Tinderella (4 page)

Read Tinderella Online

Authors: Jecca Bartlett

BOOK: Tinderella
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"Coffee, just coffee and a well planned escape route from now on."

"Good, great actually. Give me your phone, we're going to do this again."

"NO! Not tonight!"

"Yep," said Gooch digging in Cyndi's bag for her phone. "Gotta get right back on that horse, c'mon, let's get swiping."

Twenty-five minutes later, Gooch held the phone up in the air like the Lion King holding Simba, "We've got a winner here! You're going to love this one, just you wait and see."

"I'm not getting married, so shut up and stop telling me how much I'm going to love this guy," Cyndi said to her best friend.

"No, fine, you're not. You're getting coffee. I've got it all set up."

"You messaged pretending to be me?!"

"Were you going to do it?"

"NO, no I was not!"

"Well then, of course I did. Someone had to."

"No one had to, I...oh never mind. Fine, what have you done?"

"Coffee, at CoffeeLlama, tomorrow at four."

"Four, why four?"

"So you can segue into dinner, of course."

"I'm not having dinner with him. The last guy had handcuffs!"

"Eh, not such a big deal. He didn't put them on you, right? Whatever you say, this is the guy, I'm telling you."

"Being easy isn't as easy as I thought it would be."

"You just haven't had a lot of practice, it gets uh, well, you know, easier."

"Bold words there Gooch, bold words."

Coffee tomorrow at 4, she wasn't really interested, but what did she have to lose except an hour of her time? She might as well do that as watch TV re-runs.
 

In the meantime she was back at Park Place today, complete with her basket of pumpkin muffins. Kind of theme-y she figured, but worth it. She finished Mrs. Entwhistle's apartment in record time and sat and shared a muffin with her.
 

As she stepped into the elevator she tried to tell herself that she just wanted to get to the penthouse because she enjoyed it so much, and she hoped she could have a little spare time to look out the windows. But she was lying to herself, that feeling of butterflies in the pit of her stomach was the start of a crush. Which was crazy.

So, did she have a crush on the apartment? The owner (sight unseen), the what? The view?

Thinking about it made her head hurt, she leaned her forehead against the cool metal walls of the elevator car. It stopped softly at the top floor and the doors slid open.

Cyndi stepped out and crossed to the door where she used the keycard to open it. As soon as she was inside the butterfly feeling vanished and it was replaced by a sense of peace. As if she were home.

Shaking her head to dismiss that bit of craziness she went to the kitchen where she deposited the muffins on the counter.
 

Set out to greet her were a bunch of very ripe bananas, sugar, eggs, vanilla, flour, baking powder and baking soda, a loaf pan and a note.

Cynderella, I figured if I left everything out for banana bread, then you'd have to clean it all up. And you might as well bake as you put it all in the away, right? I'd love to come home to the smell of banana bread tonight. Here's hoping you'll take pity on a poor hapless bachelor and make this one small wish come true.

Pearce

Cyndi smiled as she read the note. She was pretty sure some part of her should be offended, but she wasn't. She had been bringing him baked goods after all, so he wasn't putting her in a mold she hadn't already put herself in.

She hesitated for just a moment, then set the oven to pre-heat. This was going to be kind of fun. Cyndi opened the tall, wooden, window fronted cabinets and pulled out a mixer and bowl. Then she picked through the drawers until she had a rubber spatula and some measuring cups. The drawers slid open like a dream, so smooth. Not like at her place where she had to yank. Everything matched and appeared almost completely unused.
 

The kitchen had a perfect triangle for cooking, between the fridge, the sink and the ovens. She was in her element.
 

She hummed to herself as she gave the batter a final stir and set the timer on her phone. She set about cleaning the kitchen and wiping down the counters then moved to the other rooms.
 

Before she knew it the bread was done, she set it out to cool and finished cleaning his place. She wiped down the leather furniture in the living room and vacuumed. In the bedroom she freshened the sheets, amazing cotton and so super soft, and then she did the bathrooms. She looked longingly at the shower, after baking, and cleaning two places she could use some cleaning up she was sure.
 

But that would be crazy, that's all she'd need, him finding her here. So she tucked some stray wisps of hair behind her ears, and settled for splashing cold water on her arms and face.
 

In the kitchen she set the muffins and the freshly baked bread together on the island and left a note that said simply: Enjoy.

Back in the elevator she leaned her head on the cool surface again and thought about her upcoming date. She'd really sooner stay home and bake something, listen to some music, drink some wine. This was it, she wasn't cut out to be easy, or have flings, she was just going to have to let Gooch know the experiment was a bust.

But first, she had to have a cup of coffee with a stranger.
 

****

PEARCE

Pearce got home and smelled it right away, the banana bread. It conjured up visions of his childhood, not that his mother had known what to do in the kitchen, but his Nana had been a fine baker. It was from her that he learned to love breads, cookies, cakes and pastries. They had shared toast with home made jam and coffee on Saturday mornings.
 

His father hadn't been home all that much, and mom had her hands full with him, and the other kids and society stuff. So, Nana had stepped in and cared for them, and she made it clear that she enjoyed it. And enjoyed him.

All that from the smell of banana bread, Pearce thought to himself that maybe that was a little too much introspection and he should head back to see Dr. Hadley of the funny pills and the 50 minute hour.
 

What he really needed was a partner, he knew that. Someone to come home to, a reason to be here. He never felt like it was really home. Except for maybe right now. No, definitely right now.

****

CYNDI

"Are you all ready for your date?" Gooch was on the phone.

"Gooch, what are you, my mother? Yes, of course."

"I don't think moms get their kids ready for dates."

"I wouldn't know."

"Yeah, me either, actually. I can bet your step-monster didn't get you ready for them though."

"No, no she did not. She got her daughters ready though, shopping, picked their clothes, did their hair."

Gooch paused, "That was really mean of her," she said shaking her head.

"Eh, I didn't have any dates anyway. So, if she had offered, there wouldn't have been anything for her to do. It's fine, she is who she is."

"A meanie?"

Cyndi laughed, "Yeah, kind of. I mean she made my dad happy, he just couldn't have known how she'd devote herself to, well not to being mean to me exactly, but to ignoring me. It was as if I didn't exist. And the girls took her lead, and so I felt invisible."

"Can you hear me hugging you right now?"

"Thanks, Gooch. That's one of the cool things about being a grown-up, you get to pick your friends and make them be your chosen family."

"Awww, thanks kid. Now get out there and make me proud."

"Yes ma'am!"

CoffeeLlama was in the next block but Cyndi pulled over and parked as soon as she saw a space. As proud as she was of her company she didn't really feel the need to lead with a pumpkin coach car.

As she approached the coffee shop the smell of the rich Columbian brew and something cinnamon and sweet caught her attention. Cinnamon rolls. Perfect, she was trying to recall where she had read that cinnamon rolls was one of the scents men got aroused by, when she nearly collided with a very tall wall of a man in a pale blue shirt. She stopped short and looked up into sky blue eyes, fashionably cut hair and a smirk.

"Excuse me! I'm sorry. I was daydreaming!" she sputtered.

"Not at all, it isn't every day someone is so engrossed in their thoughts that they don't see me."

He stuck out his hand "Pearce, and you're Cyndi, right, we have a date."

"Oh, right, right, I recognize you, I was just...," later she would attribute her inability to put two and two together and come up with Pearce from the penthouse to the aroma of cinnamon rolls. It had to be the rolls that steered her off course, how could she not have realized it was him?

"May I get you some coffee?"

"I'll get it, thanks."

"No, I insist, it's not quid pro quo here, you don't owe me anything," he wiggled his eyebrows and smiled again. "And how about a roll? Cinnamon? They smell fantastic!"

"I know, that's why I was so distracted coming in." she smiled, "I'll get us a table outside, okay? Cream and sugar," she called over her shoulder

"Sure," he called back as he approached the barista. Cyndi took a moment to watch him walk. He must have been an athlete once, he moved with a self confident grace that was definitely not fake.
 

Well spoken, polite, handsome, little bit of a smirk. More importantly he gave her that feeling. The butterfly one. She was excited. This was promising.
 

She watched him approach as he left the cafe and walked to the table. He held open the door for a mom pushing two toddlers in a stroller, then sat at the table and handed her the coffee and a cinnamon roll. As he gave her the roll their hands touched for a moment and she felt it. That spark, the beginning of something. She hoped it was something good.

****

When she thought about it later, she couldn't decide exactly where she had gone wrong. But then she hadn't set up the date, so maybe that was it. The origination story was borked.

As they sipped their coffees they looked awkwardly at one another for a moment. Then both spoke at the same time.

"I'm sorry if--"

"I hope the coffee isn't--"

He laughed, "You go first."

"No, it's fine, what were you going to say?"

"Just that I hope I fixed your coffee right. How about you? You were going to apologize, we've known each other for like, 6 minutes, what's to apologize for?"

Cyndi smiled, "Right, it's just that, well I hope I'm who you think I am. You know? I mean, oh, it's hard to explain. Well, not really hard, but, I didn't set up this date." Cyndi glanced up in time to see his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "My friend Gooch, she set it up. She stole my password, well no that's not true, she set my password in the first place, I'm not even sure how she did it. But I had a scary crappy date and she felt like I had to get back on the horse."

"And I'm the horse?"

Cyndi nodded.

"I see, well I've been called worse. So, your profile, is it you? I mean the picture is. But what it says?" he smiled at her, he was taking this well. His eyes crinkled when he grinned and he had a little bit of a dimple in his right cheek. She watched his lips move as he talked and wondered briefly what it would feel like to have those lips on hers.
 

"Oh, yeah, I set it up. It's me alright. I just wasn't going to swipe right, that's all."

"Should I be offended?"

"No, it's totally not you. I mean that, it's the last guy. You can blame him."

"What did he do? Was he smelly? Particularly ugly? Those are two areas where I feel like I'm safe. I just showered, and I have been told more than once that I'm normal looking."

"No, he. Well, wait, you're very handsome and you smell fantastic."

"It's probably the cinnamon."

"No, it's definitely you." She smiled, "He, well, he ordered for me, and separately the dishes would have been fine, but together, not so much. That's forgivable though, first dates are kind of nerve wracking. It was the handcuffs."

Visibly startled he leaned in and whispered "Handcuffs? Did you say handcuffs?
 

"Yep, I did. Handcuffs."

"Was he a cop?"

"No, he was an options trader, with an ego the size of a two ton pick-up truck. And handcuffs. I don't know," she twined her hair around her fingers. "I mean, who does that?"

"To clarify, this was your first date?"

"Mmmm-hmmm, first and last."

"Well, I'm not sure I can live up to that. Let's see," he said reaching into his jacket pocket. "Phone, notepad, two gel pens, a set of keys, notice none of them will open handcuffs, and a stick of gum. I had two but I chewed one before I got here, would you like one?"

Cyndi laughed and relaxed a bit, maybe this was going to be okay? "No, no gum thanks, it won't go with the cinnamon roll. How about your slacks, any handcuffs in there?"

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