Cinderella Screwed Me Over

everything.”

Jake shot me a skeptical glance, then turned his attention to Stephanie. “I hear you’re getting married soon.”

“In five weeks and one day.” That faraway, dreamy gleam entered her eye. “I can’t wait.” She sighed, then snapped out of it and pointed a finger at me. “I don’t want to hear it.”

I held my hands up. “I wasn’t going to say anything about your very specific countdown.”

Sarah walked over, pen and pad out.

“I guess that’s my cue.” Jake kissed my cheek. He dragged his nose across my skin, and when he spoke, his lips brushed my ear. “If you get a chance, come back to my office and say good-bye. Otherwise, I suppose I’ll just have to wait until you’re done juggling all your other guys.”

My skin was now covered in goose bumps. “I’ll try to squeeze you in. It was Jack, right?”

He flashed me a mischievous smile. “You can call me whatever you like, as long as you call me.”

If anyone but Stephanie was with me, I might’ve tried to play it cool. Instead I watched him walk away, grinning like an idiot.

After Sarah took our order, Stephanie leaned in. “Wow, Darby. He’s really hot.”

“I told you he was.”

“Yeah, but, dang. And he’s nice, and so all about you. How are you not in love with him already?”

Just the mention of the word love set off alarms, making my entire body tense up. I wasn’t in love with Jake, but I was starting to tip toward falling, and while it terrified me, there was a thrill hidden underneath the fear as well. If I said that, though, I’d never hear the end of it, so I shrugged and played it off. “I guess I know better. The only thing I’ve ever gotten from falling fast and hard is hurt.”

“I don’t want you to ruin things with him because of all your rules.”

I ran my fingers along the edge of the table. Keeping things from Stephanie never worked. We’d been friends too long and I needed to talk to her if I was really letting go—even if it was only a little bit. “I’m starting to rethink my rules. It’s not like they’ve worked out for me so well.”

A huge grin lit up Stephanie’s face. “Are you saying that—”

“No,” I said, holding up a stop-right-there hand. “I’m not disregarding them all. I did that for Porter, remember? I’m saying some of my rules I’m breaking—like letting it slide that Jake lives in my building and has a classic car and works at my favorite restaurant. I’m going to let myself enjoy the beginning, exciting part of our relationship. But some things, like the not getting too serious, are still firmly in place.”

Stephanie stuck out her lips, shifting them one way then the other. “I guess it’s better than nothing.” She tapped her fingers on the table, then glanced at her purse, and her fingers started moving faster.

“You can check it if you want to.”

Stephanie looked back up at me. “I wasn’t… I just worry that Anthony might be trying to get ahold of me.”

“It’s okay. Unlike you, I’ve accepted you the way you are. I’m done trying to change you.”

Steph reached for her purse. Halfway there, she dropped her hand. “No. You know what? If it’s important, it’ll be there in an hour.” She looked at me, a smug expression on her face. “See, people change. One small victory at a time.”

Jake walked into my line of sight. He said something to Chad, then glanced over at me. My instincts told me to look away and play it cool. Jake smiled at me, though, and I smiled back.

Maybe Stephanie was right. I wasn’t going to change my entire philosophy, but I was going to learn to be open to the possibility of a good relationship, even knowing it wasn’t going to last forever. Like she said, one small victory at a time.

Chapter Eighteen

It’s pretty impressive what you can get done when you have a Friday night to yourself. I ran three miles, mopped my floors, put the finishing touches on a couple of proposals, and took a trip to the bookstore. Luckily, I didn’t run into an old boyfriend or have to hide in the erotica section.

What’s devastating about getting so much done on a Friday night, is it makes you feel like a loser. The rest of the world was out there celebrating the start of the weekend, while I sat by myself on my couch, wondering what I should do next.

Admittedly, I started to feel the tiniest bit sorry for myself. I know, it’s not very Independent Woman thinking of me. It’s not like I needed a guy. But someone to hang out with would be nice.

Nadine was with her Help From Cupid matchup, Steph and Anthony were having dinner with Steph’s parents, and Jake was working.

I guess I should’ve gone to the ranch for the night.

It’s too late now. Mom will be getting ready for bed by the time I show up.

I’m not much of a phone-talker, but when I get bored enough, I start calling everyone I know to say hi. Half the time I regret it around minute three and then spend the rest of the time trying to figure out how to nicely end the call.

If I was going to shoot the breeze with someone, though, Drew was my first choice. I picked up my phone and dialed his number. After four rings, it rolled over to his voice mail. Mom didn’t answer, either. I scrolled up and down through my contacts—mostly work associates. Then I saw Jake’s name. Calling for no reason was such a relationship-y thing.

Don’t do it.

I set my phone down on my coffee table and sat back on my couch. Looking for something to keep me busy, I picked up the remote and searched through the onscreen guide. Three times.

I had a staring contest with my phone for about a minute—that thing didn’t blink once. I picked it off the coffee table, scrolled down to Jake’s number, and pushed the call button.

What am I going to say if he picks up?

Back in high school, this was the point I would’ve realized my mistake and hung up; nowadays, technology didn’t let you chicken out. Already, my number was going to be on his phone, showing the exact time I called.

What am I going to say if it goes to voice mail?

“Hey, gorgeous,” Jake said.

My heart went all fluttery on me. “Hey. Are you busy right now?”

I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand. Of course he’s busy, stupid. He’s at work.

“For you, I’m sure I can find a few minutes.”

The pressure to come up with something to say sent me into panic mode. Work was boring, I hadn’t done anything today worth mentioning, and my mind scrambled for something—anything—to say to him.

“Guess who came into Blue tonight for dinner,” Jake said.

“If I missed Christian Bale, I’m going to be so upset.”

He laughed. “Close. The Crabtrees. Mrs. Crabtree asked about you, so I told her you’d finally broken down and gone out with me. She hugged me, then lectured me on being a gentleman and treating you right. She’s surprisingly scary for an older lady.”

Picturing Mrs. Crabtree and Jake having that conversation made me smile. “It’s nice to know she’s got my back.”

“Yeah, with those bar fights you get into, you need all the extra help you can get.”

And just like that, we eased into an effortless conversation that surpassed my normal three-minute mark.

…

When my phone rang Saturday morning, I fumbled around for a few minutes before finding it. Drew.

I hit the accept button and put the phone up to my ear. “You better be dying.”