Cindi Madsen: Cinderella Screwed Me Over

“Wait.”

I glanced back at him.

He leveled those dangerous blue eyes on me. “Could I take you to dinner sometime?”

I motioned around. “Like, here? In this lovely restaurant you own?”

“Wherever you want,” Jake said. “It doesn’t have to be here.”

“I’m going to have to pass. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve really got to get back.” Before he could say anything else, I turned and walked away from the best-looking guy that had ever hit on me.

It’s such a shame he’s a liar. Otherwise, I might’ve been tempted. And I haven’t been tempted in a long time.

Our food was at our table by the time I got back. Steph was even off the phone. “Where did you disappear to?” she asked.

I slid into my seat. “I was walking back from dropping a note off to Brent and my shoe got caught. This guy got it out for me.”

Steph grinned. “Did he slip it on for you, too?”

“No. I did that.” I picked up my fork, ready to devour my dinner. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“It’s just funny that the girl who is so anti-fairy tale had her shoe rescued by a guy. It’s very Cinderella .”

“The guy was definitely cute and charming. But he claimed he owned this place, making him a liar.”

“Maybe he wasn’t lying.”

“Steph, I’ve never seen him before and I eat here all the time. And I happen to know Brent, who actually owns the place. So, yeah, the very handsome guy’s a liar. And ever since Allen, I have a strict no-liars policy.”

“Liars are the worst,” Steph said.

I lifted my glass, ready to recommit myself to what I’d come here to celebrate. “To male sobriety.”

…

Being burned time and time again takes an emotional toll on a girl. I’d know. After my last failed relationship, I called Steph, like I always did, and she came over for calorie splurging, guy bashing, and binge drinking. Over pizza, Steph and I rehashed our worst relationships.

The next afternoon, I got the idea to lay out all my relationships, so I’d avoid making the same mistakes. Since fairy tales were partially responsible for my messy love life, I’d drawn parallels to my failed relationships.

The first of my case studies demonstrates why I never date liars—even charming ones.

Aladdin Case Study: Allen/Aladdin

My Age: 22

You know in Aladdin how he’s all charming and you’re rooting for him, even though he’s been lying to Jasmine the whole time? He comes in, says he’s a prince, and you think, okay, he had his reasons. He even tells her to “trust him.” Well, people do have their reasons for lying. It doesn’t make it okay, though.

Allen and I met at a cocktail bar. I was there with my coworkers, celebrating the end of a project. At the time, I’d had a few heartbreaks but was still optimistic about love. After all, this was the stage in my life when guys were supposed to be different—more mature.

Allen smiled at me from across the room. He was older, which made him more interesting to me. Feeling bold—thanks to the strong cocktails—I walked over and introduced myself. He and I chatted for hours. It was like everyone else in the room had disappeared.

“Twenty-two, huh?” he said after I’d told him my age. He studied me for a minute, then reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I wish I would’ve met you back when I was twenty-two.”

“Instead, you met me now. I don’t really think age makes much of a difference.” I dug into my purse and found a card for Metamorphosis Interior Designs, where I was doing my apprenticeship, and scribbled my number on the back. I wasn’t usually so forward, but I hadn’t met a guy I’d liked in a while. “Give me a call sometime.”

Three weeks went by before he called. After talking on the phone for an hour, he asked me out.

Enter the magic carpet. Or in Allen’s case, a red Dodge Viper. Showy, yes. Fast, yes. Impressive, very. It didn’t fly, but it came pretty damn close.

Allen opened the passenger door for me and I slid inside, taking in the smell of the leather seats as I studied the gauges. My stepbrothers had taught me enough about cars to be impressed.

“So,” I said as he got into the driver’s seat, “let me guess. You boost cars for a living.”

Allen grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. “I’m an Oral and Maxillofacial Surgeon.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It pays the bills.” Allen started the car and zoomed away from my apartment. “I was thinking we’d head up to Boulder. It gives me a chance to drive on the freeway, and there’re some nice places to eat there.”

“I’m game.” The fact he wanted to spend extra time with me seemed promising.

The night only got better from there.

Allen was thirty. He was different from all the other guys I’d dated in college. In fact, the whole relationship was quite the ride. Sometimes he couldn’t seem to get enough of me; sometimes he’d ignore me for a few weeks. After three months of trying to figure him out, I finally lost it.

“Look,” I said over dinner, my irritation now at a boiling point. “I know that no girl thinks of herself as clingy, but I’m really not. If you need some space, whatever. But I’m tired of the hot and cold. I never know when you’re going to be sweet or when you’ll decide that I don’t exist.”

Allen set down his fork and placed his hand on my knee. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…I’m a little embarrassed about my current situation. I’m staying with some friends, trying to get my life together. That’s why I always suggest your place.” He sighed. “I know I probably should’ve brought it up sooner, but I went through a really messy divorce last year. No matter what I did, it was never good enough for my wife. The money, my job. I was never good enough.”

He shook his head, pressing his lips together, and his voice came out strained. “I like you, and I feel myself getting really attached, and then I worry I’m never going to be good enough. So I throw myself into work.” He squeezed my knee and flashed me a smile. “Then I start thinking about you and call again. We have a great time, and the cycle repeats. I wish I could just forget about my past and stay in the perfect moments with you.”

I was happy he felt close enough to open up to me. “I think you’re good enough. I think you’re amazing, actually. Instead of ignoring me, just tell me what’s going on.” I looked up, into his eyes. “Cool?”

His posture relaxed and he nodded. “Okay. It might take me some time to readjust, though. Please just be patient with me.”

I walked away from that dinner feeling confident. His confession explained a lot. After that, he’d send a text saying he was thinking of me but was hanging with the guys. Or he had training. Sometimes an emergency surgery came up.

It always started with, Wish I had more time , or Wish I could be with you right now, but…

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, Wow, she’s a moron . But I was young and naive, and I tended to believe people back then. I didn’t match the sob story with the fact that we always headed to a different town. At the time, I wasn’t even bothered by not knowing where he lived. I thought it was endearing how much he wanted to impress me.

One day, I decided to surprise him. To let him know how much I cared by showing up at his office. Because he often called me on his break, I knew he took lunch at twelve thirty. Most of the time I had client lunches, so I was especially excited to sneak in an extra hour with Allen.

His dental practice was in one of those older brick buildings with lots of medical offices inside. I took the elevator to the third floor and pulled open the door that had a Dr. Allen Booth plaque on it. The waiting room was empty except for chairs and magazines.