Cindi Madsen: Cinderella Screwed Me Over

Nick frowned. “I think you’d change your mind if you got into it.”

Obviously, he didn’t think my jokes were funny—it wasn’t the first time I’d said the wrong thing, and I doubted it’d be the last. At least I knew to not add any more to the golfing conversation. I needed someone I could at least joke with, though, or there was no point in putting effort into going out. Sorry, Mom, but looks like it’s not gonna be a love match.

Nick tossed his napkin onto his plate and pulled one of those flossers out of his pocket—the plastic, Y-shaped thing you thread floss through. I watched in horror as he proceeded to take care of business.

So I ask you, what’s worse? A little something between the teeth or flossing at the table? I’m casting my vote for the table. If you must use the floss that’s been in your pocket gathering lint, take it to the bathroom and go to town. Because digging meat out of your teeth is just something I don’t want to see.

“Shall we go, then?” he asked a teeth cleaning later.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The ride home was filled with talk of golf and instrumental music. Being around this guy made me feel tired and boring and blah. When we pulled up to my building, I fought the urge to run for it. “Thanks for dinner.”

“So…” He leaned toward me.

No way he expects a kiss.

On the bright side, at least I know his teeth have been flossed recently.

“I’ve got a huge presentation first thing tomorrow morning, so good night.” I grabbed the door handle and exited the car. I purposely didn’t use the “see you later” line, because I was hoping there wouldn’t be a later. I’d had more than enough.

I’d lied to Nick last night. I didn’t have a presentation this morning. Actually, I was working from home because I had to meet Stephanie later to get my bridesmaid dress altered. Since it’d always been on the tighter side, I decided to go run off last night’s dinner.

I gathered my hair into a messy bun, grabbed a bottle of water, turned on my iPod, and headed downstairs to work out.

The exercise room was pretty empty, so I didn’t have to wait around for a treadmill. As I ran, I went over my projects in my head. I mentally rearranged the furniture in Mrs. Crabtree’s living room, mixed color schemes, and played with the few items she’d purchased at a gallery in California.

Three miles later, I wiped my face with a towel and took a big swig from my water bottle. I stepped off the treadmill, thinking about all I had to do that day. And came face-to-face with Jake.

“I thought that was you,” he said.

I tugged the earphones out of my ears and blinked, hardly able to believe my eyes. He was wearing long mesh shorts and a T-shirt that stretched tight across his well-defined chest.

Last night after my date, when I’d had trouble falling asleep, I’d thought of all the things I should say to him the next time we ran into each other. But they’d abandoned me somewhere around the time I’d checked out his pecs.

“W-what are you doing here?” Smooth, Darby. Real smooth.

“Same thing as you,” he said. “Going for a run.”

I really wished I wasn’t so sweaty. My face was probably all red, too. “But… You don’t live here? In this building?”

One corner of Jake’s mouth twisted up. “It would be kind of strange for me to go running here if I didn’t live here.”

Heat filled my cheeks and I took another swig from my water bottle. Time for the apology. Then maybe I could stop feeling so guilty and get this guy off my mind. “Look, I’m sorry about the misunderstanding at the restaurant. I just thought you were one of those guys who tells everyone he owns the restaurant or runs the company or whatever to seem impressive. I thought that since I knew everyone, you were lying to try to impress me.”

There. I’d apologized. Now I could move past this guy and get back to my normal life.

“I was trying to impress you, but not with my job.” He tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his shorts and shrugged. “I guess I need to work on my skills, because obviously my natural rugged charm wasn’t enough.” He flashed me a smile to punctuate his statement and I tried—and failed—not to let it melt me the tiniest bit.

“Oh, you were plenty charming. Just not enough to make up for being a liar. Which for all I know, you’re not, so again, sorry.”

“Do you always assume the worst in people?”

I crossed my arms. “Yes. That way I’m never disappointed. It saves a lot of time and trouble.”

His eyebrows shot up and his smile faded. It only lasted a moment; then the smile returned. “I guess there’s only one thing to do about that. Let’s go to dinner, and I’ll prove to you I’m not a liar.”

Is he seriously asking me out right now, while I’m all sweaty and makeup-free? My gaze accidentally drifted to his toned chest and arms. My pulse quickened and the temperature in the room climbed even higher. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.

I swallowed, forcing from my mind thoughts of how good he’d look shirtless, and reminding myself of the rules that had kept me heartbreak-free for a year. Guys like Nick, they were safe. The guy standing in front of me was the total opposite. “Sorry, but you’ve got two strikes against you already. You work at my favorite restaurant, and you live in my building. That’s just asking for trouble.”

Jake took a step closer. “Or maybe it’ll be convenient.”

“A girl does like to be called convenient.” My voice shook a little, thanks to his proximity. He was tall, too—in my sneakers, I barely came to his shoulder, which meant he’d still have a few inches on me in my highest heels. Forcing as much indifference into my expression as I could manage, I glanced at my watch. “I’ve got to go get some work done.”

Jake reached out and put his hand on my hip, just like he’d done the other night. My skin heated under his touch and my breath caught in my throat. Part of me was screaming, Just go for it , and the other part was yelling, Mayday, mayday, we’re going down!

“Just so you know,” he said, leaning close enough his chest bumped my arm, “I’m an expert on baseball, and two strikes isn’t enough to get out. You need three.”

I stared up into those startling blue eyes of his, and worked at keeping my voice steady. “I’m sure the third will come up soon.”

The wattage on his smile kicked up a couple extra notches. “I’ll see you around, Darby.”

…

“I think you should go out with him,” Stephanie said after I’d relayed the story. The woman tailoring my dress tugged on the pale pink fabric and I almost fell over.

“He lives in my building, Steph. I can’t go out with him.”

“So? I say you go for it anyway.”

I shook my head. “Not gonna happen. You remember what happened to Evan and me. That was awkward forever. I swore that I’d never date someone who lived in my same building ever again.”

Stephanie pointed at my hem. “I think an inch higher,” she said and then looked back up at me. “All I’m saying is you seem to be getting all worked up over this guy. You admitted you think he’s smokin’ hot, and he asked you out again, even though you shot him down once and called him a liar. You’ve got to admire his determination.”

“It’d be admirable if he didn’t live in my building and work at my favorite restaurant.” I groaned when I realized I’d have to avoid Blue. “Where am I going to eat now?”

Stephanie’s cell rang and she held up a finger.

As she talked on the phone, I thought about Jake again. The way he’d smiled at me, how he’d implied he still had another strike left, the way he said he’d see me around. Okay, he’d gotten to me. But all I had to do to snap back to reality was remember what happened with Evan. Back then I’d lived in an apartment complex. After things went sour with him, I had to find a new place to live.