Judy Baer - The Cinderella List

“What about the Cinderella List?” her sister pointed out. “Does a man with your requirements even exist?”

“It was just a game, Jen….” Though Marlo wondered when it had turned into something more in her mind.

Jenny slipped out of the room, and returned some minutes later with a piece of folded white typing paper in her hand. “Here. I jotted this down. Maybe it will clarify things for you.”

What was Jenny up to now?

The Ideal Man According to Marlo Mayfield

Handsome (dark hair preferred)

Good teeth, great smile

Well educated, intelligent

Good manners

Earns a decent living

Looks good in jeans and suits

Thoughtful, compassionate, intuitive

Sense of humor

Faith in God

Could love be far behind?

“Angel” Award-winning author and two-time RITA ®Award finalist Judy Baer has written more than seventy books in the past twenty years. A native of North Dakota and graduate of Concordia College in Minnesota, she currently lives near Minneapolis. In addition to writing, Judy works as a personal life coach and writing coach. Judy speaks in churches, libraries, women’s groups and at writers’ conferences across the country. She enjoys time with her husband, two daughters, three step children and the growing number of spouses, pets and babies they bring home. Judy, who once raised buffalo, now owns horses. She recently completed her master’s degree and accepted a position as adjunct faculty at St. Mary’s University, Minneapolis, MN. Readers are invited to visit her Web site at www.judykbaer.com.

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He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor from the Lord.

—Proverbs 18:22

For Tom, who fulfills all the requirements

for my Prince Charming!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

“Mr. Hammond was very explicit that he wanted us there on time. Successful men are like that.” The catering van took a right turn so sharply that Marlo Mayfield grabbed the handle above her door and hung on tightly. Marlo and her business partner, Lucy Morten, rushed to set up tonight’s catering job.

“Stop signs are not a suggestion, Lucy. They are an order.” Dressed in a pale blue blouse, with a Dining with Divas logo on it, Marlo tentatively let go of the handle and hoped for the best.

She studied the neighborhood through which they were driving. Lucy was right about their client’s success. No one lived in a neighborhood like this without a thriving business, a spot on a professional sports team or a hefty trust fund.

They drove up to a huge, castlelike English Tudor home. Sloping lawns led away from the house toward a maze of low shrubbery and a man-made pond. Statuary fountains of maidens carrying jugs were pouring water into the pool. There were seating-area vignettes scattered around the velvety grass, teak chairs and tables with brightly colored umbrellas and wrought-iron sets decorated with vases of flowers.

This was her dream home, Marlo marveled, the one she’d drawn sketches of in the backs of her notebooks as a child. Of course, in her drawings, a knight in shining armor always stood guard at the front gate. And she’d always depicted herself entering at the front of the house, not the service entrance, where they were headed.

“Are we serving outside? The lawn looks like a movie set.” Marlo expected F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Gatsby and his gang to stroll by any moment.

“No. The party is on the main floor of the house. Not every yard is a lawn ornament graveyard like yours,” Lucy commented absently.

Marlo had inherited a plaster donkey pulling a cart full of fake geraniums, and a windmill that tipped over in every breeze, from her great-aunt Tildy, who didn’t like them well enough to leave them in her own yard.

“You must really love your aunt a lot,” Lucy commented. “I wouldn’t keep that stuff around, even for my own grandmother!”

“She’s like a second mom to me,” Marlo said.

Marlo didn’t mention to Lucy how flattering it had been to be told that she resembled her aunt Tildy when she was young. That was the highest compliment someone in Marlo’s family could receive. Tall, slender, gorgeous, and with a figure anyone in senior living would give a molar to have, Tildy was the classic independent spirit. Marlo, her father often said, was the mirror image of his sister when she was young. Tildy, according to family lore, had more than once literally stopped traffic with her looks.

“Aunt Tildy has flair. She marches to no one’s drummer but her own.”

“She sounds a lot like you.” Lucy spied the door she was looking for and made a sharp left, nearly pitching Marlo into the driver’s seat. Then she slammed the brake to the floor and the van stopped with a shudder by an open wooden door. Ivy crept up the bricks around it and through the screen Marlo could see the stainless steel accoutrements of a professional kitchen.

As they carried the first trays through the open door, Marlo stared at the commercial quality appliances, granite countertops and the glass doors on the Sub-Zero refrigerator.

There were really only five things in life that Marlo longed for—a close relationship with God, a life partner, a successful business, to make a difference in the world—and a kitchen like this one.

But this was no time for daydreams. She immediately began to organize multitiered platters of finger foods, tarts and hot trays for wings and sausage-stuffed mushrooms. Lucy finished the dessert buffet.

“Can you imagine what we could do if we had this kitchen?” she asked rhetorically, not expecting Lucy to answer. “The business we could generate?” She loved making new plans for their catering business. Some worked, some didn’t. Offering a dessert buffet was a hit with their clients. The sushi to go? Everyone loved it. Fiber-rich chocolate cake? Not so much.

She walked across the room to where a series of framed black-and-white photos hung over the banquette in a small sitting area on one side of the kitchen. That and inviting, red, upholstered wing chairs, plush red, black and cream area rugs and stately porcelain horse sculptures seemed to be waiting for the master to arrive home after the hunt. An open Bible—obviously well read—lay on a mahogany end table, a sight that warmed her heart.