Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella (10 page)

Up, down. Bending, reaching.

Watching Charlie had been torturous.

And thinking about Charlie and Con, that had been plain old murder. What had Con been doing having lunch with Charlie? Dan had made his feelings clear on the issue of Con getting involved with Charlie.

He’d stewed about Con and Charlie all day at the office, watching her reach and bend. He was thankful work had ended and he was home so he wouldn’t have to think about her anymore.

He poured himself a glass of cola. He’d been drinking the stuff all day. Molly still wasn’t making the coffee and he didn’t want to ask Charlie, so he was sticking to cola and regretting that he had asked Charlie to work on the files.

He didn’t know what else to do with her.

He knew what she wanted him to do with her. And part of him wanted to oblige, but he knew she wasn’t ready for something more. She needed time to recover from her almost-marriage, though she didn’t seem overly broken up about it.

No. He wasn’t going to think about Charlie Eaton anymore. He wasn’t going to think about the fact she was right across the driveway. He wasn’t going to think about the fact she was so very available and apparently so very willing.

She was vulnerable. Suffering, even. On the rebound. Just looking for someone to love.

The doorbell rang. Dan jumped at the sound, forgetting the cola next to his hand. It spilled.

He swore as he grabbed the towel off the handle of the refrigerator and wiped at the puddle on the counter.

The bell rang again.

Dan threw the towel down and marched to the door.

“What?”

Charlie.

Of course it was Charlie. Who else would show up at his door unannounced and uninvited?

“I thought I’d see if you were hungry.” Her smile didn’t dim and she slipped past him into the kitchen.

Dan felt foolish, standing there, holding the door. He shut it. “I’m not hungry.”

Charlie was already peering into his refrigerator. “I am,” she said cheerfully.

Of course she was cheerful. She’d had lunch with Con. What woman wouldn’t be in a good mood after eating with, as Molly would say, Prince Charming?

“I thought you went shopping,” he said, hoping she’d take the hint and leave.

“Why should both of us cook? We both have to eat and it gets lonely eating by myself.”

“How would you know? I don’t think you’ve eaten by yourself since I picked you up.”

“Are you still mad that I had lunch with Con?”

“You’re an employee,” he said. “Shouldn’t you call him Mr. Estoban?”

“I’m your employee too, but I don’t call you Mr. Martin.”

“Maybe you should,” he muttered, though he doubted the formality could erect a big enough wall to protect him from Charlie.

“Why would that be, Dan?”

“Because I don’t think you understand what being an employee means. It means I am the boss. I run things. I tell you what to do and you do it.”

“And what would you like to tell me to do, Mr. Martin?” Hope tinged her tone.

“Go home,” he said, praying she’d listen just this once. He needed her to listen to him, because he could feel his willpower slipping. He wanted her and she’d done everything but strip naked to show him she wanted him as well.

What he didn’t want was the entanglement he was sure would follow.

“I don’t think that’s really what you want to tell me, is it?” She gave up studying the refrigerator and turned to face Dan.

Dan felt like a kitten facing a tiger. “What game are you playing, Charlie?”

“No game, Dan. I’m not very good at games.”

“So what do you want from me?” He busied himself cleaning up the remainder of his spilled soda.

Charlie’s hand laid gently over his, stilling his busy work. “I think you know. I’ve told you. And I want you to be honest with me,” she said softly.

Honest? If Dan were honest, he’d tell his Cinderella just what un-charming fantasies her prince had been having. Fantasies that didn’t involve happily-ever-afters, but merely blissfully-happy-for-the-night.

“When I have been less than honest with you?” he asked, hoping to avoid bursting her fairy-tale bubble.

“Honest?” Her hand brushed his cheek. “Dan, can you honestly tell me you don’t want me?”

“No.” He pulled away from her touch. “But I can tell you that I’m not going to have you.”

She shoved her hands into her pants pockets. “Why? Tell me that much. Why, Dan?”

“We agreed that getting involved wasn’t a good idea.”

“No, you gave me a lot of excuses, but no real reason. And, for the record, Mr. Martin, I never agreed.”

He raked his hand through his hair. Better to mess his hair than to wrap his fingers around Charlie’s shoulder and physically toss her from his house. “Charlie, you’re on the rebound.”

“Nope. Certain things have come to light that make me positive I never loved Winslow.” She didn’t add,
but
I’m pretty certain I could love you . . . maybe I do love you
.

When Dan didn’t say anything else, she turned to leave.

If he’d been smart, Dan would have let her go. But the misery he’d seen flash in those lovely green eyes wouldn’t allow him to be smart. “Charlie?”

She kept walking. Dan reached out and gently grasped her shoulder. “Charlie?”

She faced him then, and he saw how he’d hurt her.

“I’m going, Dan,” she said softly. “I’ll be out of the apartment by the end of the week. You can consider this my official resignation from work. I just want to thank you for everything you did for me.”

She was leaving.

It’s what he wanted, what he’d been trying to get her to do. And yet, the closer she got to the door, the more anxiety raced through Dan’s system. “Don’t go.”

She whirled. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Because I don’t want you to?

Dan couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth. He wanted her to leave. It was wiser for both of them if she did, because if she didn’t . . .

She stood in the doorway, studying him. She did that a lot.

What did she see when she looked at him like that? Dan wanted to ask, just like he wanted to ask her a thousand different questions, but he didn’t know how.

“Stay,” he said, though every instinct said he should let her leave.

“That’s not what you said. You told me you wanted me to go.”

“I lied,” he said simply.

“If you don’t want me to go, what do you want?”

Dan hesitated. He sensed that how he chose to answer the question would be important. But he couldn’t lie to those eyes.

“You,” he whispered.

“Are you sure?”

Dan couldn’t help but smile. Her concern was endearing, but then everything about Charlie was endearing. “I’m very sure, if you are.”

For an answer, she simply placed her hand in his.

Dan scooped her up and took her to his room. He wanted her right there, but she deserved more than some hurried tumble on his kitchen table.

All his reasons for not being with Charlie had fled. All that was left was the sense that this was right—this was meant to be. Gently, he set her on his bed.

They were both adults and they both wanted this.

For him it had gone beyond wanting to needing. He needed Charlie.

He sat down next to her and opened his arms. She moved into his embrace.

And he realized that she fit there perfectly.

As if she were made for him.

The next morning Dan held Charlie, and rather than basking in the feelings of contentment, he felt regret. He liked to think of himself as a man of integrity, but last night didn’t say much for that honor. He’d taken his runaway bride to bed.

No, not
his
.

Charlie was confused, hurt, and vulnerable. She didn’t know what she wanted, because if she did, she’d have realized it wasn’t Dan. What he’d done was take advantage of her confusion. What kind of man was he?

He released her and she snuggled closer to him. It was everything he could do not to wrap her in his arms again. It had felt so right, but Dan knew whatever was happening between them was all wrong.

Dan had grown up on his own, shuffled from home to home. The only people who had ever been a part of his life were his older brother, Mark, and later Con.

Mark had his own family now, living in Houston. So for the most part, there was just Con. Con didn’t place any demands on Dan, on their friendship.

And that’s how Dan liked it. He liked things simple. He liked the status quo. He didn’t need to add a rebounding runaway bride with a nasty mother to his life.

Dan had work he enjoyed, work he excelled at. So what if his life was rather sparse in the people department? He liked it that way. People had a habit of making things messy, of becoming an integral part of your life, then leaving.

Uncomplicated. Unfettered. That’s how Dan lived his life.

Last night was a huge complication, one he would have to rectify this morning. He couldn’t allow Charlie to think this was more than what it was—two people who came together for one brief moment.

His Cinderella insisted on seeing him as her knight in shining armor, some sort of prince at the ball.

Dan knew the truth of it—he was anything but a prince. At the moment he was feeling remarkably frogish.

He felt Charlie stir. She looked at him and smiled before she snuggled closer. “Good morning,” she whispered against his chest.

“Good morning.” What a stupid thing to say.
Get out of my bed, out of my life.
That’s what he should have said.

“Would you like some breakfast?” came her muffled question.

“Are you cooking?”
No.
That’s what he should have said.

Why weren’t the proper words coming out?

“Not yet, but I could be.” Her grin assured him that Charlie wasn’t talking about food.

Deliberately he misunderstood. “I like my eggs over easy.”

“How about your women? I’d go over reeeaaalll,” she drew out the word, “easy.”

“Charlie, we need to talk.” There, that was better, he thought for a split second before he witnessed Charlie’s smile slip a notch. Dan felt the overwhelming urge to grab her and wrap her in his arms and keep her from being hurt, but he didn’t. He couldn’t because he was going to be the one hurting her. He knew that.

Last night he should have let her leave. Oh, she was hurt, but today, when he spelled things out, she was bound to be even more hurt. And he was the one to cause her that pain.

The thought was killing him.

“Okay, so we talk,” she said softly.

“Not now,” he said, a complete coward. “Later. Right now, I’ll shower while you cook. Then after breakfast you can go back to your place and get ready for work and I’ll clean up breakfast dishes.”

“Can we ride together today?”

She expected him to say no, Dan could see it in her eyes, and he wanted to say no, to keep as much distance between them as possible. But, looking in those eyes, at that sad, expectant smile, he found himself shrugging and saying, “Sure.”

Charlie shot him an assessing look.

What did she see when she studied him like that?

Whatever she saw was enough. She whipped back the sheets and stood, looking more glorious in her lack of apparel than she had in her wedding finery that first day. Dan wanted nothing more than to pull her back into bed and keep her there for the rest of the day.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to keep her there the rest of the week. But, though he might be feeling more like a frog than a prince, he wasn’t toadish enough to keep leading her on.

It was time for the clock to strike midnight and for Cinderella to leave the ball.

Yes, he’d drive her to work this one last time. There wouldn’t be a next time. Today was going to be her last day at work, her last day caring about him. One way or another, Dan would see to it.

“Men.” The word sounded more like a curse as Charlie muttered it.

“I hope you mean
man
, specifically Dan, not
men
in general. I don’t think I want to be included in whatever thoughts you’re thinking.” Con stood in the doorway, smiling.

“Sorry.” She peered up from dusty files that were stacked in front of her on the floor. “I should have said,
Dan
.”

“That’s better.” He entered the small storage closet and leaned against a filing cabinet. “So this is where he’s hidden you away today?”

“I’ve finished reorganizing his office files and have been banished to the dungeons, organizing old files.” She blew dust off the top file. “As you can see, there’s an urgent need to have them organized. It’s obvious how often you need them.”

“So, what have you done now to make Dan banish you?”

“Slept with him.” Charlie felt warmth steal into her cheeks. “I mean . . .” She searched for something to say. “Oh, darn. I mean I slept with him and now he apparently can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Dan’s a complicated man.”

“Dan’s a . . . man—period.” She flipped through the pile in her lap and placed the dusty file in the appropriate space.

J for Jenson and for jerk.

“Ah, you’re back to condemning the entire gender.” Con looked more amused than insulted.

Despite her annoyance, Charlie couldn’t help but feel some of her ire slip. “I realize it’s not the gender’s fault that Dan’s a man. It’s that pesky Y chromosome. A friend has a theory. Women have two nice, sturdy X chromosomes. But, men, with that unbalanced Y, they just don’t have a leg to stand on.”

“So, your Prince Charming is tilting off his pedestal?”

“Not just tilting, he’s fallen.”

Charlie grabbed the next file.
Robertson. R for rat.

“Maybe it’s better that he falls now and you wake up to the fact he’s human.”

“Believe me, I realize his humanness all too well.”

Stanley. S for stupid
to believe there was ever a chance for her and Dan.

She slammed it into place. “There’s a lot of time for reflection, down here in the dungeon.”

“Charlotte—”

“Charlie,” she snapped.

She might be practically banished to the bowels of Imperial Shipping, but she still wasn’t going back to her old life. She was Charlie Eaton. She might be down—she glanced around the dusty storeroom—really down, but she wasn’t going to be Charlotte ever again.

“Charlie.” Con crouched, his startling blue eyes holding her gaze. “Dan’s complicated. Believe it or not, I’ve never seen a woman affect him the way you do.”

“So you’re saying he doesn’t lock all his dates in the dungeon?”

“I’m saying I’ve never seen a woman really reach Dan. I’ve never seen
anyone
ever reach Dan. We’re friends, we’re partners, and yet he’s always distant. I know he’d do anything for me, but—”

“Yeah, I know. Dan’s heart is as big as the walls he’s built around it.”

Con nodded. “That’s about it.”

“So what do I do? He’s keeping me at arm’s length. I think he’s already regretting last night.”

“Are you?” Con asked.

“Am I what?”

“Regretting last night?” He paused. “Or are you just using him to salvage your ego? Or is he your rebound fling? Take your pick.”

“No to all of them. I love him, Con.” There. Now she’d said the words out loud. Somehow, saying she loved Dan made the proclamation more real.

“I love him,” she said again. “I know it’s too soon and I know that loving Daniel Martin isn’t easy, but there it is.”

“So why are you down here hiding?” he asked.

“I was banished, remember?”

“Last I checked, I was a partner in this business. I’m officially unbanishing you.” He held out his hand.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Charlie tossed the files onto the floor and took Con’s extended hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Now what?”

“You might want to go wash up.” Con brushed a finger down her cheek. “You look more like a chimney sweep than a . . .”

Charlie laughed at his hesitation. “If you figure out just what my job description is, let me know, because I don’t have a clue either.”

“Go wash up, Charlie. Your prince is waiting, even if he doesn’t know it.”

Charlie kissed Con’s cheek and smiled at the dusty imprint she left. Now if only she could find a way to imprint herself on Dan’s heart as easily.

“My place or yours?” Unable to come up with a plan, Charlie decided to simply ignore the fact that Dan was avoiding her. Even after she’d emerged from the hole he’d sentenced her to, he’d simply grunted and left her to Molly’s devices.

He might be able to hide away from her in his office from nine to five, but there was no way he could escape as they sat in his truck. Of course, even though he couldn’t escape, she hadn’t been able to pull more than monosyllabic responses out of him the entire drive home, so as they pulled into his driveway, she made a desperate move.