Michelle Celmer - Once Upon A Kiss... - The Cinderella Act / Princess in the Making / Temporarily His Princess

“Hey, Sinclair, do you remember me?” A svelte redhead in a green dress sauntered over, mallet in one hand and drink in the other.

“Of course, Mindy.”

“I hear Diana’s in Greece for the summer.”

Why did people think he’d want to know what his ex-wife was doing? “I imagine that will be good for the Greek economy.”

Mindy laughed. “You’re such a card, Sinclair. And not at all bitter! I love that in a man.”

“I’m glad to see everyone getting along so well.” His mom walked among them, wreathed in smiles and carrying a tray of pastries. “Such a lovely way to spend a summer afternoon.”

“Let me pass those around.” Annie leaped forward and tried to wrest the pastries from his mom’s hand.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His mom waved her away. “You’re a member of our party now and have a far more important role to play.”

Annie glanced nervously at him. As their eyes met, a jolt of raw and unsettling energy flashed between them. He looked away sharply. Why Annie? Why did he have to share steamy, hungry and unfettered sex in the arms of the one woman he’d previously enjoyed an utterly uncomplicated relationship with?

Obviously the gossips were right and he was simply impossible.

Emotionally exhausted from the effort of not looking at Sinclair, while attempting to make polite small talk and to participate in a game she’d never played before, Annie washed and rinsed the serving platters when all she wanted was to crawl into her bed and sob. Earlier, in an uncharacteristic Cinderella moment, she’d become teary-eyed while plating the caterer’s canapés and watching all those beautiful women pulling into the driveway, dressed to impress and woo him. She’d been discovered mid-sniffle by Katherine. Now she was going to have to stage a pretense of using antihistamine drops and sneezing over flowers for the rest of the summer.

“What’s going on between you and Sinclair?”

She almost had a heart attack when she realized Vicki was standing behind her. Had she been muttering to herself? Did she say something about Sinclair?

“Nothing.”

“Goodness, no need to bite my head off.” Vicki reached for a slightly shriveled cheese puff from a nearby plate that had not yet been cleared. “I can see I’ve hit a nerve.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

“Hmm. The color rushing to your cheeks contradicts your words. Don’t tell me you don’t find him attractive, because I wouldn’t believe you. I think he’s gorgeous.” She ate the cheese puff and reached for another. “Handsome and rich. What more could a woman want?”

“Are you asking me a question, or just thinking aloud?” Letting Vicki think she was a mousy pushover didn’t feel like a good idea.

Vicki laughed, tossing back her silky black mane. “Thinking aloud, I suppose. Do you think I’d look good in a wedding picture next to him?” She lifted a slender brow. It was hard to tell if she was joking or not.

The image of her haughty, delicate features next to Sinclair’s sent a fist of hurt to Annie’s heart. “You’d make a very attractive couple,” she said truthfully.

“Shame that isn’t enough, really, is it?” Vicki moved closer and pulled a piece of celery from another platter. Annie wished she could physically shove her out of the kitchen. “Life would be so much easier if you only had to look good together.”

“I suspect Sinclair would agree.” She knew he’d been devastated by the failure of his second marriage. Partly from snippets of conversations she’d overheard, but also by a dramatic shift in his demeanor after his wife left him.

“What happened between him and Diana?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Come on, you’re in the same house.”

“Diana didn’t like Dog Harbor. Too dull. They hardly ever came after they got married.” Though he’d come here a lot afterward, probably to lick his wounds in peace. “I don’t know what they got up to elsewhere.”

“Rather like watching only one story thread on a soap opera.” Vicki leaned one hip against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. She wore a dress of crinkly white parachute fabric that revealed a lot of slender, barely tanned leg. “I bet you wish you could TiVo the rest of the episodes sometimes.”

“I have plenty of other things to keep me busy.” Annie scrubbed at a stubborn grease spot. “What they did was none of my business.”

“I’m not so sure.” Vicki regarded her silently for a moment. “I’d think that since it’s your job to keep Sinclair happy, what he’s up to is your business.”

Annie threw down her sponge. “My job is to keep the house clean and make sure there’s milk in the fridge when he shows up.” Her voice rose, along with frustration and humiliation at being forced to endure Vicki’s inquisition. If they were on neutral territory she could tell her to get lost, or simply walk away. But here, Vicki was a guest of her employer, so she couldn’t.

“Now, now, don’t burst a blood vessel.” Vicki’s eyes were brightening, if anything. “I suspect there’s a lot more to you behind that placid smile.” She studied Annie’s face for a moment, as Annie’s blood pressure rose. “I’ve seen Sinclair looking at you, too.”

“Why wouldn’t he? I’m his employee.” This was almost unbearable. She was lying with one side of her brain, while the other madly considered Vicki’s bold statements. Was Sinclair really looking at her differently? And how would Vicki know? She hadn’t seen him for years. Probably she was just trying to wind her up. “It’s hard to wash these dishes with you distracting me.”

“So leave them. They’re not going anywhere.”

“I can’t. I have to get dinner ready soon and they’ll be in the way.”

Vicki tilted her head to the side. “It can’t be easy slaving away in the kitchen while everyone else reclines on the patio and sips champagne. I think it would drive me half-mad.”

“It’s my job. We all have one.”

“Do we?”

“Sinclair works very hard at his business.”

Vicki’s eyebrow shot up again. “You are loyal. And I’m sure you’re right. In fact, sometimes I wonder if he’d ever do anything else unless someone forced him into it.”

“Is it wrong to enjoy your work?”

“I think it’s ideal.” Vicki frowned.

“Do you work at an auction house?” Annie couldn’t resist asking. She’d been wondering if Vicki had a real job.

“Between you, me and this wilted stalk of celery, I’m between gigs right now.” She took a bite of the celery.

“I suppose you’re independently wealthy.” She rinsed the dish and put it in the rack.

“Something like that.” Vicki shot her a fake smile. “Gotta dash. It’s been interesting chatting with you.” Annie felt herself relaxing as Vicki moved toward the door with her characteristic floaty walk. “And I still think there’s something going on between you and Sinclair.”

The next morning Katherine asked Annie to help her search the attic. Mercifully, Sinclair was out playing golf with a business prospect, but unfortunately Vicki was there, her violet eyes seeming to peer below the surface of every human interaction.

“This set of hunting knives is probably worth something.” Vicki held one of the tarnished blades up to the light. She jotted something in a little notebook. “I could find a home for it if you like.”

Annie frowned. She’d noticed Vicki taking an interest in many of the items. She’d filled quite a few pages with notes.

“That’s probably a good idea. What would we do with them anyway?”

“They’re just moldering away up here.”

“They are part of the Drummond family history.” Annie felt called upon to suggest that Sinclair might want them someday. Of course it wasn’t her place to say that explicitly.