Kate Hardy - A Modern Cinderella

‘Malibu or California?’

‘What?’

‘You asked was it weird living here. I asked Malibu or California.’

Oh, yes, that was right. She had done that. ‘California.’

‘Yes.’

She set her things on the counter and lifted a brow. ‘Malibu?’

‘No.’

When light danced across his eyes she knew he was messing with her, so she shook her head. ‘A bowl for this stuff?’

‘Second cupboard on the left, underneath you.’

‘So why was California weird?’ She opened the cupboard and hunched down to look inside.

‘Why don’t you hit me with your first impressions and I’ll tell you if I felt the same way when I got here…’ The sound of doors sliding told her he had moved towards the deck.

By the time she came back up, with a large wooden bowl in hand, he was firing up the outdoor grill. So she found a knife and a chopping board all on her own, while raising her voice to continue the conversation. ‘Way more people, nobody smiles and says hello the way they do at home, hotter, brighter—drier. Nothing as green as you’d see in Ireland. Food’s different, television is different, the cars people drive are different…Some things are familiar, but the vast majority of differences outshadow them…’

Will was smiling yet another small smile as he came back in, the sea breeze outside having created unruly waves in his dark hair that made him look even more boyish than he already did in his simple white T-shirt and blue jeans combo. No one would ever look at the man and put him in his early thirties. Good genetics, Cassidy supposed. His kids would inherit that anti-ageing gene, and the boys would all look like him, wouldn’t they? With dark hair that even when tamed would rebel, with that outward flick at the nape, and green eyes that sparkled with amusement, and the charm of the devil when they wanted something, and—

Cassidy couldn’t believe she was standing in his beautiful house and picturing dozens of mini-Wills standing between them. She’d be naming them next. Maybe her biological clock was kicking in?

‘In other words weird…’

She smiled as she chopped. ‘Okay. Point taken. So why is Malibu different?’

‘It’s not so crowded here. The air’s better.’ He shrugged his shoulders as he turned bottles of wine on a rack to read the labels. ‘Quieter. More private. I’d lived in California long enough by the time I bought this place that it wasn’t so alien to me any more. But this was the first place I felt I could call home.’

‘You don’t see Ireland as home any more?’

‘I see it as where I come from, and a part of who I am, but I have my life in California now.’

Cassidy had known that for a long time. But hearing him say it didn’t make it any easier. It was another thing that highlighted how different they were. Somehow she knew she would always see Ireland as home. She had thirty years’ worth of memories there—not all of them good, granted. But it was the good and the bad that made her who she was—for better or worse. A part of her would always ache for the green, green grass of home if she left it behind. The fact Will had left everything behind without any apparent sense of poignancy made her wonder if he remembered their time together the same way she did. Or remembered that he had said he loved her.

Maybe the harsh truth was he hadn’t. Not the way she had loved him. If he had he would never have left her, would he?

The sound of a cork popping brought her gaze back to him as he set a bottle of red wine on the counter to breathe. But when he reached for deep bowled glasses and she opened her mouth to remind him of the dangers of her errant tongue and alcohol, he surprised her.

‘Why teaching?’ he asked.

She frowned in confusion. ‘What?’

‘Why teaching?’ He turned around and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and studying her with hooded eyes. ‘I don’t remember you ever showing an interest in it when I knew you before.’

Well, no, because when he’d known her she’d still had dreams that felt as if they were within her grasp. Then she’d been given a harsh reality check. She shrugged and tossed the chopped-up salad ingredients in the bowl. ‘Necessity to start with, I guess. I needed a job with a regular wage. If I was going to spend a good portion of my life working, it made sense to me to be doing something I might enjoy…’

‘Do you?’

‘Do I what?’

‘Enjoy it?’

‘I’d enjoy it more if I was better paid.’ She shot him a brief smile, then concentrated on reading the labels on the salad dressings. ‘I like little kids. They think in straight lines. They still believe in magic. Adults get the magic knocked out of them with age. Every day when I spend time with a classroom full of kids, and they do or say or discover something that makes me smile, I get a little of that magic back for a minute.’

When he remained silent, curiosity made her turn her head so she could try and read his expression. He was still staring at her, thick lashes still at half-mast so she couldn’t see his eyes properly. It was disconcerting.

Then he tugged on a ragged corner of her heart with a low, rumbled comment. ‘You used to believe in magic more than anyone I’d ever met…’

Cassidy felt a hard lump forming in her throat, and immediately felt the need to turn her face away, dropping her chin and hiding behind a strand of hair that had escaped from her up do as she tried to open the lid of the salad dressing. ‘Like I said. It gets knocked out of you with age.’

Was this lid cemented on? She pursed her lips and felt the cap digging into her palm as she tried twisting it with a little more force, shifting her shoulder so she was literally putting her back into it, while forcing words out through tight lips at the same time.

‘Just part—of life—that’s all. Nobody’s fault. Or any—’

A large hand settled lightly over her fingers and Cassidy’s chin snapped up. He gently removed the bottle from her hand and opened it with one deft twist of his wrist. Then he held it out for her, warmth shining from his eyes and the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. ‘Borderline babbling again, Malone.’

Sighing heavily, she reached for the bottle. ‘You’re the one in charge of the magic these days—industry of dreams and all that. Maybe I handed on the baton.’

Will’s head lowered closer to hers, his voice dropping an octave. ‘You’re saying I couldn’t make magic back in the day?’ Apparently it was enough to bring one of those smiles her way. ‘I think my ego might be bruised.’

That wasn’t the kind of magic she’d meant. But before she could form a coherent sentence he turned away, lifting the steaks from the counter-top and walking out onto the deck. Leaving Cassidy staring through the glass at him and feeling distinctly confused. Her inability to read him was really starting to bug her.

Once the steaks were on the fancy stainless steel grill he had on the deck, Will closed the lid and came back to the open door, leaning on the frame and studying her before he took a deep breath and asked, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better.’ She smiled before turning to put away everything she hadn’t used. ‘I’ve stayed upright for more than twenty-four hours now—go me.’

‘How do you feel about a trip tomorrow?’

Cassidy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘Where to?’

‘Magic land…’

Leaning forward in her seat on the golf cart, Cassidy couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at her surroundings. It was better than Christmas as far as she was concerned.

‘You want to stop and take a look around?’

Yes! She turned to nod enthusiastically at Will. ‘Please.’