someday, but I know I have to start small. Hell, I’d be happy to do something like the garage apartment remodel for someone. That turned out beautifully.”

  “It’s stunning,” Wren said. “Not that I’m there very often. Andy did an excellent job with your design.” I could tell how much he hated saying it, but it was true. “You know, I don’t see why you can’t set up a small business and work from home. Give yourself a name, create a website and a social media presence, and see what happens. Be sure to post before and after pictures of the garage apartment. I bet you know several clients from O’Dell’s that would continue to use you or give you excellent references at the very least.”

  “You really think it’s a good idea?”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Wren corrected. “It might take a long time for it to take off or you might end up doing this full time before you know it. I know you love Josh and everyone at the salon, but that’s not the career you’re meant to have, Sparkles.”

  I gave it some serious thought for the next few weeks but didn’t act on it. Out of the blue, Andy knocked on our door one night after working on the vacant house across the street. I didn’t ask about the interior, but it must’ve been in a real mess when he bought the house since it was taking him so long. Then again, he worked on the house in between paying jobs.

  “Yeah?” Wren asked when he answered the door.

  Andy snorted. “Good to see you too. Is Dare home? I’d like to propose to him. I mean, propose something to him. B-b-business proposal,” Andy stammered. I couldn’t see Wren’s expression from where I sat on the couch, but I could see his body language and understood why Andy sounded so nervous after his blunder.

  I walked to the door and placed my hand on Wren’s tense shoulder. “Let the man in, babe.” Wren took a few begrudging steps to the side and Andy smiled at me in relief. “What’s up?”

  “As I was telling Wren, I have something business related that I’d like to propose to you.”

  “I’m all ears,” I told Andy. “Come in and have a seat.”

  “That’s okay. I won’t take long.”

  “That’s nothing to brag about,” Wren whispered under his breath just loud enough for me to hear. I elbowed him in the ribs, but not hard enough to do any real damage. Who was I kidding? I might as well have punched a mountain. Wren didn’t even grunt to indicate he felt it.

  “I’m almost finished renovating the house across the street and will want to list it for sale soon,” Andy said. “A realtor friend of mine recommended that I stage the house when I list it. Is that something you’re familiar with?”

  Excitement blossomed at the idea of working on even
the simplest of projects. “Sure! You rent furniture, art, rugs, and décor for as many rooms as you want,” I explained. “There are a few stores in Cincinnati that I’ve worked with dozens of times. I’d be more than happy to help you.”

  “I’d pay you, of course. I wouldn’t ask you to work for free.”

  “Let’s go in the kitchen and discuss what you envision for a design and I can start putting a plan together.”

  “Are you sure?” Andy asked, but he wasn’t looking at me. I cleared my throat and pulled Wren and Andy’s attention back to me.

  “I’m positive,” I told him. “Would you like a cup of coffee or something cold to drink?”

  “No, but thank you.”

  I grabbed my laptop off the counter where I had left it and pulled a notebook and pen from a drawer. “I’m going to assume that you want to keep the cost down. Basic furniture, maybe an area rug, but not a lot of décor or artwork. Does that sound right to you?”

  “Yeah,” Andy said. “I want people to get a feel for the home but not have so much crap in there that they can’t imagine their own stuff in the space. I hear that’s important.”

  “Very,” I agreed. “The same is true with the design. If you go too strong in one direction, then people can’t see any other design for that space.”

  “Makes sense.” Andy nodded. “How many rooms do we stage?”

  “That really depends on your budget, but would you like my advice?”

  “Of course,” Andy said, nodding. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Let’s just focus on the key rooms: kitchen, living room, bathroom, and master bedroom. Can I see the place tomorrow and get a feel for the layout so I can start putting a proposal together for you? I don’t charge a consultation fee. Once I know how big the project is, I can put together a fee schedule for you. Does that sound fair?”

  “Very.” Andy nodded his head some more. “Tomorrow night is good for me. What time?”

  “Six-thirty? I’m having dinner with Grandpa since it’s my early night at the salon.”

  “Works fine for me. I’ll see you then.” Andy stood up, shook my hand, and headed for the door. “Later, Wren,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  Wren grunted. Once we were alone, he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “You have your first client.”

  “Not yet, I don’t. It’s never a good idea to get my hopes up until a contract is signed.”

  “Did you have many people reject your designs?” he asked.

  “Reject? No. Take my designs to someone else to do them cheaper? Yes.”

  “That’s a dick move,” Wren said. “At least Andy won’t do that to you.”

  I raised a brow. “Are you friends with Andy now?”

  “No, but I can tell he’s a straight shooter.”

  “Can you now?” I teased.

  “Quit busting my balls and start getting serious about making a business plan. You need a snazzy name to play off your nickname,” Wren said. He rotated his eyes up to the ceiling as he thought it over.

  “Sparkles?” I asked.

  “The other one,” Wren answered.

  “Right There, Baby?”

  “Getting warmer,” Wren told me.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “Dare!” Wren exclaimed.

  “What? Why are you yelling? I’m sitting right here.”

  “Use Dare in the name of the business, or some form of it. Daring Designs or something.”

  “Truth or Dare?” I suggested.

  “No, but we can play that later if you’re lucky.”

  “All jokes aside, I see what you mean about the name. I’ll try to come up with something catchy but not cheesy. I’ll need a website, which I can set up myself, and business cards.”

  “Social media accounts too.”

  “Got it,” I replied.

  I thought about it for the rest of the night but couldn’t decide on a name. So far, I didn’t like any business name that used Dare in the title. I thought it might scare off people with conservative design styles.

  The next night I met Andy at his house across the street without Wren. I took pictures of the room layouts and measured the square footage of the spaces we were going to stage.

  “Andy, I don’t know what it looked like before, but this house is going to be a showstopper when we get through with it. Can I make a suggestion about the furniture choices?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let’s just go with a neutral gray palette with small pops of color here and there. Let your craftsmanship be the showpiece here. That rustic mantel is gorgeous up against the white brick fireplace. We want that to be the focal point, not the sofa.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  I gave him a verbal description of the layout I had in mind and the type of furniture I saw in my head. When we stood in the dining room, I happened to glance out the window and saw Wren sitting in Grandpa’s recliner. I’d have taken that thing to the nursing home if I could, but they drew the line at furniture. Wren had never sat in that chair before, and I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that he was sitting in it now. He kept his eyes aimed at the television but he wasn’t fooling me.

  I turned away from the window and caught Andy’s eye. I realized that he had stayed within view of that window the entire time I’d been there. I just shook my head and continued with the discussion. “I didn’t originally mention this to you last night, but I wasn’t aware this house had such a lovely dining room.” I looked up at the tray ceilings and crown molding. “I think that the dining room has to be high on the list of rooms for staging. We can back off one of the other rooms if…”

  “No, it’s fine. I really like everything you’ve said so far. So, what’s next?”

  “I put together a design proposal and fee schedule for you to approve,” I answered. “If you do, then I place the order for furniture and schedule a delivery.”

  “How long will that take you?”

  “I’ll have a proposal to you by the end of the week,” I told him. “Delivery of furniture can take days or weeks depending on how much you order and if they have our pieces available. I can take you to a few showrooms if you’d like.”

  “I trust you,” Andy said quickly. I figured it had more to do with the hulk of a man across the street, but I let it pass without comment.

  “I’ll be in touch soon,” I told him before I left.

  I didn’t exactly stomp across the street, but it was close.

  “Bad meeting, Sparkles?” Wren asked after I slammed the front door shut.

  “It was a great meeting,” I replied. “The best I ever had.” That earned a raised brow. “I’m pretty sure I got my first paying customer.”

  “So why do you look so mad?”

  “Why are you sitting in that chair, Wren?”

  “I wasn’t aware that Grandpa’s chair was off-limits. I’m pretty sure he’d want me to sit in it and get good use out of it. I bet he stays awake at night worrying that we’re neglecting his chair.”

  “You’re so full of shit,” I said, trying to hold back the laughter. “You were spying on us.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You would, and more importantly, you did.” I shook my head slowly. “This kind of behavior can’t go unpunished, Wren.”

  “Oh, what are you going to do to me?”

  “I don’t know right now, but it’s going to be diabolical.” The solution came to me that night just before I fell asleep. It looked like I needed to make another trip to Kim’s Toys.

  Before I knew it, March had arrived with a whispered promise of pleasant weather that Mother Nature would most likely viciously yank back at any second. A person didn’t pack away their winter gear in Southern Ohio in March, or even April for that matter, because that fickle beyotch, Mother Nature, giveth then taketh away. One day it could be a warm, sunny day in the upper fifties and the very next it could be a blizzard. You’d go from windows down and rad
io blaring, to bunkering down all wrapped up in a burrito of blankets. Now, if that burrito of blankets also included a sexy, naked man who you loved more than your next breath, you find it really hard to be upset when the weather turned cold again.

  My life had changed so much since I met Dare that I almost didn’t recognize it, or myself. It got harder every day to plant an indifferent mask on my face when Dare lit me on fire from within. However, it was comical to see the shock on people’s faces when I laughed or smiled.

  “Did you ever watch Beauty and the Beast?” Dare asked me one afternoon at the salon. I quirked a brow and he shook his head in disappointment. “Of course not, but we can change all that now that I’ve domesticated you.”

  “Domesticated me?” I wasn’t a fucking alley cat or stray dog!

  “Mellowed you out,” Dare suggested instead. “Don’t get stuck on that part of the conversation, love. Pay attention and keep up.” Then he aimed a disarming smile at me before continuing with the story about a prince who was changed into a beast and his castle full of servants who were turned into objects like brooms, candelabras, and teapots.

  “You and your fairy tales,” I muttered under my breath.

  “We all want a fairy tale, Wren. The difference is in the type of fairy tale and the outcome. No two people’s happily ever after is the same. And that’s how it should be.” This was said to me in a deadpan, serious voice like you’d expect someone to use while discussing the history of the world. My guy took his fairy tales and happily ever after very serious, but I already knew that.

  “Tell me more,” I told him.

  Dare continued to tell me in fine detail about how Belle was their only hope of breaking the spell. For that to happen, Beast needed her to fall in love with him. “True love fixes everything,” Dare said dramatically. “Anyway, there’s this one scene in the movie that Beast is trying to look less threatening and he smiles at Belle, but it’s all teeth. He looks like he wants to eat her for lunch instead of….”

  “Maybe he does. Did you ever stop to think about that?”