Surprise Reunion with His Cinderella

by Rachael Stewart

  ‘Okay.’ Discreetly, he shook off the chill. ‘I’ll start. We’re both from Edinburgh.’

  She laughed again, the sound just as tantalising, just as addictive, and he wanted to coax out more—more smiles, more lightness.

  ‘We’re the same age,’ she fired back.

  ‘You’re older.’

  ‘Hardly.’ She shifted in her seat, sat straighter. ‘There’s two months between us!’

  And there was that laugh again. It made his body warm from the inside out, an experience he rarely, if ever, felt these days. Her laugh tapered off as her lashes lowered to where his fingers toyed with the base of his wine glass. ‘I wanted someone skilled with their hands.’

  The husky edge to her voice set his blood on fire and he gave a soft chuckle. ‘How forward.’

  Her eyes snapped to his. ‘Not like that.’

  His lips twitched. ‘No?’

  ‘No! I meant...you know, creative, arty. I like the thought that goes into bending over a canvas or a potter’s wheel—’

  ‘Or a workbench?’

  ‘You still carve?’

  A smile touched his lips. ‘When I can. Not that I have much time for it these days. Still paint?’

  She mimicked his smile. ‘When I can. Like you, life has a habit of getting in the way.’

  ‘Other hobbies?’

  ‘I hike on the weekends, run in the week.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘You hike?’ She looked surprised and quite rightly so.

  ‘Less of the hiking, more of the running. I spend so much time sitting at a laptop or in meetings, getting fresh air when I can escape is important to me.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘You hated running when we were kids. You’d never come with me.’

  She laughed. ‘That’s because back then you’d run on a Sunday morning when Maggie was doing her big baking session, and getting first dibs on her shortbread was far more important.’

  ‘Aah, yes, so true.’

  ‘Plus, it gave me some peace and quiet to read.’

  He grinned. ‘Still a romance lover?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Still after your own happy ever after?’

  Her hand stilled as she reached for her wine glass, her eyes hesitant. ‘Isn’t that why we’re here?’

  ‘No,’ he bit out, his defences rebuilding so fast he felt something akin to whiplash. ‘I’ve told you why I’m here. I have no intention of marrying and you claim you’re here because of your friends, but there was a time...’ He eyed her left hand, the finger that had once borne not only his ring but another man’s. ‘What happened between you and Tim?’

  She straightened up, forgetting her wine entirely as she swallowed and eyed him carefully. ‘Tim? How did you...?’

  The warning bells chimed. He’d given far too much away. Revealing that he knew of her life after him revealed that he’d cared enough to find out. It was stupid, but he could hardly take it back. Seeing her announcement on social media, the happy couple with the hand bearing the ring on show, had been a turning point for him. A reason to look to the future and to accept that she would never be a part of it.

  ‘I used to keep tabs on you.’

  ‘You kept tabs on me?’

  ‘What?’ He shrugged. ‘You never looked me up in this day and age where everyone’s business is everybody’s thanks to the wonder that is social media?’

  ‘But you’re not even on...’ She broke off, her cheeks flushing anew. ‘Okay, so, yes, I did search for you. But other than the great strides you’ve made with your charity, your business, which I know has nothing to do with your family and everything to do with you, you’re a mystery.’

  ‘My sister more than makes up for my lack of presence in the media—social or otherwise. She’s been adept at courting the media ever since she could talk.’

  Her smile was slow but filled with affection now. It caught at him even as he acknowledged it wasn’t directed at him but his sister.

  ‘How is Ally?’

  ‘Now that you must know already.’

  She picked up her cutlery, tasted a morsel. ‘I’m sure the media don’t give the whole truth, though.’

  ‘In this case, they’ve not gone far wrong. She’s well, she’s happy and she keeps them away from me, which is just the way I like it.’

  Her smile was one of understanding. ‘I read she was expecting her second child.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘So, how does it feel, being an uncle?’

  His chest warmed, masking the pang that lay beneath. He was happy for his sister, the marriage she’d been steered towards had been good for her—she’d found love and happiness and in turn had made their parents happy too. ‘Much the same. Though it’s had me coming home more.’

  She seemed to struggle with the portion of food she had taken, swallowing and chasing it down with more wine. ‘It has?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded, trying to understand her reaction. ‘I always intended to return eventually.’

  ‘Permanently?’ It virtually squeaked out of her.

  ‘Yes. I couldn’t stay away for ever. My parents are getting older, the estate still needs managing and though Rupert does an excellent job, he too is getting on.’

  ‘So...the prodigal son returns?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  She considered him for a long moment. ‘Well, there’s another tick in M’s box.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Edinburgh. It’s not just where we’re from...’ She placed her cutlery together on her plate, signifying she was done, and sat back in her seat, taking her wine with her. ‘I take it you mentioned your intention to set up more of a base there in your talk with Madison?’

  He frowned, thinking back over his conversation. ‘I did. But I thought... Are you saying you live in Edinburgh now? I thought you moved away.’

  ‘I did. I left to study at Warwick University, then moved to London, but my heart was always in Edinburgh. When Mum got sick...’

  She stopped, her eyes glistening as she looked away and her hand went to her locket—her mum, that was who was inside it, he should have guessed. And now he felt like an insensitive buffoon for leading them down this path.

  ‘I was sorry to learn of your mum’s passing, Jas,’ he said softly, hoping that she would believe him and take the apology for what it was, sincere and heartfelt, regardless of their history. ‘I wanted to pay my respects and come to the funeral, but...well, by then you had Tim and had obviously moved on. I didn’t want to tread on anyone’s toes, or...’ He waved a hand as words failed him.

  ‘You should have come.’

  Her ardent declaration surprised him. ‘Why?’

  ‘Mum would have liked it, she always thought highly of you.’

  ‘That wasn’t the impression she ever gave me.’ He frowned. ‘Or you.’

  ‘She just wanted her only child to be happy. She wanted to protect me.’

  ‘And she didn’t feel I could do that? I would have done everything in my power to make you happy. Protected you, doted on you, loved you.’ He could feel his voice vibrate with vehemence, but this was ancient history, he shouldn’t care as deeply as he so obviously did. It shook him up just as much as it so obviously did her. Her eyes were wide, her body still.

  ‘I know you would have,’ she said quietly. ‘But it wasn’t about you, it was about the situation we were in.’

  ‘It was about my family.’ He threw it at her, condemning her, because it didn’t matter that her reasons had centred on his family. At the end of the day she was the one who had walked. She was the one who hadn’t had faith in him to make it work.

  Ten years it had been, and he remembered it like yesterday. The moment he’d turned to her in the great hall, the glass of champagne clutched so tight
ly in his hand he’d been surprised it hadn’t snapped.

  ‘I can’t do this, Freddie,’ she had pleaded, avoiding the eyes of his disapproving parents beside him, her hand squeezing his as she’d tried to tug him out of centre stage.

  ‘At least one of you is talking sense, son,’ his father had said, uncaring of their audience as his mother had given a high-pitched laugh.

  ‘Yes, dear, you can be so fantastical at times.’

  ‘Fantastical,’ he had thrown back at them. ‘I’m being nothing of the sort. We’re in love and we’re getting married, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘Quieten down,’ his father had warned through gritted teeth, forcing a smile as he’d waved down their growing audience. ‘Do you really want to turn this family into a laughingstock?’

  His mother had turned to his father then, her hand gentle on his chest. ‘Easy, Alan...’

  ‘Freddie.’ Jasmine had tugged on his hand. ‘Freddie!’

  He’d seen Jasmine’s mother amongst the stunned audience, her face ashen, her panicked, fearful eyes on her daughter. How could she not have known that he would love Jasmine for the rest of his days?

  He’d smiled then, determined to show them all as he’d raised his glass to the room. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to—’ Her hand had slipped from his, killing off his words. She was running away, pushing through the people, her body and head shaking.

  ‘Jas!’ He’d run after her, through the double doors, the hall, out into the night.

  He’d caught up with her on the stone entrance steps. Fairy lights had adorned the trees and the topiary cones, the festive warmth all the more jarring for her—she’d been ghostlike, her harried breath billowing in the frosty night air as she’d spun to face him.

  ‘Just let me go, Freddie,’ she’d begged. ‘This will never work. You belong here, I don’t. Listen to your parents, they’re right.’

  ‘No, Red.’ He’d tried to reach for her, but she’d backed away, tugging his ring from her finger, and when he’d refused to take it, she’d placed it on the ground between them.

  ‘I won’t give up on us,’ he’d told her.

  ‘You have to.’ She’d stared up at him, green eyes wide. ‘I can’t do this, it’s over.’

  ‘I think you’d best leave her.’ Jasmine’s mother had appeared, her hand soft on his shoulder, and he’d gaped at her, his head shaking.

  ‘But I love her.’

  ‘I can’t love you, Freddie,’ Jas had thrown at him. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘But you do!’

  She hadn’t answered, only turned away and run, her mother hot on her tail. She hadn’t given him a chance to talk her round, to hold her, to reassure her.

  ‘Freddie?’ Jasmine reached across the table, jarring him back to the present and the stinging sensation in his tightly clenched fist as she covered it with her palm. ‘It doesn’t help, raking over old ground.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t.’ He unclenched his hand and pulled it away from her, flexing his fingers to ease the damage his nails had done, not to mention her touch... ‘Your mother was the final straw, though. She took you away, she helped convince you I wasn’t good enough.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, her lonely hand going to her wine glass instead, and he wondered if it was her way of hiding how his physical withdrawal hurt. He hoped so.

  ‘All my mother did was tell me everything I already knew. That your family were powerful, influential, and they had their hopes pinned on a high-profile marriage and no matter how much I loved you, I would never be good enough in their eyes. In the eyes of their peers. And that, eventually, it would wear me down.’

  ‘And I would have picked you right back up again.’ Why was he even fighting this out now? It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything.

  ‘It wasn’t that simple, and you know it. You love your family and I couldn’t bear to come between you.’

  ‘That was for me to decide, not you.’ And there he went again, fighting her on something that should be ancient history. Only now they were together again, airing an age-old argument they’d never had the opportunity to have.

  She dragged in a breath, the mood at the table turning dark, haunted by the past, shaken up by the future and the possibility of seven days without the outside world interfering.

  ‘I don’t want to argue about this.’ She set her wine glass down again, crossed her arms.

  ‘Neither do I.’

  ‘You were the one who said to forget the past, to focus on this week and forget everything else. And yet here we are, focusing on the past.’

  Movement off to the right caught his eye. Monique was returning and he sent her a smile before looking back to Jasmine.

  ‘You’re right.’ She was. And yet still the questions burned through him, demanding answers, demanding closure after so many years. ‘Saved by the next course.’

  She turned to smile at Monique, her eyes lighting up her face and sucking the very breath from him.

  He should have taken the option to jump when she’d given it. Because one thing was for sure, he wasn’t as over the past as he’d like to be and what that meant for the next seven days, he didn’t know...

  But there was no avoiding it. He wasn’t running like she once had.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘SO, YOU LIVE in Edinburgh now?’

  Freddie waited for Monique to leave before asking the question and the bubble of relief Jasmine had felt at moving on from the past burst. Because Edinburgh was their past. And her future.

  His, too, it now seemed.

  She nodded as her stomach turned over and she looked at her plate. The arrangement of food seemed too pretty to eat, she only wished she had the appetite to fully appreciate it.

  Living in the same city. No ocean separating them. It was too close. Much too close.

  She scooped up some potato confit and popped it in her mouth, her eyes returning to his, and she realised he was waiting for her to expand on the nod. She swallowed, the smooth, creamy potato going down like a boulder.

  ‘I lived with Mum quite a bit towards the end,’ she admitted, pain mixing in with the unease. ‘And afterwards, when Tim and I split up, I moved back permanently.’

  He was concentrating on his plate, dicing up his food. ‘He was one of your lecturers at university, wasn’t he?’

  She dropped her cutlery with a clatter and his eyes lifted to hers with a frown.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a negative way.’

  ‘Then why say it at all?’ she threw at him. She’d hated that judgement back then and she hated it all the more coming from him now.

  ‘I was...making conversation.’

  ‘Would you like me to quiz you on your exes?’

  ‘Hey, I’m sorry.’ He lowered his cutlery and gave her his full attention. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just stating a fact.’

  ‘Yes, well, it wasn’t like that.’ She couldn’t calm her voice, or her pulse that raced with the frustrating need to explain herself—she didn’t owe him an explanation, yet there she was giving it anyway. ‘We didn’t date until I graduated. He—he was involved in the launch of my company. He believed in me, gave me the confidence to go after my dreams, helped me secure funding. He was a good man.’

  ‘He was twice your age.’ His jaw twitched and she got the impression he was as annoyed with himself for saying it as she was hearing it.

  ‘And? We cared for one another, we shared the same interests, and he was passionate about my business venture.’

  ‘As well he should be...’ His eyes softened, his mood changing so swiftly she was caught off guard. ‘It was a great idea, Jas. Aspirational. Innovative. It had such potential and, of course, it succeeded. I mean, look at you now. I don’t know much about your business in recent years, but it’s clearly doing well if you can a
fford the services of M.’

  Her chest bloomed with pride, her mouth twitching into a smile she wasn’t quite ready to give.

  ‘Yes, it’s doing well.’

  ‘So, what happened with Tim?’

  ‘Seriously, Freddie?’

  ‘What?’ His eyes widened into hers. ‘You can’t blame me for being curious. The last I knew you were engaged and I...’ He shrugged. ‘I stopped looking.’

  He stopped looking...

  She let the confession swirl around her brain, around her heart, her quick-fire anger dissipating in an instant.

  ‘Why were you looking?’

  ‘You really need to ask me that?’

  ‘Okay, why did you stop looking?’

  ‘And I repeat, you really need to ask me that?’

  He looked away and reached for his glass, but she could see the haunted look in his eyes, could see his answer even if he wouldn’t put words to it.

  ‘Tim and I broke up because...’

  She stopped. How could she tell him the truth? That on her sick bed her mother had told her not to go through with the marriage, told her it wasn’t true love, not like the love that she had shared with Freddie. That if Jasmine searched her heart well enough, she’d know it too. That she was sorry she hadn’t backed them all those years ago...

  No, she couldn’t tell him that.

  He sipped at his wine, watched her over the rim of the glass. ‘You broke up because...?’

  ‘Because he felt I was married to my job.’ It was close enough to the truth.

  His lips quirked, his eyes suddenly shone. ‘Now, on that I’ll raise my glass to you, because there we are one and the same.’

  ‘You too?’

  ‘Haven’t I already said I don’t have time for a relationship? It wasn’t some throwaway remark, it’s something that’s been proved many times over by the women I date. They get needy, I cut the ties.’

  ‘How very caring of you.’

  ‘Quit the judgement, Jas. I’m always honest and open, maybe brutal at times, but it’s as much for their benefit as it is mine.’

  ‘And you’re happy living like that?’

  ‘What? Single?’