Cinderella Busted (The Cinderella Romances #1)

by Petie McCarty

  As she started to climb from the cab, Rob put a hand out to stop her. “Will you be okay if there’s another ugly scene with Buchanan?” he asked pointedly.

  “Probably not, but I don’t think he’ll lose his temper at his own headquarters. Bad show and all.” She smiled. “But if he does, I guess I’ll know one way or the other how our future will all shake out.”

  “Lily, this has disaster written all over it,” he protested, “and I don’t want to see you hurt. You are going into his office building, for crying out loud, and a guy has his pride. You wandered around the nursery like a zombie for days after that last scene at his mansion, and I don’t want to see you hurt like that again. The nursery needs you to be a hundred percent, especially with the new annuals and interiors lines.”

  “I know. I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

  “I can’t stop worrying. You’re going into his private headquarters.”

  “Yep.”

  “What if he shows up and accuses you of chasing after him?” He shook his head. “Do you want to end up looking like a fool?”

  Her gaze shot to his. “I won’t.”

  “How do you know that?” His voice grew louder.

  “Because I’ll only look like a fool if I let myself, and I don’t intend to. I intend to look like the trained professional I am, and I intend to do the job I was hired to do. If he can’t take that, I can’t help him.”

  Rob scrubbed a palm down his face. “Lily, let it go before it’s too late. Don’t let him break your heart.”

  “I can’t let it go,” she cried, hating that her voice shook, “and it’s already too late.”

  He gaped at her incredulously, and that was all it took. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. He frowned and held out his arms, and she went into them. She let herself shed a few tears because it felt so good after bottling up her emotions for the last week, but she quickly stifled them. Garrett was meeting her, and she couldn’t let him see her upset. She swiped at both cheeks and pulled away from Rob.

  “You really are in love with him, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

  The tears threatened a resurgence. She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “I was afraid to tell you.” She turned away. “I was afraid to admit it to myself.”

  “Hank made me promise if anything ever happened to him, I’d look after you.”

  Lily spun around and stared. “He did?”

  Rob nodded. “Several years ago in fact, and I promised I would though I’d have done it without him asking. Looks like I’ve done a lousy job.”

  She frowned. “No, you haven’t. You’ve always watched out for me.”

  “I let you go play Cinderella and fall in love and get hurt,” he grumbled.

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “Sure it was. That was all part of looking after you. Now, I just have to fix the problem.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked warily.

  “You mean what are we going to do?” he said and grinned.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “You and I are going into BDC together to deliver plants. At the worst, I’ll be there to protect you if he tries to throw you out.” His grin broadened. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll even make him jealous.”

  Her stomach in knots, she hopped out of the truck cab and scampered up the front steps and into the lobby. A cheap imitation of the Incredible Hulk in a suit—sans green makeup—lounged behind a long reception counter. Obviously, a security guard of some sort. The sleeves of his navy blazer pulled tight across his shoulders when he swiveled the sign-in sheet to face her.

  “Sign in,” Hulk said curtly.

  “But I’m just here to deliver plants,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice from carrying in the cavernous white-marble lobby.

  Garrett was right. The place needed plants.

  She smiled at the guard.

  And Buchanan deserves to have these particular plants.

  “Doesn’t matter. Everyone signs in, Mr. Buchanan’s orders,” Hulk said, not returning her smile.

  “Fine.” She scrawled their names on his sign-in sheet. “Can we prop the door open to bring the carts in and out?”

  “No,” Hulk said bluntly. “Mr. Buchanan says the doors are to remain shut at all times.”

  “Can we stage the plants in the lobby then?”

  “Mr. Buchanan says—”

  Lily held up a hand to silence the guard and tried not to explode. If she heard one more Mr. Buchanan says, she would scream. The man was an ogre, and she was well rid of him if he ran his building and staff this way.

  “Look, I know you have your rules, but we need to get a truckload of plants into this building in a hurry. So, I’m going to stage them in the lobby, and if you need permission, then you go ahead and call—”

  “Me,” a cheerful voice said from behind her.

  The grouchy guard broke into a smile. “Good morning, Mr. Tucker.”

  Garrett nodded at the guard and smiled at Lily. “Sorry I’m late. Hope you didn’t have any trouble.”

  Lily eyed the guard and whispered to Garrett, “Too much Mr. Buchanan says no and Mr. Buchanan won’t allow . . .”

  Garrett laughed. “Rhett runs a tight ship. Doesn’t want folks sneaking in and finding out what we’re working on before he’s ready to unveil his next masterpiece.”

  “He’s not here, is he?” she asked warily.

  “No, and he isn’t due back from his investor meeting for a couple hours.” He took her elbow and guided her to the door, then called back to the guard, “I’m going to prop the door open, Gerald, and we’re going to stage plants in the lobby for a while.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Tucker,” Gerald said, smiling. When Garrett turned to Lily, the guard gave her a smirk.

  Lily’s eyes narrowed.

  “Is he smirking at you?” Garrett asked softly, his eyes on her.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  He chuckled again. “Rhett hired the guy personally, and so Gerald is loyal to a fault. Now let’s get your plants in here, so you can get moving.”

  She stifled the urge to stick her tongue out at the guard and followed Garrett out the now-propped-open door. At the truck, Rob had already started loading plants onto one of the cage carts.

  “You don’t have to help, Garrett,” Lily protested when he hopped into the back of the truck and grabbed a sleeved palm.

  “Sure I do.” He winked at her. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  They loaded up the first metal cage cart, and Rob started for the ramp at the front door.

  “Why are you so worried about running into Rhett while you’re here?” Garrett asked nonchalantly as he pulled more plants from the back of the truck.

  “I’m not.”

  He straightened and stared at her.

  “Okay, I am. I just don’t want another confrontation with the ogre. That’s all.”

  “You know, you two have way more in common than you think. You’re two peas in a pod.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked worriedly. Did Garrett think she was an ogre, too?

  “You’re both driven to succeed at everything you try—business and pleasure—and if you don’t succeed, you take it personally.”

  Lily was aghast.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s true. Rhett had to be number one in school. He killed himself studying at the sake of any kind of social life, taking full loads and getting straight A’s.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Tammy says you were the same way,” he said and gave her a don’t-think-about-arguing-because-I’m-right look.

  Lily grimaced
.

  “Both of you are now driven at your jobs at the sake of all else,” he went happily on to prove his point. “Working long hours and no social life.”

  She frowned at him. “I have a social—”

  “No, you don’t,” he shot back. “Not according to Tammy, you don’t. Hell, Rhett doesn’t need any more money, and your nursery can’t get any bigger. You’ve developed every square foot or almost.”

  She just stared at him.

  He grinned. “Like I said, two peas in a pod. Made for each other. Now, will you take a chance? Take the risk with me?”

  Tammy’s words came back to haunt again. You’ll have to at least take the risk or you’ll never find Mr. Right.

  “What kind of risk?” she asked.

  “Give me a shot at patching you guys up without getting mad at me or more importantly, at Rhett. What do you say?”

  What did she say? Though she’d tried to convince herself she hated Rhett Buchanan for what he had done—or at the very least, disliked him—she was only lying to herself. If Rhett showed up here today, her heart would race and her palms would sweat.

  Face it, Lily. You’re not over Rhett Buchanan—not by a long shot.

  “Well, what do you say?” Garrett repeated, his expression earnest.

  “I say, okay. Maybe.”

  “Good enough.” He grinned and passed her a sleeved Spathiphyllum.

  In a very short time, the three had all the interior plants staged in the lobby and grouped by variety.

  “We’ve got four floors,” Garrett said. “The back half of the first floor, behind this lobby, is all clerical and administrative support. I want a third of the plants in there. I need to keep those folks happy.”

  Lily smiled.

  “Floor two is our marketing and design teams; third floor is finance; and four is executives. We divide the remaining plants between those three floors.”

  “Can we do the fourth floor first?” Lily asked.

  “Sure, Rob and I will do that floor. You take two,” Garrett said.

  Lily blew out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

  They separated the plant material by floors and then loaded carts. Lily arrived on the second floor and pushed her cage cart out into a small, deserted reception area. To the right extended a long hall leading to a series of doored offices and windowed anterooms, and to the left extended a long aisle armored on both sides with a sea of metal cubicles. She headed toward the cubicle aisle first.

  Garrett had merely said to use her judgment in placing the stock and specified only that two-thirds of the floor’s allotment should go to the cubicles and the remainder to the other offices, which suited Lily just fine. Swiftly delivering the appropriate amount of stock to delighted cubicle occupants, she moved on to the right hallway, casting surreptitious glances through doors and windows as she passed.

  She dropped off and unsleeved a variety of palms, peace lilies, and aralias as she moved down the hall, leaving most of the plants in the anterooms for the secretaries to enjoy. All recipients conveyed their thanks.

  A large reception area guarded the executive offices at the far end of the hall, and she aimed her cart and its sole remaining occupant in that direction. As she eased the cart forward, she noticed the gentleman conversing with the seated receptionist, and she froze.

  Chester Armstead blinked back at her through thickened lenses. His eyes suddenly narrowed. Lily wanted to back her cart all the way to the elevator, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet move.

  “Well, my goodness,” he said, looking her up and down. “Lily Foster, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” She attempted a smile and failed miserably. Armstead certainly didn’t look surprised to see her pushing a plant cart. No doubt Delia had filled him in on the ill-fated nursery delivery at Rhett’s home.

  “Chester Armstead,” he said, stepping forwarded and extending his hand. “We met at my daughter Delia’s cocktail party. You were with—”

  “I remember,” she said, cutting him off and quickly giving his hand one hard shake. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her shorts.

  “So Rhett’s decided to dress up the interior as well as the exterior of his building, I see.”

  “No, Garrett is,” she replied. “I mean, Mr. Tucker ordered this stock.”

  “Oh well, same thing. Garrett is as much BDC as Rhett is.” He gave her another condescending once-over, much to the delight of the receptionist leaning around him to get a look at Lily.

  “Spending time with Rhett has sure kick-started your business. Hasn’t it, Ms. Foster? I wonder, was that a fortuitous venture or was that planned?” An evil glint flashed in his eyes.

  Lily hated the man’s ugly insinuation, but she couldn’t win here. There was no good answer to his question, so she opted for evasion.

  “I have work to do, Mr. Armstead. If you’ll excuse me?”

  He stepped in front of her cart. “On another floor?”

  A stubborn set to her chin, she met his contemptuous gaze. “That’s right. The third floor is next, so if you’ll let me pass, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Of course.” He made a great show of stepping aside, as though brushing up against her would get him dirty.

  She clenched her teeth, unsleeved the sole Spathiphyllum she had remaining on the cart, and hustled back to the elevator.

  Armstead watched her go and turned to the receptionist. “I’m finished here, Kathy. Be a dear and call Mr. Buchanan’s secretary and have her tell Rhett to meet me on the third floor instead of up in his office, then have her call Aiden Cross and tell him the same thing. I’ll be on three with Lucas Van Dorn. We can have our meeting in his private conference room.”

  Lily had tortured herself every night since the charity gala with visions of Rhett and Delia in bed together. He had left the gala, his arm tight around Delia, without a backward glance in Lily’s direction. Their fledgling relationship had ended at his mansion, but that flagrant gala exit put an exclamation point on the finale.

  Now, standing in the lobby of BDC and reloading her cart for the third floor, she had to fight back images of Rhett. Though she’d never been here before, this building was his headquarters, and she could almost see him everywhere she looked, coming and going for his regular workdays.

  She told her herself over and over that Rhett had destroyed any feelings she’d had for him the minute he had tossed her out of his house, but her mind and her memories teamed up with other ideas. Memories of their romantic week in New York stealthily evaded her best defenses and slipped into focus at off times throughout the day. Snippets of memories to make her breath catch in her throat or trip her up as she moved through the greenhouses.

  Rhett holding her hand in the horse-drawn carriage in the moonlight.

  Rhett buying an orchid from a street vendor and tucking it behind her ear as they boarded the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.

  Rhett sharing a chaise lounge with her on their balcony at the Waldorf Astoria, and the two of them kissing and talking till three in the morning.

  One by one, the memories all paraded past to taunt her with their soul-deep joy, tantalizing with their promise of a real-life fairy tale. Yet the memory of Rhett that made her ache the worst for what might have been didn’t involve any physical interaction with her.

  On the last day of their trip, Rhett had taken her to New York’s most famous cathedral—St. Patty’s he’d called it—and introduced her to an elderly priest who came rushing over to greet them as soon as they stepped into the cathedral’s darkened interior. After shaking Father Tom’s hand, Lily had proceeded down the center aisle and was immediately taken aback by the magnificent architecture of the edifice and the incredible stained glass windows, but even more so by the bodies lying prostrate in the pews. She stared for
a moment before she realized they were all homeless people, sleeping where they could be cool and dry.

  Lily turned to ask Rhett about this and noticed he was still back in the narthex with Father Tom. As she watched, Rhett covertly placed something in the older man’s hand before moving ahead to join her in the aisle.

  Later when they were leaving the sanctuary, Rhett had been pulled aside to greet another younger priest, and Father Tom had approached Lily to say good-bye.

  “You have a fine man there, Lily,” Father Tom said, intimating their relationship to be more permanent than it actually was, and she couldn’t find the will to correct him. She liked the priest thinking of her and Rhett as permanent.

  “He always stops in to see us when he’s in New York, and he never forgets them,” Father Tom was saying and angled his head toward the pews that held the sleeping homeless.

  “Never forgets them?” she parroted in question.

  The priest leaned back to study her face. “Didn’t you know?”

  Clueless as to what he was talking about, she shook her head.

  Father Tom smiled gently. “Well, I don’t suppose he’d mind me telling you since he said you were special.”

  Rhett had said she was special? She nodded as though granting permission, though she really wanted to keep him talking, and the priest smiled.

  “When Rhett stops by to visit on his trips to New York City, he always asks ‘How many?’ Then he leaves enough for each of them to have a hundred.”

  Bewildered, she asked, “A hundred what?”

  Father Tom chuckled. “Dollars.”

  “He handed you money?”

  Father Tom nodded. “Always does. Says he remembers all too well what it’s like to be poor and hungry.” The elderly priest grinned, and his cheeks folded into numerous wrinkles. “Never matters how many are present. He never misses one. Sometimes we have three dozen or so in here.”