The sound of pots and pans clanging together woke me up. I squinted at the clock and pulled my covers over my head. Drew had gotten chatty last night and we ended up laughing and talking while we ate leftover Chinese food. It’d been fun, but I’d had a hard time falling asleep. Even after a solid six hours, I still felt exhausted.
Whistling accompanied the clanging pans, and I cursed myself for not closing my bedroom door. Groaning, I threw off the covers, got out of bed, and padded down the hall.
Drew was already up and cooking eggs. He put down the spatula and headed over to the fridge, where he took out the carton of orange juice and set it on the island. “You don’t have any bacon or sausage.”
“I don’t usually have time for real breakfast. Mostly I just grab cereal and toast.” I took two glasses out of my cupboard and filled them with orange juice. “I thought you’d sleep in.”
“I did. I’m used to waking up at six, and I made it all the way to seven. Besides, I feel bad leaving Dad and Devin doing all the work.”
I covered my yawn with my hand. “How is Devin anyway? I know last time I was there, things between him and Anne were tense.”
“Ava’s still in that crying-all-the-time baby stage. It’ll get better once she’s older. At least it did after Levi got older.”
“I just think it’s sad. They used to be so in love. Ever since they had the kids, all they do is fight.”
“It’s not like they’re going to get divorced.” Drew scooped out the steaming scrambled eggs onto the two plates.
“Yeah, but it proves my point. Love—the I’m-crazy-about-you kind—never lasts. You still care for and love the person. But you don’t stay in love.”
Drew shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. “I remember when all you ever talked about was finding a guy and getting married. You’d hog the TV, watching those sappy chick flicks—”
“Then I grew up and learned why they always end the movie after the guy and girl get together. That’s when everything falls apart.”
…
While I waited for the elevator, I listened to the voice mail message Steph had left for me. “Just thought I’d 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.
Is he snubbing me? Maybe it’s because of last night.
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.
Mayday, mayday, mayday.
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 bing! I moved for the doors, but Jake beat me to them. Only he put a hand out to hold them open and turned to face me, eyebrows raised. So much for escaping the question.
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. Ugh. Boys.
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.
Cinderella Case Study: Charlie/Prince Charming
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, We have rules about dance-club guys.
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 a club.” But then reality hit. My last serious relationship had been Allen, and that made me gun-shy to dig in. “Hey, Charlie, you’re not married are you?”
“Hell no! And why would I hit on you if I was married?”
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “I just like to check.” I cringed, thinking I’d blown it—that he’d hang up and never talk to me again.
But then he said, “So how do you feel about my coming and picking you up tomorrow night? I don’t want to have to wait longer than that.”
I was officially swept off my feet.
For the first month, Charlie and I had nothing but fun. We hit dance clubs and went to party after party together. One of his friends was always having a get-together, and they were usually big, extravagant things—money was obviously not an object. It was a blur of fun, loud, good times.
By then my apprenticeship at Metamorphosis was almost up, and I was working like crazy to make sure I got a coveted designer position. I spent a few weeks mixing and matching color swatches for an upcoming pitch while downing muffins and energy drinks.
Since Charlie was what Steph and I referred to as a “trust-fund baby,” he didn’t have a job. I think he occasionally went to the one college class he was taking, and though he didn’t have much purpose in life besides having a good time, he was very good at it.
One night when I was putting the finishing touches on my pitch, he took my laptop away and held it out of reach. “If you don’t get busy living, you’re going to look back at your life and find it empty.”
When I reached for it, he kissed me, keeping my computer out of reach. “Come on, baby,” he said. “Let’s go out. You deserve a break.” He kissed my neck, then moved his lips to my jawline. “Wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do.”
So we went out and hit the party scene, the way we had before my life had gotten so busy. And I liked that he made me take time for myself so I didn’t get too burned out.
Then I got my full-time job at Metamorphosis, life slowed down a bit, and Charlie and I started spending a little quiet time together. We didn’t do that well with quiet time. Remember how in Cinderella Prince Charming has, like, three or four lines? My relationship with Charlie would’ve been better had we stuck to four lines.
A few big fights later, I knew we weren’t going to work. But because I had so much fun when we went out, I hesitated to end it.
I was sitting in his apartment with him and his friends when things took a turn for the worse. They were watching sports, like they did every minute they could.
“Can you believe those chicks at the club last night?” Joe, one of Charlie’s roommates, said.
“There should be a weight limit on girls dancing in the cages,” Charlie said.
“And at Hooters.”
Charlie tossed a handful of chips in his mouth. “Unless their boobs are what tips them over the scale,” he said through the crunching.
I sat there for a moment, not believing what I’d just heard. “Seriously?”
Eyes still locked on the screen, Charlie kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, baby. You’re not even close to that weight.”
I injected my words with sarcasm. “Yes, that’s what I’m worried about. Not that my boyfriend is a chauvinistic pig.”
“When did you get so serious about everything?” he asked.
I shoved the magazine I’d been looking at into my purse and sighed. “Good-bye, Charlie. You and I aren’t going to work out.”
Charlie’s gaze actually left the screen this time. “Come on, baby. It will work if you just loosen up.”
“Well, this is who I am.”
“No, you used to be cool.”
“No, you don’t really know me.” I’d never been very good at the break-up part, but I didn’t wan to end on a completely horrible note. “So, good luck with everything and all that. It was fun while it lasted.”
“I don’t need this!” he shouted. “Just go!” He then proceeded to act like he was dumping me, even though I’d already ended the relationship.
So I packed up my practically glass slippers and hit the road.
Cinderella was the first fairy tale I remember—the one I was most obsessed with because of the gowns and magic and pretty shoes. Yes, her home life was less than ideal—and considering the talking mice and birds, she probably needed serious therapy. But she gave me the most unrealistic expectations of all. Falling in love at first sight, becoming a princess with everything she’d ever need at her disposal, and a relationship that ended happily ever after, with never an argument or bad day in sight.
And worst of all, she made me think all I needed in life was a man to come and whisk me away.
Time Wasted: Four months, but honestly, two of those were pretty fun.
Lessons Learned:
You have to actually talk to the person to get to know him.
You need to know how to work as well as play. It’s about balance, not having some guy come in and show you how to have fun. Or tell you what an uptight workaholic you are.
Make sure he at least has aspirations or ambitions of some kind.
Never date a guy who thinks you’re more an object than a human being capable of using a brain.
No sports fanatics.
NEVER give your number out at a dance club.