Cinderella Screwed Me Over

Chapter Fifteen

Unable to concentrate on work, I sat at my desk, drumming my fingers along the top of it. I imagined Jake was starting to wonder what he’d gotten himself into with me. I probably shouldn’t have made that joke about punching Karl. Especially since he’d heard the story about me slapping Ralph. But he got that I was kidding, right? I’d even blown him a kiss to show him he was still the guy for me. I mean, if I were choosing guys. Which I…wasn’t? No. Jake and I were free agents, keeping everything light. Still, I wanted to give him a full explanation. If the tables were reversed, I know I’d want one.

I waited until I was sure Jake would be awake and called his cell. The call rolled to voice mail, so I cleared my throat, readying myself to leave a message. “Hey, it’s me.” I hated it when people said that. Most of the time I didn’t know who it was until halfway through the message. “I guess that’s pretty arrogant, assuming you’ll recognize my voice. Or maybe I’m already programmed into your phone. Not that I’m saying…” I wanted to start over. Be calm and collected. “Anyway, it’s Darby. Who else would leave you a rambling message without ever getting to the point? The point is give me a call. If you want to. Last night was crazy, and I just wanted to tell you that—”

A loud beep cut me off.

Awesome. I left a drunken message without the benefit of actually being drunk.

Calling back to finish seemed extra desperate. Especially if he’d been screening me on purpose.

I tossed my phone on my desk and ran my hands over my face. “Urgh. This is why I don’t do relationships.”

My phone chirped and I picked it back up. A text from an unfamiliar number. When I opened it, I saw a picture of Karl. Underneath his eye was a line of purple and red. At least it wasn’t swollen shut.

Thought you’d enjoy this. Everyone at the office sure is. They’re all so confused when I say I got it playing pool. They seem to like “got into a bar brawl because of a girl” much better.

My fingers flew over my keypad.

I think it’s only considered a brawl if two people are involved. You were more like a punching bag for a drunk guy because of a girl.

I hit send, then set down my phone and opened up my files for Mrs. Crabtree. Another chirp caught my attention. Karl had sent a message back.

Yeah, I like my version better. I guess you and I just communicate differently.

I laughed and then sent another message:

I swear I heard this really smart person say that men and women couldn’t communicate very well… I better get to work. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.

I was surprised how much I’d ended up liking Karl by the end of last night. While I knew Stephanie had initially set us up hoping for a romance, that kind of spark wasn’t there. But I thought we might get to be friends eventually. It’d be nice to have him to talk to at all of Anthony and Stephanie’s upcoming wedding events. And even though I still wasn’t totally sold on the marriage counseling thing, he did see a lot of different types of couples, and it gave me hope that he thought Anthony and Stephanie would make it. Regardless of my jaded stance on forever love, I really wanted them to be one of those couples who defied the odds.

And if they can make it… I thought of Jake, the way I seemed to be doing more often than not lately. I could feel a glimmer of hope trying to wedge its way into my heart, whispering that maybe this time, it could actually be different.

Don’t do it. Hope only leads to depression.

But it was already giving me that warm, light feeling. Steph was right. I didn’t want to miss the puppy-love phase.

I wanted to dive in and enjoy it.

Patricia charged into my office, dousing all the happy vibes with her stern expression. “Did you and Nadine land that account yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Then where’s the contract? I don’t have it yet.”

I was pretty sure Nadine had it, but not 100 percent sure, so this was one of those lose-lose moments, where no matter what I said, it made me look like I didn’t know what was going on. “I’ll get right on it.”

She stared at me for long enough that it became uncomfortable, then sighed in that I-work-with-idiots way. I had a feeling that this was going to be a long day.

…

I shifted my bag of groceries to the other hand and dug through my purse to get my ringing phone. I glanced at the display. Jake.

“You just wanted to tell me what?” Jake said when I answered.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Your message. It cut out.”

I readjusted my groceries and my cell phone slipped from my shoulder and clattered to the floor. Instead of dropping everything, I set my groceries in front of my door and picked my phone back up, relieved to see my case and screen were still intact. “Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, I dropped my phone. Anyway, I guess I owe you a story. What are you doing tonight?” Work was extra crappy today, and I wanted nothing more than to kick back with Jake and forget about everything else for a while.

“Things are crazy here at Blue, so I’ll be working even later than usual.”

I wasn’t sure if he was brushing me off. “Okay. Well, good luck with that.”

A loud banging noise came across the line, accompanied by yelling. Someone next to Jake wasn’t happy with whatever was going on. “Another problem just came up. I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, then.” I hung up and frowned at my groceries. It seemed like I’d made a big deal about a relationship that wasn’t even happening. My heart sank. Had I read him wrong? He did sound busy, and maybe that was all it was. I was just taking it harder because of the stress at work—that had to be it.

Stupid hope. I knew it’d bite me in the butt if I let it slip in.

I unlocked my door and picked up my bag. I wouldn’t let myself start analyzing or stare at the phone, waiting for him to call. I’d invited him to hang out, and he’d declined.

Ball’s in his court now.

…

First thing Wednesday morning, Nadine and I headed to Barbara Covington’s house to start our new project. Nadine pulled her car up in front of the wrought-iron gate and glanced at the house. “Whoa.”

“Whoa is right,” I said. “So that’s what fifteen thousand square feet looks like. I think living all by yourself in a house that big would just accentuate the lonely.”

“No kidding.” Nadine rolled down her window and announced that we were here to see Ms. Covington. A moment later, the gate swung open and Nadine drove through. “I’ve been chatting with a nice guy online, and I think we might meet up this weekend. I’m telling you, the Help From Cupid site is really good. You’d be surprised by how many good-looking eligible men you find.”

She’d wanted me to join this online dating site with her a few months ago. The last guy she had met had been close to a perfect match, but after a couple of months things fizzled, so she was trying again. Which always led to her wanting me to try again, too. “Come on,” she said, pulling her car up to the house. “When’s the last time you went on a date that wasn’t awful?”

“Sunday, actually.”

Nadine whipped her head toward me. “You’re dating someone? Dish.”

“I’m not really dating him. It’s Jake.”

“I knew it! I knew there was something going on between you two.”

I leaned back in my seat and sighed. “I’m not sure if anything’s going on between us anymore. I’m…I’m not sure what we’re doing.” He hadn’t called, and I was starting to think our whatever was already over. Which sucked, not only because I now felt the need to avoid Blue, but also because I really had enjoyed spending time with him.

Moving on. “Let’s go see what we’ve got to work with.”

Ms. Covington ushered Nadine and me inside. The place looked like no one lived there, the walls and floors completely bare. Still, the bare bones were beautiful: vaulted ceilings, a staircase that twisted up to the top floor, and giant windows facing the mountains.

“I just told them to get rid of all of it,” Barbara said as she gave us the tour. “Let him deal with that stuffy old furniture. I know this little place we should go for lunch, and then I’ll swing you by my friend’s house and show you some of the things she’s done that I love.”

We followed Barbara to her three-car garage and got into her BMW 7-series. The entire drive, Barbara talked. About redecorating; about starting over; about how her husband was already looking for a new, younger model. “You see, in my first marriage, I was a fool for the man. He had no money, but I thought our love would be enough. When our daughter was two, I found out he’d been unfaithful. After that, I knew I needed a way to support myself and my daughter…”

And on she went about her other husbands all through lunch, and all while we toured her friend’s place. She hadn’t loved husband number two, but he was wealthy; three she’d had lukewarm feelings for—he was even wealthier; and number four was a fairy-tale beginning, including being flown to other countries.

By the time I’d heard all about her many men, I felt like I never wanted to deal with one again. If I was pessimistic, Barbara was the eternal pessimist. Yet she managed to find optimism in her pessimism. Her philosophy seemed to be: “If life hands you husbands who don’t work out, make millionaire-ade.”

At the end of the day, as Nadine and I drove away from Barbara’s, I said, “Take it back.”

Nadine furrowed her brow. “Take what back?”

“That I’m anything like Barbara. That’s not my philosophy on love. It’s so depressing.”

“Your philosophy is pretty depressing, too. At least she makes money off it.”

“You’re jumping on the gold-digger idea now?”

Nadine laughed. “No. I don’t really think she’s as happy and chipper as she claims. She just talks like that to make it seem like she’s in control. No one wants to feel like they don’t have power.” She pulled onto the freeway. “It’s like those people who claim they’re anti-marriage because they really want to get married, but no one’s asked them.”

I groaned. “This is getting worse and worse.”

“I’m not talking about you,” Nadine said. “You had your chance to get married and you turned it down. Twice.”

“Not twice.”

“I bet he would’ve asked if you would’ve—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I let out a long breath. “All those stories Barbara told, that’s why I don’t want to get married. I’m wondering if she had them all fooled. They all thought she loved them, but she just loved their money.”

“Now we get to love their money, too. This project’s going to be hard, but we’ll be getting fat commissions.”

My phone rang. I dug it out and looked at the display. It was Jake.

I’d wanted to talk to him so badly for three days, but after spending the afternoon with Barbara, I was grouchy and back to feeling like relationships were all crap. If I talk to him right now, there’s a good chance I’ll screw up everything.

Not willing to risk it, I sent the call to voice mail. Nadine’s comment about my missed chances at marriage dug at me, my heart squeezing as I thought about how I’d let hope seep in, only to be crushed again.

No hope was sad, but having it was dangerous. I suppose the real question was would I be better or worse off in the end?