Tinderella

by Bartlett, Jecca

  As she approached the coffee shop the smell of the rich Columbian brew and something cinnamon and sweet caught her attention. Cinnamon rolls. Perfect, she was trying to recall where she had read that cinnamon rolls was one of the scents men got aroused by, when she nearly collided with a very tall wall of a man in a pale blue shirt. She stopped short and looked up into sky blue eyes, fashionably cut hair and a smirk.

  "Excuse me! I'm sorry. I was daydreaming!" she sputtered.

  "Not at all, it isn't every day someone is so engrossed in their thoughts that they don't see me."

  He stuck out his hand "Pearce, and you're Cyndi, right, we have a date."

  "Oh, right, right, I recognize you, I was just...," later she would attribute her inability to put two and two together and come up with Pearce from the penthouse to the aroma of cinnamon rolls. It had to be the rolls that steered her off course, how could she not have realized it was him?

  "May I get you some coffee?"

  "I'll get it, thanks."

  "No, I insist, it's not quid pro quo here, you don't owe me anything," he wiggled his eyebrows and smiled again. "And how about a roll? Cinnamon? They smell fantastic!"

  "I know, that's why I was so distracted coming in." she smiled, "I'll get us a table outside, okay? Cream and sugar," she called over her shoulder

  "Sure," he called back as he approached the barista. Cyndi took a moment to watch him walk. He must have been an athlete once, he moved with a self confident grace that was definitely not fake.

  Well spoken, polite, handsome, little bit of a smirk. More importantly he gave her that feeling. The butterfly one. She was excited. This was promising.

  She watched him approach as he left the cafe and walked to the table. He held open the door for a mom pushing two toddlers in a stroller, then sat at the table and handed her the coffee and a cinnamon roll. As he gave her the roll their hands touched for a moment and she felt it. That spark, the beginning of something. She hoped it was something good.

  ****

  When she thought about it later, she couldn't decide exactly where she had gone wrong. But then she hadn't set up the date, so maybe that was it. The origination story was borked.

  As they sipped their coffees they looked awkwardly at one another for a moment. Then both spoke at the same time.

  "I'm sorry if--"

  "I hope the coffee isn't--"

  He laughed, "You go first."

  "No, it's fine, what were you going to say?"

  "Just that I hope I fixed your coffee right. How about you? You were going to apologize, we've known each other for like, 6 minutes, what's to apologize for?"

  Cyndi smiled, "Right, it's just that, well I hope I'm who you think I am. You know? I mean, oh, it's hard to explain. Well, not really hard, but, I didn't set up this date." Cyndi glanced up in time to see his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "My friend Gooch, she set it up. She stole my password, well no that's not true, she set my password in the first place, I'm not even sure how she did it. But I had a scary crappy date and she felt like I had to get back on the horse."

  "And I'm the horse?"

  Cyndi nodded.

  "I see, well I've been called worse. So, your profile, is it you? I mean the picture is. But what it says?" he smiled at her, he was taking this well. His eyes crinkled when he grinned and he had a little bit of a dimple in his right cheek. She watched his lips move as he talked and wondered briefly what it would feel like to have those lips on hers.

  "Oh, yeah, I set it up. It's me alright. I just wasn't going to swipe right, that's all."

  "Should I be offended?"

  "No, it's totally not you. I mean that, it's the last guy. You can blame him."

  "What did he do? Was he smelly? Particularly ugly? Those are two areas where I feel like I'm safe. I just showered, and I have been told more than once that I'm normal looking."

  "No, he. Well, wait, you're very handsome and you smell fantastic."

  "It's probably the cinnamon."

  "No, it's definitely you." She smiled, "He, well, he ordered for me, and separately the dishes would have been fine, but together, not so much. That's forgivable though, first dates are kind of nerve wracking. It was the handcuffs."

  Visibly startled he leaned in and whispered "Handcuffs? Did you say handcuffs?

  "Yep, I did. Handcuffs."

  "Was he a cop?"

  "No, he was an options trader, with an ego the size of a two ton pick-up truck. And handcuffs. I don't know," she twined her hair around her fingers. "I mean, who does that?"

  "To clarify, this was your first date?"

  "Mmmm-hmmm, first and last."

  "Well, I'm not sure I can live up to that. Let's see," he said reaching into his jacket pocket. "Phone, notepad, two gel pens, a set of keys, notice none of them will open handcuffs, and a stick of gum. I had two but I chewed one before I got here, would you like one?"

  Cyndi laughed and relaxed a bit, maybe this was going to be okay? "No, no gum thanks, it won't go with the cinnamon roll. How about your slacks, any handcuffs in there?"

  "No, although I do have a small Swiss Army knife. Just in case. That's what I say to myself every morning when I put it in my pocket. When I was a kid, my grandad gave me my first pocket knife, it was a very solemn event," his eyes twinkled as he recalled his grandfather, "he said it was for emergencies. Just in case. And that's what I've thought ever since, every day when I put it in my pocket, just in case."

  "That's actually very sweet," Cyndi said.

  "Are you sure, I mean it's not going to be as good a story as handcuffs..."

  "That's okay, I can live with that."

  "This is fantastic by the way," she indicated the roll, and coffee, "thank you."

  "Of course, you're welcome. I know it's early, and you haven't finished your roll yet, but I hope you'll think about joining me for dinner. I'd hate to have you slip away so soon."

  Cyndi thought about it for a minute, but really, why not? This guy was fun, she was having a good time. "Sure, dinner would be great."

  They finished their coffees and decided to walk in the park to make some room for dinner. As they walked and talked Cyndi was struck by his good manners and knowledge of just about everything. She had asked him about it, but he had responded that he was well read, which seemed like a fair point, because clearly he was. As they walked side by side, occasionally their arms touched and she got that warm feeling again.

  Dinner was what Gooch would call a solid win. He knew of a small seafood restaurant on the other side of the city. They drove separately, and met out front. She was still trying to keep her car out of his sight. No small feat. He took her arm and escorted her in and wonder of wonders let her order her own meal. He was warm and funny and she was appreciating Gooch more with every moment. As they finished their desserts, Cyndi looked around the empty restaurant.

  "Looks like we outlasted just about everyone, I hate to call it a night, but I think our waitress would like to go home."

  "So would I, and I'd like you to come with me. An after dinner drink? You have your own car, you can make a getaway. I don't have handcuffs there either, just in case you were wondering."

  Cyndi nodded yes, and wondered if maybe she was about to make the whole slut thing come true after all. Did this make her a slut? Easy? Sexually available? She only knew one thing, that for the moment it was making her happy.

  She followed him back downtown, and as they approached his building it dawned on her that the name he'd said was the same name as the Penthouse banana bread guy. It shouldn't have made a difference, she knew that. She had told him she was an entrepreneur with her own small business, and had waved off further questions. She hadn't lied. There was something weird about sleeping with the guy whose house you cleaned though. It wasn't that sort of maid service.

  She parked a level away from him in the huge echoing garage and walked up the ramp to where he stood. He took her arm as they walked to the elevator. Her heels clicked and echoed on the c
ement and her butterflies were pterodactyls beating their wings to the rhythm of her footsteps.

  As they stepped inside the familiar elevator, she hoped against hope there were two Pearces in the building, but when he slid in his card for the penthouse, she knew that wasn't to be so. Still, it wouldn't be so bad, right? She knew already he liked her cooking and cleaning. That was two points in her favor. Guys like him though, guys who lived in penthouses and inherited their father's money, those guys didn't sleep with the maid service, she was pretty sure. Or if they did she had missed that memo.

  She thought about how to break it to him, you'll never believe who I really am, or can I ask, where did you get that awesome loaf pan, the one I used the other day for banana bread? She hated to not mention it, the longer it went the more of a lie it became. She didn't want to mention it either, she didn't want to break what was surely a spell. Cast by Gooch no doubt, she always had a spare red candle and gold cord for her matchmaking fix ups.

  As the entered the apartment that familiar feeling of coming home struck her again. She really did love this place. Something about it. She shook off the thought and followed him into the living room. Pearce tossed his coat on the sofa and she saw the coffee table was covered in sports pages. Again. She reached for them, out of habit, then stood back, hoping he hadn't seen her about to begin picking up the place. Get a grip Cyn, she told herself sternly. He wasn't a magical prince, he was just a guy, a nice, drop dead gorgeous one, but still, not a prince. He had his back to her and was on his way to the bar, "Can I get you something? A night cap?"

  "Just a cola thanks, if you have it. I still need to be able to drive home, and it's getting late."

  He stopped in his tracks and turned to glance at her, "You're welcome to stay, you know." Noticing her blush he added, "I have a guest room."

  Thanks, I, yeah, no, I think I'll head home in a while. I'm glad you invited me up though, what a magnificent view of the city!"

  "It is something, isn't it? Almost makes working for the old man worth it."

  "Almost? I thought you liked your job?"

  "I do, I do, it's just, he's, well, we see the world in different ways is all."

  "Oh, I see," she said, although she totally didn't.

  "C'mere," he said, pulling her close, "I've been wanting to do this all night." Gently he put his hand on her chin and tipped her head up so she was looking at him. His lips met hers and she felt her heart speed up. It wasn't as good as she had imagined. It was better.

  He shifted so his arms were completely around her and pulled her in tight. He was gentle but insistent. They broke the kiss and he put his head on top of hers, gently rubbing her back with the palm of his hand. She pulled back and looked up and he leaned forward again. His kiss was less gentle this time, there was more desire. His tongue parted her lips and found hers and she felt it everywhere. His hands on her, his lips, all of it conspired to create a white heat centered at her core that radiated out to the tips of her fingers. She had kissed other men before, of course, but this was different. This was a whole new experience.

  His cell phone began to ring and he glanced at the display.

  "See, this is what I was talking about, it's my dad, I have to take this. I'm sorry, it will just be a few minutes," he said as he slid the glass door to the balcony and stepped away.

  "Sure," she said to no one, as he walked along in front of the glass. He was already deep in conversation with his father.

  She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, it had somehow happened though, and it was clear from the conversation that his dad was talking to him about taking over her company. It had gotten back to him that she had said no, and they were discussing how much to offer and whether they needed her company for sure to make their franchise work.

  She began to panic, she couldn't help herself. What was she doing there? She knew this had been a terrible idea to begin with. As if the handcuff guy wasn't enough trouble, she had to tempt fate by trying one more time. And now here she was in an apartment she cleaned for a living, listening to a guy she barely knew talk about taking over her company.

  It was instinct more than anything else, but she felt like she had to run, had to get out of there. Later she would describe it as a panic attach, and maybe that's what it was. She didn't know for sure, but at the time the one thing she did know was she had to get out of there. She turned quickly, before he could shut off the phone, and grabbed her purse and left. It wasn't exactly heroic. In fact it was kind of crazy, and she knew it. She did it anyway. It was only later that night, after she was snug in bed, with a pint of Cookie Dough ice cream and her favorite flannel pajamas on, that she realized she had forgotten her coat.

  ****************

  CYNDI

  "What do you mean you just left?" Gooch asked while dunking her fries in mayo.

  Cyndi looked away, the whole idea of fries in mayo made her stomach turn.

  "I mean I just left. There's not a lot of room for interpretation there, right? I picked up my purse and skeedadled. Vamoosed. Jetted. I was gone."

  "And you left your coat," she said between bites of fries.

  "Yep. But I don't need it that bad. I can live without it."

  "No, you shouldn't have to. You're not afraid to go back are you?"

  "No. Well, yes. No. I don't know. Not afraid, embarrassed. I should have stuck around I guess, I mean I could live with being the housecleaner/cook. It's what I do, it's who I am, and I'm proud of the business I've built. But his father trying to buy me out, him trying to buy me out? Yeah, I'm not down with that."

  "Can you explain it to me again," Gooch said as she waved a fry at her.

  "No, and put those down, I can hear your arteries hardening from way over here."

  "My family is very long lived. I'm fine. Now what are we going to do about you?"

  "Me? Nothing. I deleted the app, I'm not dating or Tindering or anything anymore, and he doesn't know how to reach me, so I'm not going to see him again."

  "Unless he comes home early and catches you baking chocolate chip cookies."

  "Well, yeah, there's that. I'm thinking of switching my schedule, I'll do his place in the morning and hers in the afternoon, and he won't come home and catch me that way."

  "Mmmm-hmm, best laid plans sweetie. You really should just call him."

  "If he weren't trying to buy me out, I would. But he's the enemy. I don't want to sell and I can't be cavorting with the enemy. And since I won't sell, he's about to be my competition. I have to make this company work. It's all I have, and I'm not selling. It's mine and they can't have it!"

  "Louder, I don't think they heard you in Egypt."

  Cyndi colored and lowered her voice. I mean it. "He... well his father, but still him too, they're trying to own me one way or the other."

  "Right, but they don't know you are you. They just think you're some random chick."

  "Sure, but they should still be nice to random chicks."

  "Business is business. I heard that somewhere."

  "Right, so I've been told. Here's the thing. Buying me out, or competing against me, I don't want to make any decisions because of him."

  "But you liked him, right?"

  "Yes, of course I liked him, so what?"

  "Well then it seems like you are making a decision."

  "Logic has no place here, Gooch. I have to fly, talk to you later."

  "Mind if I eat these?" she said, indicating Cyndi's fries.

  "Nope, have at them, don't forget the mayo. Freak."

  The next day she put her plan into action and went to the penthouse first to clean, after checking with the doorman to make sure the coast was clear. Today she had coconut chocolate chip cookies. When she entered the penthouse, she thought briefly about looking for her coat, but she didn't want to be accused of stealing.