Cynthia surveyed the arena. There was less than an hour until guests began arriving and if she wasn’t mistaken, everything was in place.
I did it.
Butterflies danced inside her, echoing the glimmering lights casting a soft, flickering light over the arena, thanks to the lanterns Maddie had ordered. The tables were dressed with a combination of burlap, raffia and lace, not what Cynthia envisioned, but it had turned out lovely.
We did it, she corrected.
“The lights are perfect,” she told her sister. “All the decorations are perfect.”
“Told you the lanterns would work, didn’t I?” Maddie buffed her nails casually on the bodice of her top. She looked wonderful in a floor-length skirt and matching sleeveless crop-top. “I’m kind of amazing, if I say so myself.”
“Let’s not forget who nearly killed herself hanging them,” said Cynthia, nudging her.
“Details, shmetails.”
It had been a hair-raising task, moving the ladder from one rafter to the next, but the effect was so worth it. And having Chad hold her around the thighs hadn’t been a huge hardship, she had to admit.
Chad.
The last week had been such a whirlwind, they hadn’t spent a moment alone together, which was probably just as well. The kissing had been a mistake. He needed all her energy on this night and he’d probably realized that she was more affected by him than he intended.
Well, she’d warned him, hadn’t she? Oil and water. Playboy and wallflower. She didn’t do casual and he only did casual.
Except tonight she wasn’t going to be a wallflower.
She crossed her arms, running her palms lightly up and down her bare arms.
“Cold?” asked Maddie.
“Excited, I guess.”
“You should be. Wait until Chad sees you.”
Cynthia froze.
“Muh-muh-Maddie-”
“Oh, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” Maddie laughed. “I say go for it.”
Which broke the spell nicely.
“I’ll have you know,” she informed her, “I’m not ‘going for’ anything.”
“We’ll see.”
Cynthia liked her better in her whiny-baby mode. Thoughtful, observant Maddie was too close to the truth for comfort.
Oh, she was wearing the backless dress. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever had on. Part of her was excited at the risk of revealing the length of bare skin that she had to admit, looked very nice. Anyway, she had a sparkling pashmina that would keep her moles safely covered, if she wanted.
If she wanted.
She felt a dark thrill at the thought of letting Chad see those moles, see a different side of her, that there was more to her than everyone thought. He thought he was fascinated by a girl who didn’t exist?
Well, what if she did?
The thrill faded. All she’d prove is that once upon a time, she’d been an idiot, a drunk teenage girl that no one had ever noticed, trying for once to get a little attention.
Face it, Cynthia. You don’t want him to know.
Maybe it was best to let Chad keep his illusion. He had a mystery girl who’d appeared and disappeared, maybe real, maybe not and because he’d never know, she could remain perfect in his mind.
His dreamgirl wouldn’t disappoint him.
Imaginary lovers, like the old song said, never turned you down.
Satisfaction guaranteed.
How could reality ever compare?
“You’ve done a wonderful job, girls,” said Joanie, coming up behind them. She put one warm arm around Cynthia, the other around Maddie. “I’m so proud of you both.”
“It’s like a dream,” said Maddie, lifting her face to the twinkle lights set up around the podium. “Magical.”
“Magical,” agreed Cynthia.
She went to the main table to adjust a vase of fresh flowers. What would it hurt if, just for one night, she let herself believe? This was a benefit fundraiser for Logan Stafford, of course, but it kind of was her night too, as Maddie had told her. Maybe she deserved to let the magic in, to twirl around in her fancy dress and dance.
A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped.
“So,” said Chad, handing her a glass of champagne. “What do you think, now that it’s all coming together?”
He looked... amazing. The tips of his hair were damp and curling. His tailored tux fit like a glove, his shoulders wider than she’d thought, his legs lean and strong and on his feet, beautifully tooled, polished cowboy boots she’d never seen him wear before.
She could smell his cologne or maybe it was just the scent of his soap or shampoo.
He was standing close and she was suddenly aware of the thinness of her pashmina and the wide expanse of bare skin beneath.
“I probably shouldn’t start just yet.” He hadn’t given her a Chad’s Kiss, she noticed. She looked around for Maddie, but she was limping over to greet Austin and Melinda. Eric and Leda were at another table, chatting with other guests.
At the moment, she and Chad were alone.
“Life’s short,” he said. “You’ll probably forget once everything gets underway. I’d hate for you to miss out.”
Story of her life.
She took a sip, savoring the way the bubbles danced on her tongue.
“Hm,” she said. “Champagne tastes the way excitement feels.”
“Well said.” Chad tipped his glass toward her. His eyes were dark, intense. “And well done. You’ve transformed this place. You’re a marvel, Cynthia. I hope you know it.”
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “I had lots of help.”
“You were handed a crap sandwich, Cynthia. Don’t pretend it’s filet mignon.”
She started at the quiet vehemence in his voice. “Wuh-what?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” He tossed back his drink, then set the glass onto a nearby table. “Being positive and upbeat? My teeth hurt sometimes, being around you. I know you love your stepsisters but honest to God, do you not see how they use you?”
“No.” She alone was allowed to diss her sisters. Not him. “I love them. And they love me.”
“Of course you do.” Chad shook his head impatiently. “I love my brother, too, but doesn’t mean I don’t wish he’d settled elsewhere, now and again.”
“Oh.” So they did have this in common.
“I doubt there are many women who think of you only as Eric’s brother,” she said, finishing off her wine. She was feeling a little lightheaded. She probably ought to have waited until she’d eaten something.
“Is that so?” Chad took her glass from her and stepped nearer. “How about you?”
She blinked. He was really close now, close enough that if she wanted, she could touch that muscle jumping in his jaw.
“How about me, what?”
“Am I just Eric’s brother to you,” he said, his voice gravelly, “or am I something else?”
He lifted a finger and moved a strand of hair off her cheek.
“We tuh-talked about this, Chad,” she managed. “We’re friends. You’re a cuh-cuh-client.”
“A client.”
He took a step closer, forcing her to back up. But she was at the edge of the arena, against the rails. She felt the raw wood against her back. There was nowhere to go. Her heart started thumping.
What was he doing?
“Is that all?” he whispered, trailing his finger under her hair, near her ear, over her throat.
She couldn’t move. Shivers wracked her. Anxiety fought with anticipation, deep inside her, making her speechless.
She wasn’t the kind of woman men like Chad went for. They wanted flashy, flirty, quick-witted, smart-mouthed women like Maddie and DeeDee and Leda Plett. Girls who thought on their feet instead of putting them in their mouths.
“The job’s over,” said Chad, touching her jaw ever so lightly with his lips. “And friendship’s not working. For either of us.”
Her diaphragm did a weird, shuddery thing and she didn’t even bother trying to speak. He was kissing her. Again.
Kissing her. Again.
“I thought I was looking for something,” he continued, murmuring against her skin. “Someone, rather. To prove a point. To break a fantasy. But you’ve cured me, Cynthia. Instead of the imaginary girl I’ve been looking for – I know, ridiculous, isn’t it? – I’ve found someone completely... real.”
He punctuated the word with a light kiss on the lips. She was gripping the board fence behind her so tightly her fingers hurt.
She closed her eyes and forced her throat to make words.
“Wuh-wuh-what are you duh-doing?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Cynthia and I don’t know why.”
She opened her eyes.
“It’s amazing,” he continued. “You’re nothing like my usual type.”
Oh no.
“When I saw your stepsisters,” he said, “I was blinded. Temporarily. They probably have that effect on a lot of men.”
Words started to sizzle in her throat, lots of them. She started to shake.
Once, she thought. Just once, I want it to be about me. Isn’t that how the conversation had started?
No, she realized. It had been about him. All about him.
Not her at all.
“All my life, I think I’ve been chasing the wrong ones, blinded by surface stuff like-”
She smacked him in the chest with both hands. “Beauty? Talent? Sexual allure?” No problem with the words now. “Tell me how you really feel, Chad. I can take it. Cinderella, Cinderella. You can dress her up, but you know at the end of the night, she’s going back to the plain old scullery maid she always was.”
Rage, fuelled by a hurt she couldn’t have imagined, bubbled up out of her.
“I get it, baby. You’ve no idea how well I understand, Chad, brother-of-Eric. The second the Cash girls showed up in my life, my popularity skyrocketed. Guys flocked around me. Why? Because I was their in. The pre-game show. The appetizer before the main event. Never, never, the one they actually wanted to talk to.”
Then, to her utter horror, she got something in her eye.
Karma really was a bitch.
“Oh, ow!” she cried, putting a hand to her face.
“Cynthia?” said Chad.
“Stay back! This isn’t some ploy to get you closer. I actually have, ow, something in my eye. A freaking timber, by the feel of it.”
Tears were running down her face. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Stand still,” he said.
She wrenched away. “No!”
“Stand still!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her against the fence with his hips. “Quit being such a drama queen.”
Drama queen?
“I believe,” she panted, “you’ve got me confused – oh, it hurts so much – with my sisters.”
One hand held her head still. With the other, he gently pried her eye open. “It’s a log, all right.”
“Get it out, get it out, get it out!”
Her eye was a skinless grape, hooked by a scorpion in a fruit-bob from Hell. She struggled to claw at her face, to yank out the orb and end it all but he had her hands pinned, too.
Suddenly, relief.
“There.” Chad stepped back. He held out his finger. She squinted and saw a tiny, blurry brown splinter at the end of it. A speck, really.
“Oh, my goodness.” She swallowed. Her vision was swimming, her make-up must be a disaster, her eye was sore, and she hadn’t forgotten the things he’d said about her.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” said Chad. “And this time, you’re going to kiss me back.”
Before she had a chance to respond, his mouth was on hers. No light, tender touch, this time his kiss was crushing, possessing, demanding. Her knees went weak and she clung to him, kissing back by instinct, because there was no choice.
And just as suddenly, it was over. He stepped back.
“You want to be insulted by me, then fine.” His breath was coming as fast and hard as hers was. “Be insulted. But understand this. For years, I was looking for a woman who it turns out, doesn’t exist, probably the product of a horny young kid’s imagination. You are unlike any woman I’ve ever met before, Cynthia. You are not what I’ve been looking for. And you’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m nowhere near your ideal man.”
She put a hand to her chest. The kiss had blown everything out of her head, all the outrage, all the hurt, all the fear, leaving her with something unexpected, almost unrecognized.
Hope.
He took another step backward. “We are totally unsuited. I get that. So explain to me then, why I can’t stop thinking about you? And why this,” he gestured between the two of them, “feels so damn good? Because I can’t make sense of it.”
As the line of guests entering the arena grew, he turned and left, his footsteps falling softly on the fresh wood chips.
She snuck out behind the corrals and ran for the washroom, hoping she could repair the damage to her face and her composure before anyone saw her.
But she couldn’t help it. In the dim corner, mere feet away from a room full of twinkling lights and soft music and magic, she sank to her heels, put her face in her hands and wept.
And she wasn’t even sure why.