15 Shades Of Pink

by Scott, Lisa

  “Well, thanks for the warning.”

  She nodded, like she’d performed some important civic duty.

  “But, I like Summer.”

  And didn’t my insides whirl at that news? But, he was probably just trying to keep her and her martinis at bay, I reminded myself. I’d figured all along I was his buffer girl, but for the first time, it bothered me.

  I cleared my throat and walked out from behind the grass. “I think I’m ready to leave,” I said, jerking my thumb toward my house.

  Sarah clutched his arm. “But you don’t have to go, Jay.”

  “I should see her home.”

  “She lives across the street.” She wasn’t letting go of him.

  “I’m fine. And I still have time to go into town.” And before he had a chance to dislodge himself, I crossed the street, got in my car and drove away.

  ***

  Dell had asked me if I could work Sunday since things had been so busy lately. We had a line of people waiting for the Clams Casino ice cream they’d heard about, and lots were trying the batch of Lobster and Butter, too. It was a good distraction from wondering how Jay’s night had been. I needed to stuff away this silly infatuation and get on with figuring things out. I’d decided after talking to Beth that I was going to stay on the Cape past the summer to try to help Dell make a go of it year-round. I had more ideas to put Scoopy’s on the map, and I knew my friend would let me stay in her house a while longer. If not, I’d find a place to rent.

  Maybe marketing would be my new calling with the way things were going. Already, we had several artists displaying their work, including a lovely senior, Mary Andrews, who’d sold a few pieces. Seeing how tickled she’d been when I handed her a check for the sales really felt good. The changes at Scoopy’s were helping more than just Dell. And it was doing wonders for my self-esteem, as well. It was a good place to be.

  I was busy cleaning up after a huge lunch rush when I heard Jay’s voice. “Got any left for me?”

  I looked up at him. “Any what?”

  “Of your time. Why’d you take off last night? I couldn’t exactly shake Sarah off me. She was holding on tight, and you’re right, she does have claws.” He pretended to inspect his arm for marks.

  Wiping down the counter, I sighed. “I don’t want to be your decoy girlfriend to keep the other girls away. And besides, you’re leaving soon and I’ve decided to stay on the Cape and help Dell.”

  He grinned. “Cool. Maybe I’ll stay down here longer, too. I don’t have any other plans. Except you, Summer.”

  I turned around, pretending to look for more paper towels, because I just knew I was blushing.

  “And I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  “Staying on the Cape is surprise enough.”

  “Something even better.”

  I doubt that.

  One corner of his mouth curled up. “Can I bring it in?”

  Now I was worried. “Okay…”

  He went back outside and waved someone in. “I was thinking about everything you’ve been doing to help Dell, and tried to think what I could do.”

  “Besides hosting the kite day and lending your name to the event?”

  He nodded. “I called a friend who knows someone at the Food Network, and they went crazy when they heard about the Clams Casino ice cream.”

  That’s when a TV host I’d seen before came in, followed by a cameraman and someone with a bunch of lights and cords.

  I blinked back tears and set my hand on my throat. “This will change everything, Jay.”

  His voice softened and he put his hands on my arms. “Good. Maybe we can get her on her feet this summer, and then you can come back with me in the fall.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but he covered it with a finger. “Just toss that in the crazy stew of ideas in your head.”

  Jay introduced us to the crew, and I called Dell out. She actually sat down and started fanning herself she was so shocked.

  The crew started setting up to interview us both. In the midst of all this, customers started piling in. A guy and a girl holding hands wandered over to the ice cream display.

  “What flavor do you want, Natalie?” her boyfriend asked.

  “I want to try that Clams Casino I heard about.” She looked up at me and smiled. “Unless you have crab cake ice cream. Connor and I would love that.”

  I widened my eyes. “Great idea! That will be next week’s Scoopy’s Kooky flavor.”

  “Awesome! We’ll come back for that. But I’ll take the Clams Casino ice cream now. Just one scoop.”

  I served it up and watched them share the small portion at a nearby table. Seeing a couple so in love made my chest tighten. I hadn’t really had that with Vince. I’d wanted it. I’d done everything I could to try to make it happen. But it didn’t.

  I looked at Jay, chatting with a few fans while signing their Celtics ball caps. I hadn’t done a darn thing to get him to like me—but he did. He liked me for who I really was. Why wouldn’t I give him a chance? Looking around the busy diner, I laughed to myself. I was doing everything to turn around Dell’s place, but nothing to help turn things around for me.

  I smiled at him and he caught my eye. He must have known from the expression on my face that something had changed. He finished up with the fans and came over with a questioning look.

  I shrugged. “Let’s give it a try. I never would have guessed that clams and ice cream would’ve worked but they did. Who knows?”

  He grabbed my hands and kissed me. “We’ll be just as good, I know it.”

  The door swung open and I wondered how we’d keep up with the rush. We’d have to hire more people. Then I did a double-take. “I know that guy,” I said.

  Jay clenched his fists. “It’s not your ex, is it?”

  “No, it's...Michael Sullivan, the actor! That’s right, he almost drowned on the beach this summer.”My mind started spinning and I snapped my fingers. “Hey, Michael!” I waved to him. “Come on over for a life preserver sundae on the house.”

  Michael and the girl with him laughed, while Jay looked at me. “What’s that?”

  “Shh. I just made it up. Vanilla ice cream with whipped cream and pineapple rings.”

  Jay nodded, impressed. “Good one.”

  Michael came over and I insisted on getting a picture of him with Dell. I decided I’d be adding a collection of celebrity photos and their favorite dishes to the front wall. Then I took one of her and the guy from the Food Network.

  A guy and a girl pushed through the front door with big cardboard boxes and carried them up to the counter. “We’ve got more Port-A-Party hats for you.”

  I pulled out a stack and set them next to the register. “Good, those have been selling great.” Dell would definitely need me to stay. Things around here were really hopping.

  The guy with the hats jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Did you know you’ve got a Back-bellied Plover nesting out front?”

  The woman with him rolled her eyes. “It’s probably just a crow.”

  “Watch it, or I won’t share my sundae.” He nudged her with his elbow and she giggled.

  The Food Network guy picked up one of the orange hats by the register, turning it round to inspect it. “What’s this?”

  “The Port-A-Party Hat,” I told him. “It’s got pockets and slots and things to load up your hat with party goods—”

  “To take the party with you! Genius.” He slid it on his head. “This is totally going in the story. I hope this guy is well stocked. These are going to sell like hotcakes. When we featured the Snack-n-Go Vest, they sold out in a day.”

  The couple that brought them in slapped hands in a high-five. “My dad is going to flip!” said the woman. “Maybe he can stop working on those self-cleaning sneakers now.” She waved her hand in front of her nose. “The stink follows him everywhere.”

  Mr. Food Network smoothed his tie, which didn’t exactly match the hat. “You guys ready for your interview?” he as
ked me.

  “Do Dell, first. I have to go outside and talk to Jay.” I had reached for his hand and pulled him outside, when I noticed two women crouched down, peeking in the front windows.

  One woman cupped her hands around her eyes for a better look inside. “This is just like Stake Out,” she whispered.

  Her friend bit her lip. “Not exactly.”

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  They stood up and brushed off their skirts. “Oh, we’re fine. Say, is that Michael Sullivan in there?”

  I couldn’t help butgh look at her feet, absolutely squashed into a pair of cute red sandals. “Yes, why?” I asked.

  The one woman blushed. “We kind of owe him an apology.”

  “Brooke almost killed him,” the woman next to her said, “Like Weekend at Bernie’s or something.”

  “Monica! It’s not at all like that. And you were there too!” They continued arguing as they went into the diner.

  Laughing, Jay put his arms around me. “Now, quick, what did you want to tell me—before someone else shows up?”

  I stretched up on my tiptoes and kissed him, long and hard, with the promise of more to come.

  “What was that for?” He took my hands in his.

  “To thank you. For believing in the diner. And for believing in me.”

  “Imagine that, two of my favorite things together. Even better than your ice cream.” He kissed me again. “And I believe in us, too. Now get back in there, you’ve got an interview to do. And afterward, we have some unfinished business in the hot tub.”

  Giggling, I pulled him into the restaurant behind me, wondering how I had started out the summer with nothing, and ended up with everything.

  Fairy Tale Flirts

  5 Romantic Short Stories

  By Lisa Scott

  Copyright © 2012 Lisa Scott Macdonough

  Table of Contents

  Cindi

  Red

  Belle

  Snow

  Goldie

  Cindi

  Cindi Midas could still smell bleach and latex on her hands as she rode the elevator to her apartment. Coming home to posh Grimm Towers from her early morning cleaning job at the Castle Hotel was always embarrassing. Most people probably assumed she was the hired help as she rode the ornate elevator to the 55th floor where she lived with her stepmother. But since she didn’t pay Cindi for cleaning their apartment, technically, she wasn’t the hired help; she was the free-room-and-board help. Luckily, Cindi was a horrible cook or her stepmother would probably have her doing that, too.

  It was just before noon and she let herself in the door, desperate for a shower and a change of clothes. Once she got her party planning business off the ground, she’d burn her pale pink polyester uniform and move out. She kicked off her shoes and wandered into the kitchen.

  Her stepmother and stepsister sat at the table, the chandelier twinkling overhead. “Sorry, Cindi. You missed breakfast,” her stepsister, Gloria, said, shoving a croissant in her mouth.

  “I ate when I got up at four this morning.” She opened the fridge and grabbed a yogurt. “This is lunch.”

  Her stepmother, Hildy, splayed three golden tickets in her hand at the table. “Forget food, look what Mother got! I’ve been waiting until you got home, Cindi.”

  Cindi dropped her spoon. “Impossible,” she whispered, while Gloria clapped and rushed over to hug her mother.

  Once the shock wore off, Cindi practically squealed. “I can’t believe we’re going to the Jiminy Shoe trunk sale today!” Maybe wishes really do come true, she thought, fully aware it was a shallow-as-a-puddle wish, but damn it, she was meant to live in designer wear. Her christening gown had been couture from the looks of the pictures in her old photo album. But that was then. Long before Hildy wriggled her way into her father’s life.

  However, Cindi could find some forgiveness in her heart with one of those tickets. The Jiminy Shoe trunk sale was the most exclusive sale in New Royalton and she’d never been to it. Sure, she’d dreamed of going, making lists in her head of all the shoes she’d buy if she won the lottery; or if her father had set up a trust fund for her instead of leaving it all to her stepmother.

  Oh, she had real, responsible dreams, too: a successful party planning business, moving out, and finding love someday. But her shallow, greedy dreams glittered with the latest shoes and clothes and cosmetics. A pair of Jiminy Shoes was at the top of her list. Every self-respecting twenty-something-fashionista-wanna-be deserved a pair. And for a moment, while wearing those shoes, maybe she could imagine the life she would have led if her parents hadn’t died. Surely, they would have bought her Jiminies.

  Gloria had given her a hand-me-down pair that didn’t fit her. Cindi kept them on a shelf in her bedroom because she enjoyed looking at them, and occasionally stroking the luscious, buttery leather. Finally, she’d have a pair of her own. Luckily, she had a few hundred dollars saved. She practically purred like a cat licking its chops before devouring a plate of tuna.

  Her stepmother blinked at her. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Cindi. You misunderstood. I’m not bringing you.”

  Her stomach tumbled. “But you waited to tell me. And you have three tickets.” She held up three fingers to make it clear.

  Hildy blinked and smiled. “Yes, I wanted to share the news with you. But I had to beg for these tickets so I could take my daughters.”

  Knowing she didn’t count as one of the daughters, Cindi fought back the tears. “Veronica’s going? I thought you disowned her.”

  Her stepmother scrunched up her carefully sculpted nose that had taken four trips to the plastic surgeon to perfect. “Oh, that was just my temper talking when she refused to follow my plans for her future. She’ll see the light soon enough, but she’s not going today.” Hildy shrugged. “I merely told the organizers it was for her, but I’m giving it to Kate Robinson.” She snarled as she said her name.

  “The lady down the hall? You don’t even like her. You tried to kill her dog.”

  “That was an accident and no one can prove otherwise,” her stepmother said in a sing-song-I’m-lying-voice.

  It was humiliating, but Cindi made a pathetic pleading gesture with her hands. “Please? You know how much I love Jiminies. I’m sure you could help me find the perfect pair. I could never be as skinny and pretty as you, but maybe I could have shoes as nice as yours.” After her father had died, any niceties her stepmother had shown Cindi had disappeared. But she’d learned that sometimes begging worked, just so long as loads of flattery—no matter how farfetched—was involved.

  Her stepmother put her hands on her hips; Cindi recognized her lecture mode when she saw it. “Mrs. Robinson thinks I owe her a thousand dollars to cover the vet bills for stepping on that walking wig she calls a dog.” She sighed dramatically. “Since these are priceless tickets, we should be even now. Really, that woman.” She shrugged. “Sorry, you’ll have to get your own ticket.”

  “But there are only two hundred! And you have to know someone to get in.” She hadn’t whined like this since she was ten and wanted a pony. And she’d gotten one. They’d kept it stabled just outside the city. It was the first thing her stepmother had gotten rid of after Father died.

  Hildy grinned like she was downing a glass of bad lemonade. “True. And you don’t know anyone, do you? Besides, I don’t trust that you could compose yourself at an event like that. You’d probably embarrass me. You’ll have a nice quiet day at home. Perhaps you can organize Gloria’s closet like you promised.”

  That had been a joke, although Gloria’s closet did look like the aftermath of a home invasion. But some cleaners didn’t do bathrooms, others didn’t do closets. Cindi fell in the latter group. She rested her chin in her hand, feeling like a chastised child left sulking at the table.

  Her stepsister gloated. “We’ll be back later. In fabulous new shoes!”

  They left the apartment in a swirl of perfume and giggles. Cindi walked into the living room and slumped on the cou
ch. She looked down at her bare feet, her toenails painted with a French manicure she’d done herself. Nope, no spa visits for her either. She blinked back the final tears she was going to let fall over this. Not everyone is destined for fabulous footwear. But someday, I’ll have great shoes.

  After allowing herself to pout for a few more minutes, she jumped in the shower, changed, then pulled out her laptop and looked for potential party clients. While her stepmother insisted her daughters look for rich husbands instead of work—something Veronica had ignored at first—her stepmother didn’t expect Cindi to land a wealthy man. “I know you’ll have to support yourself,” she’d told her.

  But Cindi wanted to work. Relying on Daddy to cater to her every whim had worked for twelve years. She’d been spoiled and that had taken a long time to get over once he was gone. She’d never be dependent on a man again. Didn’t matter if she married a millionaire, she had hopes and dreams and visions for the future. She just wasn’t entirely certain what they were.

  Hopefully, party planning was her calling. She’d always envisioned herself attending fancy charity balls and events. At age twenty-four, she’d already tried waitressing and retail along with the cleaning job. None of them had been the right fit.

  She started compiling her daily list of ten businesses to contact about her party planning services. Clearly, she was very skilled at making lists, but no one hired you to do that. She’d been making ten new contacts a day, and had landed half a dozen event-planning jobs that way. But it still wasn’t enough money for her to move out of Grimm Towers.

  The doorbell rang and she set down her computer, ran to the door and peeked through the peephole. It was Mrs. Robinson from down the hall. She opened the door. “Hi Mrs. Robinson what can I do for you?” Her fluffy little brown dog sat at her feet. What was it, a Poo-hau-hau? A Shitz-aranian? Maybe she could be a designer dog breeder if the party planning didn’t work out.

  Mrs. Robinson held up a golden ticket. “Your stepmother left this with a note under my door. She thinks a ticket to the Jiminy Shoes trunk sale is suitable payment for Cricket’s vet bills. Totally unacceptable. I expect her to pay me. This ticket is the last thing I need. Give it back and tell her to use it instead.” She handed it to Cindi.