Andrea Bolter - The Prince's Cinderella

Once she was able to stand up straight again, she gestured for him to enter her office and closed the door behind them.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just started today so I haven’t had a chance to set up,” Marie felt compelled to explain. She didn’t want him thinking she was some kind of slob with the boxes and stacks of paper everywhere cluttering up such a nice office. That was a sore spot with her because once people learned about her troubled upbringing, they assumed she was somehow unorganized or nonfunctional. It was always an uphill battle to prove them wrong.

“That’s fine,” Zander dismissed her concern. “This was Jic’s office up until a couple of days ago and it was in the same condition then.”

“Do you know why he left so suddenly?”

“I was expecting you to have the answer to that question.”

“I’m sorry I don’t.”

Marie brushed her bangs to the side and tamped down her hair. She didn’t know why she was nervous around this man, other than that he was the gala chair. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking. Maybe it was that he had an undeniable air of style and class about him. Which was something Marie always admired in people. Traits that she surely knew nothing about, having grown up in whatever was the opposite of grace and refinement .

Wow, Zander de Nellay was tall. Fairly petite herself, Marie had to lean her head back to see his eyes. Although she didn’t like his expression when he looked down at her. Because she imagined he was looking down at her .

And she’d sure as heck had enough of that in her life.

Marie reminded herself that she was projecting that onto Zander. She didn’t know him well enough to be able to read his thoughts on anything, and he didn’t know anything about her. A man like him, chair of a huge charity event, wearer of fine clothes, possessor of a splendid face, probably wasn’t even thinking about how inexpensive Marie’s trousers were or that she needed a haircut.

“Can I offer you a water or a coffee?” Felice had stressed that she was to do everything she could to assist Zander.

“I brought some.” He placed his computer bag onto one of the chairs around the meeting table and pulled out his laptop and a bottle of gourmet sparkling water. “Do you have cups?”

Marie looked around the office she’d not yet had a minute to personalize. Near the telephone was a stack of disposable cups. “It seems I do,” she reported and reached for them.

Zander twisted the cap off the bottle with a flourish Marie couldn’t help but note. When a bit of carbonation from inside was set free, it hissed. Which was exactly how Marie was starting to feel in Zander’s presence. Like she might need to let out some bubbles soon so as not to explode.

After the drinks were poured and Zander had booted up his laptop, they began.

“Why don’t you bring your chair closer and we can work from my screen?” he suggested.

Even though she’d been in the exact same configuration with Felice earlier in the day, sitting next to Zander was another proposition entirely. Her awareness of him was palpable. His entire body emanated warmth. It hadn’t been coming from just his palm when he’d shaken her hand.

Her fists opened and closed involuntarily.

Zander reached in his bag for something else. But when he glanced at what he retrieved, a quick smirk flashed across his face and he stuffed whatever it was back in. A second dig yielded the USB drive he’d been searching for. Naturally, curiosity racked Marie as to what the first item was.

“As I understand it,” he said while reading, “the components are venue, theme, invitations, arrivals. Then there is food and beverages, rentals of tables and chairs, tableware, bar setup, buffets. Flowers, linens, tech, photography, band, auction, speeches and volunteers.”

“The venue is booked and invitations have been sent, according to Jic’s notes.”

“Yes, months ago. Have you seen them?”

“No, I’ve only just started on the job today.”

“There’s no need to make excuses. I was merely asking if you’d seen them.”

“I’m sorry. I hope they’re in one of these boxes.” Marie pointed to the disarray she’d inherited on her desk.

“And no need to apologize.” Zander reached into his bag again and located one of the invitations. He handed it to Marie.

Wants what he wants. Marie reread Jic’s note about Zander. That was fine. Marie was detail oriented, too. That’s how she’d gotten as far as she had in the APCF agency. By learning to be diligent. Not a skill she’d had any example of growing up. Except maybe toward all the wrong things.

The lavender cardstock invitation had all of the basic information. The name of the mansion that had been converted into a party location. The event date and time.

“I thought of these as more of a save the date kind of announcement,” Zander commented. “They have no pizzazz. And they don’t mention the theme.”

“Had a theme been decided on? I don’t see anything about it in my notes.”

“No. And with three weeks to go, it’s rather late in the game to be planning a big theme. But we must. I want this to be one of the most successful benefits of the social season. We have to pull out all of the stops.”

Marie only theoretically understood what Zander was saying. She’d heard of lavish balls in which moneyed guests came dressed as animals or as gangsters from the 1920s. High concepts that were designed to make the evening as impressive as it could be. With the idea that would bring in the highest donations, sponsorships and auction proceeds.

“I’ve only been associated with this organization for a year myself,” Zander said as he scrolled through his files. “Has the annual APCF gala utilized a theme in the past? How big were the previous galas?”

“I don’t know. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can with that information.”

“I understand that the APCF’s invitation list is five hundred. And I’ve added my own personal five hundred. Has the agency hosted a fund-raiser of that size before?”

“I’ll get the answer to that as soon as I can.”

“How do you not know this? Didn’t they brief you?”

“I’m sorry,” Marie started again, but was getting pretty tired of apologizing. “As soon as I gather all of the information, I’ll report back to you.” Felice hadn’t had time to fill her in on the history of the galas and Zander being so on top of everything was very intimidating.

No matter how big an event this was going to be, Marie knew she could get the job done once she had a grasp on it. It was crucial that she show Felice and the other agency bigwigs that she was capable of this position. It was time for her to take a next step up in her career, and this was an unexpected opportunity for her to show what she could do.

Proving naysayers wrong was something she’d spent a lot of her life doing. Frustration crinkled her face when she wondered if she’d ever be finished selling herself to others. Who usually doubted her from the start.

“All right.” Zander made some sort of internal decision and proclamation. He transmitted full authority in every word he said, every gesture he made. Whoever he was other than chairperson for this gala, he was a force to be reckoned with. That’s the kind of person Marie wanted to be. Maybe she could learn something from him. “We need to get you up to speed, and immediately.”

“Yes.”

Zander tapped a number into his phone. “Iris, are you able to manage until this evening?”

Whoever Iris was and whatever she was telling him made him grin. And my, a smiling Zander de Nellay was a sight to behold. No wonder his chairing this gala was such a big deal. That smile could coax a wallet right out of its pocket.