Alice in Glass Slippers Page 6

  Smiling knowingly, Lewis handed her a clean napkin. “Whatever you say, Alice.”

  ***

  Aside from Brittany’s excited squawking of, “I saw Adam in Tiffany’s, Mother!” the next few days were relatively quiet. Mimi was rarely in the store, and when she was, she was too distracted with Brittany’s love life, or her prospective love life, to give Alice much additional work.

  It was rather a relief, actually.

  “Where is that man?” Brittany demanded of no one in particular as she jerked her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “He’s supposed to be right here, with me!” Alice’s eyes caught Whitney’s and they smiled in a friendly sort of way at each other, listening as Brittany stomped through the back entrance and left in a huff.

  “Where’s your mom?” Alice didn’t really care where she was, but if she was going to do something about that infernal music blaring through the store, she wanted to be sure Mimi was gone for the day.

  Whitney shrugged. “I don’t know. She told us this morning that she’d be away all weekend and we were to take care of things here.”

  “Oh.” To hide her surprise, Alice opened the back door to let some cool air inside. It was early April, so there was still snow on the ground, but after spending an entire day inside a too-warm store, the cold air felt good in her lungs. “Where’s your car?”

  When Whitney didn’t answer right away, Alice glanced over at her. “I called a taxi to pick me up later,” she said, avoiding Alice’s eyes. “I’ll unload these boxes, and you go out front and take care of the customers.” She shot Alice a rare, genuine smile. “You’re much better with people than I am, anyway.”

  Maybe I should invite Whitney over to the house for ice cream, Alice mused as she turned the loud music off and replaced it with one of her original ‘The Glass Slipper’ CDs. She certainly seems like she could use a friend.

  Standing in the middle of the shop, Alice closed her eyes and listened to Louis Armstrong croon about building dreams. She could almost–almost–imagine that the past year had never happened. That when she opened her eyes again, the walls would no longer be neon green and her beautiful mother would be fussing with the window display.

  She smiled to herself and, eyes still closed, turned in a slow circle, letting her skirt flutter around her knees. She sung aloud to the song playing. When she opened them, she was looking straight into the thoughtful face of Adam Wentworth.

  Alice cleared her throat and ran a hand over her hair to make sure her ponytail was still intact. “Hello, Adam,” she said in a calm voice.

  “Hello, Alice.” Adam rested his hip against a chair and regarded her. “I like this music much better.”

  “Me, too,” she sighed, letting the dreamy expression creep over her face.

  “It fits you better than that other… stuff.”

  Alice took a deep breath and wrenched herself back into the present. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m forgetting my manners. Can I help you?”

  Adam eased his body upright again and cleared his throat. “I’m here for another pair of shoes. The other ones are wonderful,” he added hurriedly, “but I find that I need another one. Brown, perhaps.”

  Can my eyebrows get any closer to the top of my head? Alice thought even as she bent down to rummage through her secret stash in the cupboard. “Brown?” she called over her shoulder. “I don’t know if I have anything in your size.”

  Adam didn’t look bothered at all. “That’s okay,” he said easily. “I’m not going anywhere. Can you order them?”

  She blinked at him. “Of course. Do you know what you want?”

  Stepping closer to her, Adam’s eyes flashed. “Yes, I do, but you won’t do anything to help me.”

  Somehow Alice was sure she was missing something. “I’ll order your shoes,” she told him, a little confused. “But they probably won’t be here for a few days. I can try to–”

  Adam smiled that astonishing smile of his. “That wasn’t what I was referring to,” he said, and his smile softened when she finally tilted her head back so she could see his face properly. “I was talking about dinner plans. I wish you’d reconsider.”

  He looked so earnest that Alice’s mouth opened almost automatically to say that not only would she love to have dinner with him, but also they could stop by the church on the way home and get married. “Come on,” he coaxed, smiling confidently. “You know you want to.”

  The mouth that had been about to pledge undying love and devotion snapped shut. He must be one of those snakes that charms its prey before it gets swallowed up whole, she thought, blinking rapidly to clear her head. “You know I want to,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest, “but I don’t.”

  Adam’s smile faltered. “Sure you do,” he insisted, although his tone was not quite as assured as it had been only seconds before. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  Alice regarded him in silence. He had the looks, the bank account–she was guessing here, but hadn’t Brittany said something about him being super rich?–and the winning smile that most women coveted. He also had an amazingly large ego.

  “I don’t think you’re my type,” she said finally.

  Now Adam looked affronted. “I’m everyone’s type.”

  For the first time in her life, Alice laughed at a man to his face. And Adam Wentworth didn’t like it at all. “Will you listen to yourself?” she asked, shaking off the feeling that she was repeating the same words Lewis had said to her. “You’re everyone’s type?”

  Adam had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Well, maybe not everyone’s,” he muttered defensively. “Are you telling me no? Again?”

  That made Alice pause. “I don’t know,” she said, tilting her head back to see him better. How had he managed to get so close to her? She wondered idly. “I usually make it a point to go out with any guy that asks once, no matter who he is, but…”

  Adam must have seen something in her face, because he pounced on her last statement. “I’m a guy,” he reminded her unnecessarily, “and you haven’t gone out with me yet. Give me a chance, Alice. You might even have fun.”

  “I might,” she slowly agreed. “And you might end up being a serial killer disguised as a handsome mall owner.”

  A strange series of expressions crossed his face, the last of which–amusement–remained. “You’re worried that I’m going to chop you into little pieces? That’s why you won’t go out with me?”

  It wasn’t, of course, but Alice couldn’t think of a polite way to say, “I think you’re too arrogant and too cocky to go out with.” So instead, she just shrugged.

  “What if I let you drive yourself to a public, well-lit restaurant of your choosing?” he offered. “I’ll even promise not to follow you home, although I bet I could convince your friend over there to give me your last name so I could look you up in the phone book.”

  Alice’s head turned toward the cash register where Whitney stood, frozen. She mouthed, “No,” before blushing furiously and clapping her hand over her mouth.

  “It looks like you’ll have to figure it out on your own.” Alice laughed at his disappointed expression. “And don’t even think about asking Brittany,” she added. “She won’t give it to you unless you promise to marry her, and even then it’s a toss-up.”

  He shuddered. “I have ways, you know,” he warned her. The dazzling smile had vanished, only to be replaced with a grin that suited him much better. She suspected he didn’t know that.

  ***

  An hour later they were sitting across a table from each other at a grill and bar restaurant. “I can’t believe you brought me here,” he said, glancing around. “I haven’t been to one of these in years.”

  Alice lifted a shoulder and examined the menu. “You told me to choose somewhere public and well-lit, and this is on the way home.”

  “A-ha.” Adam leaned back and smiled in satisfaction. “So you live by the mall. The search narrows.”

  She rolled her eyes. “W
hy do you care where I live?” she asked. “Was I wrong about the killer thing, and you’re really a stalker instead?”

  “You wish.”

  Alice knew that if Lewis had said the same thing to her, she’d have simply rolled her eyes and told him to shut up. But when those words came out of Adam’s mouth, they sounded… different. Not evil, I’m-going-to-track-you-to-the-ends-of-the-earth-and-eat-you-for-lunch different, but… different. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

  “I have something for you,” she said, interrupting the silence that had fallen between them. She fished in her pocket and handed him his handkerchief. “Thank you for letting me use it at the bookstore the other day. I would have given it back sooner, but–”

  “But I was unpardonably rude. I know.”

  Alice blinked. He wasn’t supposed to be apologizing, she was.

  “So I understand why you told me to take a flying leap the first time I asked you to dinner,” he continued, staring up at the light fixture hanging over their table. “The only explanation I can offer is that I hate, and I mean hate, to–”

  “Wait a minute.” She disliked interrupters, but very occasionally there was a need for it. “What do you think you’re doing? I was the one that was rude, not you!”

  Adam stared at her incredulously. “I made you cry.”

  Alice made a noise that was half laugh, half snort. “You didn’t make me cry,” she told him, and was grateful for the server’s timely arrival.

  Adam didn’t take his eyes off of her while they ordered their dinner, much to the waitress’s disappointment. She leaned over the table to refill his glass, giving him–Alice was pretty sure–a decent view down her shirt, but Adam didn’t seem to notice. The girl shot Alice a dirty look and flounced away without a backward glance. If Alice was the betting type, and she wasn’t, she’d bet that his tacos would come out burned–or worse. She busied herself with her napkin when they were alone again, hoping that he’d change the subject.

  He didn’t. “What do you mean, I didn’t make you cry?” Adam seemed to be having a hard time understanding this. “I was rude to you the day we met, just before I saw you at the book store. You were crying like your heart was shattering–wait.” His eyes narrowed. “You have a boyfriend.”

  “I do?”

  “Don’t you?”

  This is absurd, Alice thought. We’re arguing about who was ruder. “I don’t. And really, you weren’t the worst customer I’ve seen in the past year.” Or employee, she added silently. “So please, if this whole dinner thing is a way to make you feel better about yourself, consider your debt to society paid in full.”

  Totally ignoring the last half of her dialogue, Adam leaned his elbows on the table and shook his head. “Then, if it wasn’t me being an idiot and you don’t have a boyfriend that treated you poorly, why were you crying?”

  It always came back to this, Alice thought wearily. No matter how hard she tried to bury the memories away, someone always insisted on bringing them back up. “It was my mother’s birthday,” she told him shortly, and took a huge gulp of her water. Hydration, she reminded herself. Lewis would be so proud of me.

  Adam regarded her steadily while she drank. “I’m sorry your mother got a year older,” he said with a straight face after she placed her glass, empty, back on the table. “But these things happen. You might as well get used to it.”

  “She died a year ago.” It was almost a relief to have the words out in the open.

  The color drained from Adam’s face just before he buried it in his hands. “Please tell me that’s a very bad joke.”

  Alice took a deep breath. “It’s not. I was thinking, back at the bookstore, that she would have been very disappointed in me for the way I treated you in the shop. I’m sorry,” she said, staring down at her fork. “I should have remembered that I’m not the only person who’s ever had a bad day.” She wasn’t too surprised when she had to blink hard, and she scrambled on her lap for her napkin.

  One of Adam’s hands closed around the handkerchief she’d just given back to him and thrust it in her direction. “A fine date this is turning out to be,” he said drily. “First I argue with you over who’s the bigger jerk, and then I make you cry–proving,” he added, pointing a finger at her, “that it is me. So I’d appreciate it if you’d stop bickering about it and let me bask in the glow of my status in peace. I don’t much feel like sharing.”

  Alice wiped her eyes on his hankie. I should just buy him another set, she thought. This one seems to be attached to me. “I don’t usually cry at dinnertime,” she said after it was evident that Adam wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m normally quite lively.”

  “I’m sure you are.” He emerged from behind his hands and sighed heavily, and Alice took a proper look at him. Once she saw beyond the good looks and charm, she could see the tired lines around his mouth and his blurry eyes.

  “Are you okay?” she asked gently. Her hand itched to cross the table and rest on his, but she didn’t know what he’d do. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

  “I’m fine.” He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands and sat up straighter in his seat. “It takes a lot of effort to avoid someone like Brittany, that’s all.” The smile he flashed at her had lost a little of its brilliance, and Alice felt some of her reserves softening.

  “Tell me about it. I’ve been doing it for a year now, and it hasn’t gotten any easier.”

  Adam snorted and waited while the waitress silently dumped their plates on the table. “What’s with her?” he asked before digging into his dinner.

  “I think she wanted you to notice her.”

  Adam didn’t seem fazed by this. “I’m on a date with you,” he reminded her. “It would be extremely rude of me to pay attention to another woman. I bet you haven’t given that guy at the bar a second glance, and he’s been ogling you since we walked in.”

  Alice flushed. “What guy?”

  Grinning, Adam turned his attention back to his food. “My point exactly.” He thought for a second, then said a little too casually, “Brittany’s mother seems very… interesting.”

  Alice was tempted to snort in response, but she’d just taken a bite of mashed potatoes and didn’t think that would be terribly attractive. “Interesting is a very nice word to describe Mimi Walker.”

  “Her name’s Mimi? Was she born in the wild west about a century ago?”

  His eyes twinkled at her, and she grinned. “What does the‘H’in your initials stand for?”

  A pained expression crossed his face. “It’s not very interesting,” he said evasively.

  He was avoiding the subject, and Alice knew it. “I don’t believe you. Please, Adam H Wentworth?” She gave him the look that always made Lewis cave in, and it worked on Adam, too. He groaned and pushed his plate away. He must have been terribly hungry. Either that or he was used to eating at a breakneck speed.

  “Don’t do that to an innocent guy. It’s not pleasant.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “It’s all my father’s fault, really. When my mother found out that I was going to be a boy, he started planning my future for me.”

  “That was good of him.”

  He made a face. “Depends on which end of it you’re on. Anyway, he decided that the Wentworths needed to set a collegiate tradition, and that we were best suited for–”

  “Let me guess,” Alice interrupted, laughing a little. “Harvard.”

  “You got it.”

  “So did you get in?”

  He flashed a smug smile at her. “Yup and Dartmouth.”

  “And? How was it? Which school has the honor of being the new Wentworth family collegiate tradition?” Alice had a hard time getting that out around her laugh.

  He shrugged. “Neither one.”

  Alice’s eyebrows rose. “Where’d you go to school, then?”

  Adam leaned his chair back on its back legs, placed his hands behind his head, and smiled beatifically. “Princeton.”r />
  ***

  Adam watched the taillights of Alice’s car fade into the distance thoughtfully and wondered why she was being so reticent. He idly considered the idea that she might be the one with a criminal background before laughing at himself. She was too genuine to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

  It didn’t take him long to get back to his hotel, and he nodded silently to the bellman. As far as hotels went, it was pleasant. He didn’t want to live in it for the next six months, but he supposed it would do.

  An hour later he shoved his computer to the other side of the desk, just as clueless as he’d been when he’d turned it on. Who was Alice? And why won’t she at least tell me what her last name is? All the lists he had of store owners had Mimi Walker as the sole owner, with not a hint of any other employees. Not that that surprised him; after all, Mimi seemed like the sort of person who’d want to look more important than she really was. But it was a little frustrating.

  Well, more than a little, he conceded. What he really wanted to do was tear his hair out. He would have, too, but he knew–from more than one source–that his hair was one of the things women loved most about him. So it was allowed to stay.

  What he needed was a female perspective. Naturally, he called his mother.

  “Darling!” Jillian chirped into the phone. “I haven’t heard from you in ages!”

  “I talked to you three days ago, Mom. Can you think of a reason why a woman wouldn’t tell me what her last name was?”

  “I can see we’re through with the formalities.” Her voice was dry. “Are you talking literally or metaphorically? About the woman, I mean.”

  Adam winced. “Literally.”

  He could almost hear his mother’s smug smile across the miles between them. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve finally met a girl that can withstand your charms? I think I like her already.”

  “You would. She refused to go out with me the first time I asked her because she thought I might be a murderer.”