Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella (7 page)

“Dan, you’re home.” A sense of relief swept through Charlie.

“We have company?” Dan surveyed the scene as he walked toward Charlie. She looked happy to see him.

He eyed the man she had been talking to. This had to be Winslow. His very bearing, the way he stepped closer to Charlie as if he had some claim on her, screamed his Winslow-ness.

Dan loathed the man on sight.

“Not really company. An unwanted guest.”

“Who is this, Charlotte?” Winslow said in a very nasally voice.

Fop.

Dan wasn’t sure why he thought of that word, but it suited the man. Puffed up with his own importance, condescending to anyone he considered beneath him, which was most of the population, Dan was sure. What on earth had Charlie been thinking?

“I’m—”

“My lover,” Charlie blurted out.

CHAPTER FIVE

“What?” The fop looked ready to collapse.

Dan wanted to echo Winslow’s
what
, but he held his tongue, anxious to see just where Charlie was going to take this.

“Yes. Winslow, my ex-fiancé, this is Dan, my current lover. You see, Winslow, I left the church with nothing more than a wedding dress. You had all my clothes and I’d sold everything else. So I decided to become a kept woman. That’s all you saw me as, a kept woman with a marriage certificate. Dan’s more honest about it, that’s all. He lent me the money to start over and he got me a job at the company he works at. In return, I’m warming his bed. Right, Dan?”

There was no way Dan could refuse her, even if it meant going along with her absurd lie.

“Sure. Charlie’s the best. A woman of her talent is cheap at twice the cost.”

“Really?” She looked as if he’d just paid her the highest of compliments. “I’m so glad you think so. I do so want to please you in every way.”

Winslow the dandy—another handy, infrequently used word that Dan thought fit the fop to a tee—edged closer to Charlie. “Charlotte, that will be enough of this charade. Get in the car, and I’ll take you to your mother’s, where you’ll stay until the wedding.”

Dan’s arm reached out and circled Charlie’s waist of its own volition. He was only playing the role she’d cast him in. The fact that he enjoyed holding her had nothing to do with it.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Look at all these bags. I’m a workingman and I don’t think Charlie’s shopping trip came cheap. She’s going to have months of work to pay this off.”

“Work at the company or work in your bed?” Charlie asked innocently.

The innocent tone was at odds with the devil that twinkled in those green eyes.

“Both.”

His arms snaked a little lower and cupped her buttocks.

“Oh,” Charlie squealed.

“Get your hands off her.” Winslow took off his designer jacket and actually started to roll up his sleeves.

“I don’t think so. Charlie likes my hands, don’t you, baby?”

“Oh, Dan. Maybe I should just leave all these clothes out here. Goodness knows with the way you’re touching me, I won’t have any need of clothes for the rest of the night.”

She picked up a couple of bags, tossed them back in the car, and slammed the car door shut. “Good-bye, Winslow. If you wouldn’t mind getting my luggage out of your trunk and leaving it next to the car, I’d appreciate it.”

“Charlotte. I know I hurt you when I said I didn’t love you, but that doesn’t mean we can’t build a good life together. Trying to make me jealous with the likes of him? A truck driver? I don’t think you could sink much lower. Now, get in the car.”

“Good-bye, Winslow,” Dan said. He took Charlie’s hand and led her toward his house, not Doug’s apartment. “Come on, honey, these hands are itching to . . .” He leaned close and whispered, “Giggle. It will drive him nuts.”

Charlie complied and tried to recapture her teenage days—days when anything in the world was possible, when she believed the world was fair. A laugh from the days when she truly believed someday she’d find someone to love her for herself.

Neither Dan nor Charlie turned around when they heard the thud of something being thrown, followed by a trunk being shut, then a car door being slammed.

The Porsche’s engine revved a moment before it gunned out of the driveway.

Charlie didn’t move from Dan’s arms until Winslow’s car had disappeared from sight. When she did slip out of his grasp, Dan missed her presence immediately.

“That was interesting,” she said.

Interesting wasn’t the word Dan would have used to describe their little game. His body ached, even though he’d known the entire thing was an act—just an act. His hands itched to continue exploring Charlie’s body, and his lips were begging to help.

He opened the door to the kitchen and used the motion as a means to put more distance between the two of them. He gestured at a kitchen chair and realized she’d said something and was waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded and moved to the only other chair. He wished it were at the other end of the table, not kitty-corner to hers. But there was no hope for it. He couldn’t move it, no matter how much he needed to keep some distance between them.

“I said, do you think it would be possible to really get a job at Imperial? I could do filing, or even ride along with you on your runs, if they’d allow it.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Why what?”

Slowly, as if talking to a child, he said, “Why would you want to work at Imperial?”

“I need a job. Like I said, I quit mine a couple weeks ago. I planned to be on my honeymoon with Winslow right now. But I’m not and I need a job.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? Maybe you should call your boss and check.”

“Charlie, there’s something I should have told you sooner.”

She studied him, suspicion radiating like an aura from every pore of her body. “What?”

“I don’t have to ask anyone.”

The suspicion melted away and she smiled. “Of course you do. I know that you can’t just go around hiring people off the street, especially without talking to your boss.”

“How would hiring someone off the street be different than picking someone up off the street?”

“That’s different. You could get in trouble just giving me a job without asking anyone.”

“And I couldn’t get in trouble picking up a hitchhiker?”

“Dan, I wasn’t exactly armed.”

“Who knew what you had stuffed in the gown?” Thinking of what was stuffed in that gown made him suddenly very, very hot. He rearranged the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers, needing to keep his hands busy with anything that wasn’t Charlie Eaton.

“I told you, what I had under that gown didn’t even qualify as underwear. It was basically lace, held together with a wing and a prayer.”

The idea of winged lace didn’t do anything to cool the heat coursing through Dan’s system. Enough of this silly verbal sparring. Charlie had said she wanted nothing to do with men—especially rich men or men who wanted to be rich. Telling her the truth was a sure way to put some distance between them. And distance was what he needed right now. “I said you can have a job, and you can.”

“And I said call your boss. I’m not going to just show up tomorrow and say, ‘
Hi, I’m Charlie. I’m the reason Dan skipped out of work yesterday and, oh, by the way, he promised me a job, but he doesn’t even know what kind of skills I possess.’
”

Dan slammed the pepper shaker down. “I know what skills you have. You have an art degree.”

“That and a buck will get me a cup of coffee.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Why the hell are you arguing? You said you wanted a job, and I said I’ll see to it you have one.”

“And what is your boss going to say?” She pulled away from him.

Dan looked down. He hadn’t even realized he was holding on to her wrist. What was this woman doing to him? He wanted to tell her the truth but she seemed to twist everything around. “If you want a job at Imperial, it’s yours. Take it or leave it.”

“Call your boss. Or better yet, get me an application tomorrow and I’ll apply just like everyone else.”

“Damn it, Charlie. I am the boss.”

Charlie shook her head. A blond strand of hair drifted onto her cheek and she brushed it aside. “You’re a trucker.”

“Right. I’m a trucker who’s an owner of the company and you can have a job there if you want it.”

“Oh.”

Dan watched in horror as Charlie momentarily looked like she might cry. But the moment was fleeting and was quickly replaced by what looked to be anger.

“You jerk.” She slugged his arm and bolted for the door.

Dan was quicker. He jumped out of his chair, sending it clattering to the floor, and grabbed her elbow. “What was that for?”

She swung around to face him, her eyes bright with either anger or unshed tears, he wasn’t quite sure. He prayed it was anger.

“You lied to me,” she hissed.

Dan had wanted her to stop looking at him like some hero. But he hadn’t wanted to see her look at him like this, as if he was just another man in a long line of men who didn’t live up to her ideals.

“I didn’t lie to you. You assumed I was just a truck driver, but I didn’t mention I was an owner of the company. That’s not lying. That’s omission. I am first and foremost just a trucker, a trucker who got lucky.”

She shrugged his hand from her elbow. “I’m sick of men using me.”

“Using you? What on earth could I want from you?” He held up a hand before she had a chance to answer. “Nothing. We’re not even friends. I just feel sorry for you.”

“Sorry for me? I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anything from you.” She turned, ready to make her escape.

Dan knew he should let her go. He’d burst her picture of him as some hero and she was prepared to walk out of his life. As soon as she did, his life could get back to normal.

But instead of listening to the rational part of his mind, he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “But feeling sorry for you, for the way your life has turned upside down, has nothing to do with why I want you.”

Her eyes widened. “Want me?” She shuffled backward, toward the door. “You want me in an employee sort of way?”

“No, I want you like this.” Dan pulled her into his arms and proceeded to show her exactly how he wanted her. It was the same way he’d wanted her when he’d first seen her hitchhiking in that ridiculous white gown, or eating dessert at the truck stop, or holding her after a nightmare. It was how he’d wanted her pretty much every moment that had passed since he’d met her.

He wanted her.

He’d needed to put distance between them, but he was beginning to suspect distance wasn’t going to help. He wanted her more with each passing moment. He’d tried to deny it, but he couldn’t. This woman twisted him in knots.

He deepened the kiss, feeling a bone-deep sense of contentment despite his inner turmoil.

“Wow,” she murmured when their lips finally broke apart. “I—”

“Don’t say another word. Turn around and march back to your car. Unload your packages, settle in, and call it an early night. We leave for work at six.”

“I—”

“Just shut up, Charlie. I realize you want me to apologize for lying to you and probably for kissing you, but there’s no way I’m apologizing for either. I’m a trucker who owns his company and I’m a man who’s not beyond physical temptation.” Dan turned to walk out of the kitchen and make his grand exit. He was stopped by something hitting him in the back. He turned and Charlie’s shoe was lying at his feet.

“I didn’t ask for an apology. I was going to say that with all the shopping I’d done, I hadn’t bought any food. I was going to ask you if you could recommend a pizza shop out here in the boondocks. And I was going to ask you if you’d like to split one, but bite me.”

Biting her sounded tempting, but Dan had already said too much, so he didn’t mention it. “What do you like?”

What did she like? She liked the way he kissed just fine, but Charlie wasn’t about to mention that. He was a conceited, pompous man who happened to kiss very well.

A man who owned a trucking company and who must have money. Dan had as much as admitted that. He was just another rich man. She was done with rich men. She had to remember that. But that didn’t stop her from appreciating his kissing abilities. She’d very much like to try again, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

As if he could read her mind, Dan clarified, “On your pizza.”

“Oh.” No, she wasn’t going to say she wanted to be kissed. Charlie had to settle for saying, “Cheese and mushrooms.”

“Fine. Frank’s delivers. I’ll call you when it gets here.” He turned, dismissing her.

Charlotte Eaton had had enough dismissals to last a lifetime. “Just give me the number and I’ll call. I can certainly handle ordering a pizza.”

“I don’t know the number. It’s on my speed dial.”

“You eat it that often?” She liked pizza as much as the next person, but certainly not enough to keep it on her speed dial.

“It’s no fun cooking for one.”

“Oh.” Charlie knew all about how dull cooking for one could be. As much as she loved cooking, she rarely had in her year with Winslow. He’d preferred eating out and she’d never cooked for family.

“Go unpack. I’ll call you when it comes. There’s an intercom system that connects the house to the apartment.”

“Fine.” Charlie turned and left, slamming the door behind her. Despite the fact she was done with men, she wished more than anything that Dan would stop her and kiss her senseless one more time. But he didn’t, and she was left to face unpacking all her clothes while she daydreamed about Dan Martin’s lips.

“Well, if it isn’t His Royal Highness,” the woman at the front desk at Imperial’s office said the next morning. “You’ve decided to visit with your loyal subjects?”

“Give it a rest, Molly,” Dan growled as he tossed some paperwork on the woman’s desk.

The well-rounded, smiling redhead turned her attention to Charlie. “And are you the reason Prince
Dan-some
here played hooky?”