The Prince Charming Hoax (2 page)

BOOK: The Prince Charming Hoax
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Chapter 2

The phone woke her. Leah reached for the receiver.

Hello,

she whispered as she lifted her head to see the clock.


Good morning! Did I wake you?


Yes. No. I don

t know…Doug?


I

m in a cab on my way to the airport, and I don

t know when I

ll get a chance to call you later. I wanted to tell you how good it was to see you last night.

Leah sat up.


Leah, are you there?


Yeah. I just don

t know what to say.


I really enjoyed seeing you.


You did?


Of course!


Well, I didn

t enjoy it.


You didn

t?


Maybe you and I were sitting at different tables, but the guy I was with told me he wasn

t ready to leave his wife and kids. What happened at your table?


Leah, you knew from the beginning that this was a difficult situation. I told you—


And I told you that I don

t share.

Her voice rose and Leah began to shake.

Did you think we could go on this way?


Leah, you

re breaking up. I

m at the airport. I

ll call you later as soon as I can.


I

m breaking up all right. Good-bye, Doug.

She slammed the receiver down.

Without lifting her hand, she glanced at the clock again. 7:17. Roxie was probably on her way to work. Leah picked up the phone and dialed her cell.


Hi, this is Roxanne Stein. I

m on the other line, but if you leave your name…

Leah hung up without leaving a message. Roxie was obviously already conducting business and wouldn

t have time to listen anyway.

Getting out of bed, Leah dragged herself to the bathroom and was confronted by her reflection. The previous night

s two martinis and less than five hours of sleep did nothing to improve her self-image. She looked as bad as she felt.


How stupid am I? What ever made me think this relationship would work?

The pain welled up and tightened in her chest. Leah shook her head and took a breath. She had to get control of herself.

She tied her hair back in a ponytail, pulled on workout clothes, and drove the one mile to Hollywood Beach—she wasn

t up to jogging today. Driving east, Leah could see that she missed the sunrise.

Damn, I could use some divine inspiration right about now.

She parked on the north end of the boardwalk and started up the wood steps to the walkway. Reaching the top stair, she stopped to look out over the water. The first glimpse of the ocean always moved her, and today was no exception. The sun was momentarily behind the clouds, but its illumination could be seen filtering through the white puffs. Thick beams of light streamed down and scattered, dancing across the waves once they reached the water.

Leah took in the image for a few moments, searching for a message. Not finding one, she headed south along the boardwalk, stopping only to get some tea to sip while she walked.

The tea warmed her inside as the sun warmed her skin, but Leah didn

t want to feel anything. She had to stay in control, and the only way to do that was to block out all emotions. Walking on the beach was her preferred escape from reality. She could detach from the world, at least temporarily—long enough to sort things out.

There was no time now to ponder her relationship with Doug. She had a more immediate crisis. She plopped down on a bench under a palm tree and dialed Roxie

s cell.


Roxanne Stein.


Hey, it

s me. Where are you?


At the Rhineman construction site. Checking on the castle

s progress.

Roxie had developed her own niche in the luxury real estate market. She acted as a lifestyle consultant for wealthy clients, advising them throughout the entire process of buying and building their multi-million dollar estate homes. She supervised the projects from site purchase to home layout and design. She also served as a buffer between contractors and her clients, mediating the inevitable construction hassles.


Where are you, Leah? Busy packing?


No. Rox, Doug was in town last night, and we had dinner.


Then why am I hearing a dejected voice?


It seems Doug has had a change of heart.


Is that what he said?


Of course not. He said Amanda was at a particularly vulnerable point in her therapy, and he needs to stay there with the children a little longer until she becomes more stable.


When would that be?


I don

t know. He told me to be patient.

Roxie drew a deep, audible breath. Leah braced herself for the tirade she knew would follow.


Leah, don

t you see? Douglas D. Dowling is a master manipulator. Old 3D didn

t get to be president of an international banking consortium by being straightforward with people. He tells you what he thinks is the maximum bad news you can bear at the moment. Once you get used to getting less than what you want, he drops the other shoe. I

ve seen guys use that strategy dozens of times in business.


This is love, not business, Rox.


So what

s Lover Boy going to do? Oh, forget him, what are you going to do?


That

s exactly the problem. I don

t know. I don

t want to move to New York now. It could be months, maybe years before he leaves her. I

m not spending one more minute being invisible. It was bad enough sneaking around the few times I was in New York on business. I

m not doing it anymore.


What aren

t you doing anymore?


I

m through with this affair. I won

t be a back-door girl. I should never have agreed to start up with him again. He

s not committing to anything. Especially not to helping me.


What do you mean?


I mean, he gave me some bullshit about not getting the bonus he expected, and he can

t promise any financial assistance. Amanda

s psychiatric bills are out of control.


So he wants you to move to New York, get an apartment without him, and pay for everything all by yourself?


He said I could stay in the corporate apartment, and he

d help me get job interviews for an editorial position at the top women

s magazines. I

ve already got some freelance writing contacts lined up, but…


Unless you get a job like editor-in-chief at
Vogue,
there

s no way you can swing an apartment and living expenses in New York by yourself. Rents for tiny studios start at around two grand.


I know that, Roxie, and I

m not going. But where am I going? I close on my house in a week, and I

ve sold almost all my furniture. And what the hell am I supposed to tell Ali?


Move in with me. Ali

s going off to school in a couple of months. We

ll manage.

Leah didn

t answer right away. There was no way she would expose her seventeen-year-old daughter to Roxie

s single-adult lifestyle.


Sweetie, I love you for offering. But no, can

t do it. We can

t cramp your style like that.


Look, Leah, let me think some more about it. Right now I

ve got to run to an appointment at my office. I

ve never met these people before, so I can

t be my usual twenty minutes late. I

m going to make some calls and get back to you later. Don

t worry. You and Ali will not be in the streets.

Leah clicked her phone off, stood up, and stretched. She slipped off her flip-flops and walked to the ocean

s edge, letting the waves lap gently over her feet. She noticed activity picking up around her as morning joggers, bikers, power walkers, and casual strollers filled the boardwalk. Leah was jealous, wishing for once she could be a carefree exerciser, enjoying a morning workout.

Her phone rang. She checked the incoming call screen.


Hi, Ali.


Where are you, Mommy? We were supposed to go shopping today.


I

m at the beach. I

m sorry, Baby. I forgot all about it.


Would you mind if I go with my friends? Tori and Dana haven

t gotten their dresses yet either, and they

re going to Surfside Mall.

Leah checked her watch. It was almost nine o

clock.

Are you sure? I can be home in five minutes. It will only take me about a half hour to shower and get ready. We can be there when the mall opens.


No, really Mom. I can go with them.


Do you have money, in case you find something you like?


Yeah. I got paid, so I can cash my check at the mall.


All right. I

ll pay you back, I promise.


I love you.


I love you, too, Ali. Good luck shopping.

Leah looked out at the ocean.

That child is my reason for living,

she thought.

If it weren

t for Ali…

She shook her head.

Don

t be ridiculous. Doug isn

t the first man to fuck you over, but I swear he will be the last. Go home now and figure out what you

re going to do.

Leah walked along the water back toward her car. Walking barefoot in the sand was good exercise for her legs. Besides, the beach route safely avoided all those happy people on the boardwalk enjoying their lives.

Chapter 3

Roxie hung up with Leah and headed out to her car only to be greeted with her own bad news. Her right front tire was flat. She looked around for some construction workers to flag down for assistance, but no one was outside.


Figures, this place is usually crawling with guys ogling me, and now when I need help, no one is around.

Once when she was a teenager with a new driver

s license, she asked her mother what to do if she had a flat or breakdown on the road.

Get out of the car and look pretty,

her mother answered.

Looking pretty was not a problem for Roxie. A raven-haired beauty with porcelain skin, she had almond-shaped hazel eyes that flashed with her vibrant personality. She was five feet, six inches tall, with long legs and a body that could have easily graced the cover of a
Sports Illustrated
bathing suit issue.

The problem was that there was no one around to see her look pretty.


When all else fails, Mother,

she said looking skyward,

women today call AAA.

Roxie tried to dial for assistance, but she couldn

t get any reception.

Damn! This only happens when I have to be somewhere!

As if on cue, a worker emerged from the house. She waved her arms to get his attention. As he headed down the long driveway, Roxie had time to size him up. About six feet tall, he had long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore tight jeans, a denim shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, and cowboy boots. Based on that quick observation, she plotted her damsel-in-distress routine.

When he got close enough for her to establish eye contact, she flashed her sweetest smile.

Can you help me? I must have run over a nail or something, and my tire

s flat. I tried to call Triple A but for some reason, I

m not getting any reception on my phone. I have an appointment in ten minutes, and I

m really in a rush. I was wondering if maybe you could help me and change my tire?

She cocked her head to the side and gave him another sweet smile. She got a blank stare in response. Reassessing, she wondered if maybe he was one of the South American workers, although he certainly didn

t look Hispanic.


Do you speak English?


Yeah.

He stood there expressionless, except for squinting in the sun.

Roxie shifted gears. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her card. The sweet girl disappeared and the businesswoman emerged.


I

m Roxanne Stein, Executive Consultant to the Rhinemans. My appointment is with people they referred to me, and…you do know who the Rhinemans are, don

t you? They are the owners…

She could see this tactic wasn

t working either. He looked bored, not impressed.


Listen, do you have a cell phone I could borrow to make a call? I really have to get out of here and…

She stopped short as she watched him turn and walk away. She could not believe it. What a jerk! She shook her head. The look-pretty tactic was about as useful as the rest of the advice her mother had doled out over the years.

She tried her cell again, but it was dead. She tossed the phone in the passenger seat.

Useless pieces of crap, him and the phone.

Roxie threw her keys on the ground in frustration.

She brightened at the sound of a vehicle coming up the gravel road. Shielding her eyes from the sun

s glare, she could make out a big, black pickup approaching fast. The truck stopped short only inches from her, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel. Roxie caught a glimpse of the workman who had just left behind the wheel. As he got out of the cab, their eyes locked and her heart raced. As he came toward her, she had a momentary flash of him tossing her Boxster in the back of his truck, picking her up, throwing her in the cab, and driving off.

But instead he scooped up her keys, which still lay at her feet, turned and grabbed a jack from the bed of his pickup, and retrieved her spare from her trunk. Without a word, he started to change her tire.

Roxie watched him, not knowing what to think. It wasn

t often that a man surprised her. Most of them were as transparent as windows.

Why didn

t you say anything?


Ma

am?


When you left, you might have told me you were coming back instead of letting me think you were taking off.


You

re not the kind of woman a man tells anything. You

re the kind that has to be shown.

Roxie wasn

t sure if his response was a compliment or an insult. She watched him almost effortlessly jack up the Porsche and remove the flat. She admired the way he worked, and she liked the way he looked.

She usually didn

t care for long hair on men, but on him it was sexy, not feminine. He had a broad back and narrow hips. When he squatted down to tighten the lugs, his jeans stretched taut across a hard, firm butt. A tanned and blonde-haired chest peeked out from his half-open shirt. Even though she couldn

t see his arms under his sleeves, she knew he was muscular. Although it was quite warm in the Florida sun, he was barely breaking a sweat.


Are you new on the crew here? I know I haven

t seen you before.


My first day.

He finished putting on the spare and threw the flat in her trunk. He wiped his hands on his jeans, and handed her back her keys.

You can

t go too far on that spare. Better stop and get that tire patched on the way to wherever you

re going. I know you

re in a hurry, but it shouldn

t take too long to fix. It

ll take a whole lot longer if you get another flat and don

t have a spare.

Roxie heard bells. The catering truck was pulling up to the site, letting the workers know it was break time.


Let me buy you some coffee and breakfast,

she said.

You know, to thank you. I appreciate that you took the time to help me out.


You don

t have time to buy me coffee. You

re late for your appointment.


Oh, no,

she gasped.

I forgot about the appointment!

She glanced at her watch.

Crap, I

ve missed it.

She reached in the car to retrieve her phone, but it still wasn

t working. She sighed.

I

ll call them later to apologize and reschedule.

She turned her attention back to the workman.

In the mean time, I want to buy you breakfast. I

m not taking

no

for an answer. Anyway, I

m starving, and I hate to eat alone. So, what do you want…? You know, I don

t know your name.


Daryl Johnson. D.J.

The catering truck had set up, and the workers were gathering to place their orders.

Come on, D.J. Let

s see what the Greasy Spoon has to offer.

D.J. shrugged and followed her.


I

ll have an iced coffee and a lemon cream donut,

she told the attendant. She turned to D.J.

You look like a ham-and-eggs guy to me. What

ll it be, D.J.?


Fruit cup and a water.

Roxie laughed.

You are full of surprises. Watching your weight?


No. I

m a vegetarian.


Well, you look healthy.

Roxie signed for their meals and they walked back down the driveway.


It

ll be hot sitting out here or in your car with the top down,

he said.

Would you like to eat in my truck, Mrs. Stein?


Sure. It

s Ms. Stein, but call me Roxie, please.


Let me get the door for you, Roxie.

He helped her into the cab.

Roxie didn

t have much experience with trucks, and she had never seen one like this before. It was as elegant as a luxury car inside. D.J. got in on the driver

s side, started the motor, and turned on the air conditioning. He pulled out a tray from the console, which provided them with cup holders and a place to set down their food. Then he turned on his CD player.

What kind of music do you like, Roxie? You don

t seem like a country western fan to me.

Roxie smiled.

No, but go ahead and put on what you like.

She relaxed in the plush seat, took a sip of her iced coffee and listened to Harry Connick, Jr.

Again you surprise me. So, exactly what job am I keeping you from here on your first day?


Oh, I

m finished here for the day. But I

ll probably come back about 4 p.m. to make sure everything

s been done right.


It

s only 9:30. What do you do that you

re finished for the day?


I said I

m finished
here.
I have other locations to check out. I

m co-owner of the company that landscapes most of the estates in this area.


In Fort Lauderdale, you mean?


In South Florida. Our accounts are located from the Keys to Palm Beach, for now.


You

re expanding?


Yes, ma

am.


Roxie.


Right.

D.J. took out the card she gave him earlier.

Tell me, Roxie, exactly what does the Executive Consultant to the Rhinemans do?

He exaggerated each syllable of her name and title with a slight Southern drawl.


Pretty much everything they don

t want to do for themselves.

D.J.

s phone rang. While he was distracted with his business conversation, Roxie had a chance to observe him closely. He had dark brown eyes that gave the impression you

d better be straight with him. An unexpected dusting of freckles across his cheeks softened the severity of his heavy brows and long, straight nose, adding a boyish quality to his masculine features. He had a square chin and full lips that showed straight white teeth when he spoke. She noticed he didn

t smile much and that he wasn

t wearing a wedding band.

While Roxie was watching him, he was observing her. She took a bite of her donut and let the cream squirt into to her mouth. She rolled it around on her tongue, seeming to enjoy the sweetness, and then licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. When their eyes met, she smiled slightly to let him know she was doing it for his benefit.

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