remind you to be nice to Karl. He’s Anthony’s best man, so you’ll be seeing him again. No pressure,” she teased, and I couldn’t help but smile despite my reservations.
I’d already had a failed blind date on Monday, and two in one week made me feel desperate, even though it was everyone else who was desperate to set me up with someone. But I’d quickly learned you don’t argue with the bride when it comes to anything even semi-wedding related, and as she’d pointed out, I had to meet Karl eventually. She also said this guy was different, and if anyone had a chance of setting me up with someone I could have a casual dating relationship with, it was Stephanie.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked in, my gaze on my keypad as I sent Steph a text. If this adversely affects your wedding, you and Anthony will have no one to blame but yourselves. I want a statement detailing such in my office by noon.
I hit send, knowing she’d get that I was joking, then glanced up to make sure the elevator was going down to the garage.
I wasn’t the only person in the elevator. Jake—of course—was in the corner. He smelled like a combination of fresh, soapy scent and that amazing-smelling musky cologne. It filled up the elevator, and I wanted to take a big whiff and hold it in all day.
“Hey,” I said. “Off to work?”
He nodded. Nothing else.
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. “I should’ve said hi last night, but it was kind of crazy.”
“You had company. I get it,” he said, his voice lacking its usual carefree quality.
I realized he’d probably gotten the wrong idea about who Drew was, and suddenly, I was desperate to explain. Because first of all, ew, and second of all, I didn’t want him thinking I brought guys home all the time. “That was my brother. He was in town for the night, and we actually spent most of it trying to land him a new girl. I won’t know for a few weeks how successful it was.” The memory of Drew saying in front of Jake how mean I was came rushing back to me. I put my hand on his arm. “You know, Drew was exaggerating. I’m a nice person. Most of the time.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on his lips. “So, you didn’t really slap a guy in the middle of someone’s wedding?”
I bit my lip. “Technically, it was at the reception, and I know it sounds bad out of context, but I swear he deserved it.”
Jake looked down at me and I noticed again how blue his eyes were. My gaze moved to his lips.
I dropped my hand from his arm and swallowed.
“And what did I do to deserve the brush-off?” he asked.
The elevator doors opened and I let out a sigh of relief. Saved by the
I could feel every beat of my heart, and the walls of the elevator seemed to be closing in on me. “It’s nothing against you personally. You seem nice—you’re very charming, actually, which I’m sure you know. But you live in my building, and I’ve got certain rules about that kind of thing. Before I stuck to the rules, my life was much messier.” I ducked under his arm—damn he smelled good—and started for my car.
Jake stayed by my side, our footsteps echoing through the garage. “I live in the wrong place and just like that, I’ve got no chance with you?”
I kept my eyes on my car, afraid that if I looked at him, I might give in. And yes, last night I’d considered trying one little date. But he noticed too much, and he pushed against boundaries I wasn’t ready to let go of. It was time I pushed back. “Why have you chosen to pursue me? I’m not playing hard to get. It’s not some game you’ve got to win.” I pointed my remote at my silver Dodge Durango and pushed the unlock button.
Jake stepped ahead of me and opened the car door for me. “I’m sure plenty of guys hit on you. Obviously you’re beautiful. But there’s something different about you that makes me not want to give up.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Cinderella’s.”
Two creases formed between Jake’s eyebrows. “Cinderella’s?”
“Yeah, Cinderella screwed me over.” Without any more explanation, I got into my car, pulled the door closed, and fired up the engine.
…
My seventh birthday was one that stuck out among the rest of my birthdays. Mom and Dad had been fighting a lot, but on that day they’d come together and thrown me a princess party at the local McDonald’s. I wore my Cinderella dress; the other girls were decked out in various other princess costumes. (Mine was the most authentic—Mom had gone all out.)
Another party was going on at the same time. A group of boys dressed as superheroes sat across the room. Their fighting and yelling drifted over, interrupting our party. The girls and I frowned, shook our heads, and wrinkled our noses at them.
Mom took a picture of all my friends and me in our dresses, which remained remarkably clean. In the photo, you can see the boys in the background. They have ketchup on their clothes, and for some reason, Batman has a sword—basically, it’s an unorganized mess.
I could’ve saved a lot of stress over the years if I’d just realized then that boys didn’t want to be princes from fairy tales. They wanted to act cool, talk cool, and get into fights.
I made the mistake of thinking they’d grow out of it someday.
My Age: 23
I met Charlie at a dance club. It wasn’t exactly a ball, but my dress was sparkly, my shoes covered in rhinestones—so practically glass slippers. I’d been to enough dance clubs to know that you didn’t meet guys at dance clubs—not good guys, anyway. Stephanie had just broken up with Jimmy Delfino, this jerk she’d dated for way too long. To celebrate, she’d wanted to go dancing.
Charlie, a cute guy with light brown skin and huge brown eyes, asked me to dance shortly after we’d arrived. We danced another song after that. Then another and another, until we’d spent more of the night together than apart. As the club was closing down, he told me he’d love to see me again.
Stephanie gave me that look. The one that said,
I sighed. “You know, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Charlie leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I hope that someday we’ll cross paths again.” He gave me a sad smile, hung his head, and then slowly turned away from me.
“Wait,” I said. “I’d rather not leave it up to fate. Sometimes fate needs a little help.”
A huge grin spread across his face. He whipped out his cell and programmed my number into it. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? You’re not going to play it cool for a few days? Isn’t that what guys like you do?”
Charlie reached out and squeezed my hand. “I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t wait around when I run into a girl like you. I’m not stupid.”
I had to hand it to him, he had the sweet-talk thing down. I’d heard plenty of lines before, but there was something about the way he delivered that one that made me think he might just be different.
The next day, I told myself over and over that if he didn’t call, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But when an unfamiliar number lit up my display, I shrieked and jumped around for a few seconds before answering it.
“Hello,” I said in my best, I’m-casual-sexy-cool voice.
“Darby?”
His voice sent my blood rushing through my body. It was him! He called! “Yeah?”
He exhaled. “Oh, thank goodness. My boys bet me you didn’t give me your real number. I’m glad they’re wrong.”
I smiled. “You had a certain something that made me break my rule about giving my number out to guys at
