by C. J. Anaya
Blanche pointed her fork at him in warning.
“You’re going to have to figure out a way to keep her on. She fully expects to be eliminated after the first day.”
He’d spent the last few hours contemplating that very problem.
“Oh, I have a plan, mother. Don’t you worry about that.”
“My darling Brody, when it comes to you and plans, I’m never worried if you’ll be following through, but you have a variable you can’t control in this one, and it sounds to me like she’s a spirited girl with a mind of her own. So a bit of advice for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t screw this up.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Of course. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the little ladies room.”
“Am I ordering you dessert?”
His mother placed a hand on her ample waist as she stood. “Does it look as if I’m counting calories?”
“I’m going to dodge the trap embedded in that loaded question and just order the usual.”
“Smart boy.”
Midge continued to linger in the restaurant’s elaborate ladies room, dreading to return to her shallow date and the monotony of their inane chit chat which centered solely around him. His hints at future dinner dates with her and her father had been about as subtle as an elephant wearing a clown suit while bearing a hand sign that read SUBTLE in bold red ink. His roving hand under the table proved difficult to dodge in such a tiny space.
A trip to the ladies’ room had been her only solution.
She leaned her elbows against the marble counter near the porcelain sink with its tiny soaps and lotion bottles. Her face sank into the curve of her hands and a quiet moan escaped her lips.
“That bad, is it?”
Midge’s head popped up at the slight intrusion. She glanced in the mirror and saw an older, elegant looking woman with naturally wavy hair the color of snow. Midge had never encountered a woman brave enough to leave her hair untouched by dyes and highlights, but the pure white of her hair made her striking blue eyes more pronounced. There were fine lines that rested within the creases of her brow and the corners of her eyes. She looked rather timeless, and Midge had a wild thought that her fairy godmother had come to spirit her away to a more promising prince where she would find true love at last.
“Wh…what’s that bad?” Midge asked.
Her fairy godmother’s sympathetic smile reflected back at her through the mirror. The kind woman rested a weathered hand upon her shoulder.
“Is it a first date or are you suffering through the, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech?”
Midge couldn’t help but grin at the perceptive question.
“First date. Not necessarily the most hellish date I’ve been on, but there’s nothing worse than getting to know someone you would normally avoid like the plague.”
“Ah, then it was a set-up?”
“More like an ambush.”
Her fairy godmother chuckled. “Oh dear! Those are the worst kind. Are you dealing with someone who can’t keep his hands to himself or is he simply centering the conversation around his many virtues minus the vices?”
Midge snorted. “Both. I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to get through the rest of dinner without throwing my water in his face.”
Her fairy godmother’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Please tell me you’re seated somewhere on the first floor where I can watch the action unfold and possibly throw a few pieces of shrimp over the balcony’s edge…just for good measure.”
“We’re on the balcony; unfortunately, and as much as I would love to have someone armed and dangerous in my corner, I think it would be better to keep you out of the crossfire.”
“Pity. I have such wonderful aim.”
Midge grinned widely. “Of that, I have no doubt. Are you here with someone special?”
“My son. He likes to treat his old mother to dinner, and I’m a huge fan of eating food I don’t have to cook.”
“Ah, a restaurant junkie after my own heart.”
Her fairy godmother washed her hands under the sink, nodding in approval before saying, “It surprises me that a girl like you is on a first date instead of out with a serious boyfriend.”
Midge thought carefully before responding. “I think I’m a little too blunt for the men I’ve been introduced to. I’ve been told I’m an acquired taste.”
The older woman dried her hands. “Like a fine wine, then? Sounds like you’re someone worth savoring. My name is Blanche Prescott.”
Prescott? Probably a coincidence. There were plenty of Prescott’s in the area.
“I’m Madelyn Knightly. It’s very nice to meet you.” At the sound of her name, recognition set into her fairy godmother’s features. She sometimes wished her name didn’t bring to mind her producer father. Once her name was mentioned, an uncomfortable air of expectation usually descended like a smothering blanket. She then felt it her duty to share all sorts of anecdotes concerning the life of a Hollywood producer’s daughter.
Instead of the interrogation she dreaded, her fairy godmother merely smiled and said, “What a beautiful name, Madelyn. Is it a family name?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. My mother doesn’t discuss her background and my father’s parents passed away when he was in college. I’ve never thought to ask.”
“Well, either way, it suits you.”
“Thank you.”
Midge wanted to splash some water on her face before returning to her date, but her make-up prevented her from that reviving course of action. She thought it might somehow fortify her nerve to see the evening through, a sort of protective cleansing. Heavens, her thoughts were lingering toward the more supernatural side of things. An obvious sign of her desperation to simply disappear.
She noticed her fairy godmother giving her a searching stare in the mirror. She smiled and received a self-deprecating smile in return.
“Do you think I could trouble you to help me back up that menace of a staircase? I assured my son that I would manage just fine, but I am beginning to feel a slight twinge in my knees.”
”Oh, of course.”
The poor woman must have been embarrassed to ask for help.
Midge looped an arm through Blanche’s and opened the bathroom door, ushering her through.
Blanche hardly seemed to struggle as they ascended the staircase, and Midge noticed that she didn’t seem much out of breath either. Strange to think of this vibrant woman needing anyone’s help with anything.
As they neared her private dining table, Midge saw a man’s sleek black dress shoe peeking out the side and noted that the son was seated with his back to them. She refrained from looking at him, too preoccupied with making certain her fairy godmother was seated comfortably.
Blanche turned her attention to her son. “My dear, I ran into an angel in the ladies room, and she was kind enough to help me up that treacherous staircase.”
“I’d recognize that fiery red hair anywhere.”
Sweet maple syrup!
Midge stood stock still at the sound of a voice she feared was far too familiar. She spun her head around only to have those fears confirmed, and then turned her head back to her traitorous fairy godmother. Instead of delivering her into the arms of a prince, she’d been thrown into yet another ambush.
“Brody Prescott is your son?”
“Why, yes. Do you two know each other?” Her question held nothing but guileless innocence.
Midge’s head quickly swiveled back to Brody. She felt irked at the delighted smile spreading across his lips and the way it tugged at her heart just a little.
“This lovely young lady is Midge.”
“Oh, you’re the girl from the café? How delightful!” The surprise Blanche exhibited seemed a bit forced, almost rehearsed. The knowing grin on her face certainly told its own story.
Midge couldn’t believe he’d been discussing her with his mother. A fierce blush rose to her ch
eeks, as she worried about the unfavorable way in which he might have described her.
“I’d…better return to my table.” Midge attempted to back away, but she was detained by a firm hand encasing her own. She glanced toward Brody in surprise.
“I’m not going to allow you to leave without first learning your full name.”
Midge hoped her fairy godmother would remain quiet on that score, but she didn’t like the knowing grin Brody wore. Did he already know who she was?
“And I’m not going to keep my date waiting just so you can learn something you’ll never have need of.”
She thought she heard a choked chortling sound coming from Mrs. Prescott and cringed at the thought of offending the sweet woman by giving her son the cold shoulder. She liked the lady immensely, but Brody’s unexpected presence had undermined her steady composure.
“You’re here on a date? Who is he?” Confused by his irritated tone, she watched in amazement as he stood up and gripped her just above the elbow, turning her body to face him. She heard a breathy, “Oh, my!” from his mother, causing an angry blush to slink its way across her cheeks.
The nerve of this man! Does he really believe my dating life is any of his business?
“That’s really none of your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me—” She felt a firm tug on her arm.
Brody’s eyes sparkled in amusement, interest, and an angry possessive fire whose origins left Midge completely baffled.
“I’m afraid I don’t excuse you. I must admit to being intrigued by the notion that any man on this planet might possibly meet up to your stringent expectations when it comes to character and personality.”
“Stringent?” Midge placed her free hand on her hip and began tapping her foot. Its soft thudding wasn’t quite as satisfactory as it would have been on a hardwood floor. “I merely gave you some suggestions, a few guidelines if you will, since you’re so woefully inept at chasing after anything that hasn’t been filled with silicone.” Another chortle from the mother sounded to her right. “As far as my dating life is concerned, well, I’m not the one attempting to save it with reality TV now, am I?”
“A low blow, young lady. I’m beginning to think you’ve grossly misjudged me.”
“You mean in the same way you misjudged me by scoffing at my mousy librarian appearance while simultaneously calling me a nun?”
“He didn’t,” Mrs. Prescott said.
“He did.” Midge turned to Brody’s mother and the two ladies shared a look of commiseration, as only females can.
“I didn’t exactly put it that way, but you definitely don’t look like a nun tonight. That black sequined dress highlights all of your assets.”
Midge raised her eyebrows in outrage as he made a great show of looking her up and down…in front of his mother.
“I’d tell you to eat your heart out if I thought it would have any impact, but since I’m nowhere near your type, I’m afraid it would be a waste of time.”
“It is quite a daring little number, dear girl. Your curves and legs look so feminine. Where ever did you get it?” Mrs. Prescott asked in a conversational tone.
“Macy’s clearance sale. Two weeks ago.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Such a steal. What else do they have over there?”
In that moment, Midge went from liking Brody’s mother to absolutely adoring her.
Dang it.
“Mom, you and Midge can discuss shopping some other time. I’m trying to figure out if I should steal her away and drive her home tonight.” His teasing smile nearly coaxed a returning smile of her own. “Your date is an idiot for leaving you alone like this. Any red-blooded male around here is bound to pounce.”
Horrified, Midge took a step backward, but Brody still had a firm hand around her arm.
Cretin.
“Mr. Prescott, you’re making a bit of a scene. I’ll ask you to release me before we cause your mother any further embarrassment.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. This dinner has just gone from dull to delightful. No offense son.”
“None taken,” he grinned.
Midge narrowed her eyes at Brody and attempted to pull away with no success.
“You are not driving me home.”
“Well, I’m not letting you leave until I know for certain that your date isn’t hammered.”
Midge hesitated for a moment, remembering the several glasses of champagne Alexander had already worked his way through.
“Aha.” Brody’s smile smacked of satisfaction. “I’m not the only one worried. Now, hows about you introduce me to the man lucky enough to earn a date with you, and we’ll inform him of the abrupt change in plans.”
Midge shook her head, letting out a disbelieving snort. “There is absolutely no way I am leaving my date only to enter a vehicle with you.”
Blanche lifted a hand to grab her attention. “You’ll be quite safe, my dear. I’ll be there to chaperon should my son have any ideas of seduction or conquest. Though who could blame him, really. That dress looks positively sinful on you.”
Midge’s shocked expression did little to quell the innocent smile upon Blanche’s face. She felt someone approaching them from the right.
“Madelyn, what’s keeping you? Oh, hello, Brody.”
Dismayed, Midge turned to see her date sidling up to her with a drunken leer upon his face. It didn’t surprise her that he knew Brody. Same social circles, after all.
She noted Brody’s face lighting with surprise which quickly turned to irritation.
“Alexander Montgomery. I had no idea you knew this lovely lady, Madelyn, is it?” He turned his irritated look to her. “That guy gets to know your real name, and I don’t?”
Midge squeezed her eyes tight, hoping her date wouldn’t reveal her last name.
Brody’s eyes glittered with repressed rage as he pulled her closer to him.
“You have the nerve to nail me for my dating choices while you’re schmoozing with the biggest womanizer of them all?”
Midge wasn’t about to defend herself or the position she was in to Brody Prescott of all people.
Alexander’s drunkenness must have impaired his hearing since he didn’t even register the insult.
“Have you two never met before? Allow me to make those introductions,” Alexander said as he wavered upon his feet.
“Not necessary, Alexander. I believe Mr. Prescott and I are as acquainted as we’ll ever need to be. Shall we get you back to our table?”
She discreetly pulled her arm from Brody’s grasp and gave her date her other arm for support.
“Absolutely lovely meeting you, Mrs. Prescott,” she managed.
“Don’t be a stranger, dear. Brody may bite, but I certainly don’t.”
Midge’s lip curled in amusement, and then she was off with her inebriated date in tow, and not a moment too soon. Brody Prescott had almost convinced her to allow him to drive her home.
Chapter Four
Brody’s gut clenched at the sight of Alexander Montgomery draping an arm around Madelyn Knightly. He couldn’t fathom what had induced the level headed girl to go out with quite possibly the worst man Brody had ever had the misfortune of socializing with. Had her father introduced them? Why would he do something like that?
He took his seat almost mechanically, not allowing Midge out of his sight until she seated Alexander and herself in a private dining area three booths down.
Not too far away, then. He could keep an eye on her and make certain that reprobate didn’t try anything. His thoughts were interrupted by a swift jab to his shin.
“Brody, for Heaven’s sake, have you heard a word I’ve said?”
He blinked twice, and then gave his mother a chagrined grimace. “I’m sorry. I seem to be a bit preoccupied with Madelyn’s sudden arrival.”
“Obviously.” His mother put all the force of her sarcasm behind that one word. “You called her a mousy librarian? No wonder the girl behaved so ho
stilely toward you, and you didn’t improve upon further inspection, what with ordering her about and attempting to terminate her date without her consent. Women don’t like to be manhandled, Brody.” His mother smiled, bringing a glass to her lips before saying, “At least, not right away.”
“I’d rather not know your meaning behind that last remark.”
“Oh, but I do like her. She’s got spirit and refuses to let you get away with anything. I heartily approve.”
Brody let his eyes wander toward Midge’s booth, hoping for a brief glimpse of her creamy shoulder, made creamier by the stark contrast of her black gown with it’s swooped neck-line and daring V in the back.
“She’s quite miserable, you know?”
Brody broke from his trance to take in the sly expression on his mother’s face. “What?”
“In the ladies room she appeared upset. From what I gathered, she was forced into this blind date and couldn’t be more unhappy about it.”
Brody’s relief at his mother’s explanation nearly bowled him over.
“I knew she had more sense than…you knew exactly who she was when you brought her up here, didn’t you?”
His mother’s satisfied grin was contagious.
“I fell in love with her the moment I met her and couldn’t wait to see what fireworks a little run-in between the two of you might produce. Neither one of you disappointed on that score.”
“She doesn’t like me much, does she?”
“Oh, I’d say you’ve gotten under her skin. She just needs a little time to adjust.”
He couldn’t help but worry that he had managed to make a mess of everything. Madelyn Knightly was not the type of girl to be easily impressed by flowers, chocolates, or expensive jewelry. No, she was an enigma. The most beautiful enigma he’d ever encountered.
“Brody, this idea of dating her on a reality TV series is absolutely insane. Pursuing her in that setting holds too many variables you can’t control.”
“I can’t convince her to not do the show, Mother. She needs her trust fund to pay for college, and I’d rather avoid Corbin Knightly’s wrath if at all possible. I’d happily pay the tuition for her, but I can’t see a way of suggesting it without her taking offense or assuming there would be sexual strings attached.”