“I’m just going to quickly gather my things.” She headed for the bedroom, but Mrs. Behr stopped her.
“Not so fast,” she said.
Here it comes.
Well, she deserved it. She raised her head to face her.
There was concern in Mrs. Behr’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? I know you and Blake care deeply about each other. Anyone could see that.”
Goldie steeled herself. “But it was just a charade. I’m not who you thought I was.”
“You weren’t deceiving Blake. You were helping him deceive me, and I can get over that. I was hard on him.”
Miss Sniggles came tearing out of her room and pranced around Goldie’s feet, which certainly didn’t help. She reached down and scratched the dog’s ear, unwilling to pick her up. “He’s a lawyer. I’m practically homeless. He needs a different kind of girl.”
His mother shook her head. “You’re creative and brave. You followed your dreams when no one else believed in you. Me? I gave up my art the first time someone disapproved. Blake abandoned his love of writing when I expressed my concern. But you have passion and commitment. Blake is different because of you. He’s a better person; he’s truer to himself. This apartment, all these things he has are nice. But they don’t make him happy.” She pointed at her. “You do.”
Goldie shook her head, and caught her thumbs in the belt loops on her jeans. “I have to get my act together before I could try a relationship with him. I’ve been living a vagabond life. It’s embarrassing, looking back now. I can’t just move in with him and pick up where we left off. He’d always wonder if I was just with him because it was convenient.”
His mother sighed. “So you have something to prove. I can understand that.”
Goldie made her way to the bedroom, with the dog on her heels. Tears welled in her eyes when she saw her paintings hung in the hall; they looked perfect, like they belonged there. Too bad she didn’t.
She jammed her things in her suitcases, picked up his robe and smelled him one more time, then left the room.
His mother was waiting at the door for her. She handed her a business card. “Stop by this boutique. I bought a dress for you that will be perfect for the prince’s ball. But of course, if you don’t like it, you can choose something else.”
Goldie stared at the card. “I don’t understand. Why would I be going to the ball with Blake now?”
“You’re not. You’re going as the artist who donated a beautiful painting for the charity auction. And all my friends are going to be there, and they’re simply dying to talk to you about commissions for their home. I’d be terribly embarrassed if I had to tell them you weren’t coming now.”
She shook her head. “You’re just being kind. I’m not so sure I can make a living from my art. You and Blake were just being nice buying my stuff.”
Mrs. Behr put her hand on her hip. “Goldie, after you left, someone came and bought all your work.”
“One person? Who?”
“The owner’s grandmother, Kate Robinson. She loved your work. She’ll be at the ball, too, and wants to meet you. And of course, her granddaughter, Rose, will be there with her boyfriend. He’s my personal trainer, you know. Come on. It’ll be fun!”
Goldie frowned. “Will Blake be there?”
His mother shook her head. “I’m not sure. But you’ll come, right?”
“You’ve been so wonderful to me. Of course I will.”
***
Mrs. Behr had picked out a beautiful strapless dress of midnight blue for Goldie. As she turned to inspect herself in the mirror, she realized she’d never worn anything so stunning. The cost of the dress would probably cover rent for a month at a small studio apartment, but she was determined to enjoy herself and be a professional. She couldn’t pass up this opportunity to make some new clients and sock away some money.
Later that night, on the elevator ride up to the penthouse of Grimm Towers, her fingers shook as she gripped her clutch, loaded with business cards she’d just had made. When the elevator zoomed past the seventh floor, she thought of Blake and sighed.
She spotted a uniformed butler standing outside a door and presumed it was the prince’s place. He welcomed her and opened the door for her. She was hit by a sudden wave of nerves. All these important people; all these rich people. Would they know she was a fraud?
She scanned the ornate ballroom, bigger than she could’ve imagined would be in an apartment. Classical music played, waiters circulated with champagne and hors d’oeuvres. An elaborate display was filled with whimsical cupcakes and desserts. Goldie spotted Rose from the bakery and rushed over, pleased to see someone she knew.
“How did you land this gig?”
Rose grinned. “The prince loves our Sea Goddess muffins.” She frowned. “Although he didn’t order any for the party.” She shrugged. “Hey, I’ve got loads of money for you from you art sale. Stop by Monday and I’ll pay you.” She pulled a handsome man toward her. “Let me introduce my boyfriend, Jack Wolff.”
She shook hands with a gorgeous, buff man and wondered how much passion bread she’d plied him with; he looked utterly smitten with her.
Then three women in aprons hurried over. Rose sighed. “Ladies, I need you to man the table so I can circulate and talk with the guests.”
Goldie willed her jaw not to drop. Veronica and Gloria scurried behind the table, aprons tied on over their elegant dresses. “Hello, Gloria. I didn’t know you’d be here.
Working
,” Goldie added. “Have you taken on a part-time job?”
Gloria stuck her nose in the air. “My mother, sister, and I are volunteering.”
Goldie nodded, “Oh, I see.”
“Of course, we didn’t realize that until we got here,” their mother said through her teeth.
Veronica dusted her hands. “I said I could get you into the ball, I guess I forgot to mention that small detail.” She winked at Goldie.
Veronica’s mother hissed at her. “Take off your apron. Here comes Jeremy James. You can’t give up on him yet.”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “Mother, when the right guy comes along, I’ll know. And Jeremy is not the right guy for me.”
“And just what are you going to do until then?” her mother asked.
“Work at the bakery. Go to cooking school.” She shrugged as Jeremy and his girlfriend approached.
Goldie did a double take. “Shawna White? From Central High? Is that you?”
Shawna squealed and hugged Goldie. “You look great. I heard you were in the city working as an artist. I ran into your mother at the grocery store last time I was home. She’s so proud of you chasing your dreams in the city.” Then she twisted her lips, uncertain. “But she wants you to get your cello out of her house.”
Goldie laughed. “Thanks for the tip. How are you?”
Shawna held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers, showing off a beautiful engagement ring. “I’m about to become a wife and stepmother to seven kids.”
Veronica came from behind the table and reached for Shawna’s hand. “I just have to say congratulations. I’m sorry for any trouble I caused you two.” Then she dropped her voice to a whisper. “And I do hope you’re a better stepmother than I was to you.” She plucked a muffin off the table and offered it to Shawna. “Apple strudel muffin? I made it myself.”
She held up her hand and took a step back. “No thanks, I think we’re good.” And with that, they headed across the ballroom.
“Cupcake or a muffin?” Veronica offered Goldie. “Are you feeling naughty or nice?”
More like nervous
, she thought.
Is there a dessert for that?
A pumpkin muffin certainly wouldn’t help. “A cupcake, definitely a cupcake.” She took a beautiful treat and wandered over to the auction table. Certificates for weekend stays in Europe and the Caribbean were being auctioned off, with the silent bidding already in the thousands. Jewelry and Jiminy Shoes were available for bids. And next to a crystal vase sat her painting of kids playing along the shore at the cottage. She bit her lip before getting the courage to look at the bids written down. When she glanced at the paper, she gasped. Six hundred dollars?
“I’m surprised it isn’t higher.”
She spun around, shocked to see Blake standing there, smiling. “I didn’t think you were coming,” she said.
“I suspect my mother told you that just to make sure you came.”
She pursed her lips. “Blake, it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that I don’t like where I’m at right now. You know?”
He stepped closer to her. She could smell his aftershave and tried not to inhale. “I know,” he said. “You made me realize I feel the same way about myself. Which is why I quit my job.”
She covered her mouth. “What?”
“You were willing to be homeless to pursue your passion. I gave up my passion just to have nice things. I figure there’s got to be a middle ground for the two of us.”
She hugged her arms around herself, not wanting to believe what he was saying. “What are you going to do?”
He grinned, looking entirely pleased with himself. “I’m opening my own law firm specializing in contract negotiation for writers and artists. It’ll be a much easier schedule that’ll leave me time to write.”
She couldn’t help it; she launched herself into his arms. “I’m so happy for you.”
He held her tight. “Me too. I’m excited. And I’m so grateful to you for inspiring me.” His smile disappeared. “But I can’t afford my place anymore. I’m going to be moving out.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “That’s too bad. I know you love it.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll find a new place. And I sure could use a roommate to help pay the rent.”
Her heart dropped. Roommate? Did he only think of her as a friend? She let her hand slide out of his.
But he grabbed it back with a grin. “Especially if that roommate is someone I’m falling in love with.” Then he tipped up her chin and kissed her. “Shall we go apartment shopping tomorrow?”
“You’ll let me keep my cello, there, right?”
He laughed. “Absolutely. Now come on, I want you to meet a few people who will be crazy for your art.”
Blake introduced her to the prince who was throwing the ball to benefit the hospital that saved his future father-in-law’s life, and performed plastic surgeries on the prince’s scars. “I’ll have to commission you to paint a picture of my future wife, Belle. I’d love to unveil it at the wedding.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “Only if she does one of you.”
His hand went to his face, fingering his scar.
“I don’t have to include the scar,” Goldie said, softly. It was noticeable, but not horrible.
He shook his head. “No, you do. It’s part of who I am now. I’m not ashamed.”
“And I could build gorgeous frames for them,” Belle said, the gears in her mind obviously whirling.
“You do framing? Custom frames would be incredible.” Goldie fished out a business card and handed it to her. “Let’s talk this week.”
Belle took the card with a smile. “I’ll call you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my father.”
The prince shook his head. “Leave him be. He’s talking with my neighbor, Kate Robinson. I have the feeling they don’t want to be interrupted.”
Goldie looked over at the older man and woman nearly head to head sharing a joke. “It was so nice to meet you both,” Goldie said, leaving them to their other guests.
“See?” Blake said as they headed for the balcony. “You’re going to have more work than you know what to do with.”
As they headed outside, they realized a couple was already out there, kissing. It was the butler who’d let her in and a woman in a maid’s outfit. They quickly broke their kiss. “Yes, that will be all for now Mrs. Downing,” the man said, clearing his throat.
“Of course, Reginald,” she said, smoothing her hair back in place.
Goldie quickly ducked back inside to give them their privacy—and promptly bumped into another couple.
“I’m sorry,” Goldie said. Then she froze. “Hey, you’re the girl with the crystal shoes! I met you at a bar during that crazy week of yours!”
“Yes, I’m Cindi.”
Goldie looked at the woman’s feet. “I thought you had to give them up. How’d you get them back?”
Cindi grinned. “An early wedding gift from the Jiminy Shoes owner.”
Goldie whistled, imagining exactly how she’d paint them if given the chance.
Rose’s grandmother, Kate, approached them. “Goldie! Just the person I was looking for.”
“Mrs. Robinson, I can’t thank you enough for buying my work. I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re very talented. After seeing your work at my granddaughter’s bakery, I’d like to hire you for a new ad campaign for Jiminy Shoes. Think you can paint Cindi in those crystal shoes? We’re launching a new line of affordable versions and I want something special to kick off the campaign.”
“You work for Jiminy Shoes?” Goldie asked.
Mrs. Robinson winked. “You could say I got my foot in the door when it first started.”
Goldie handed her a card with promises to talk later in the week.
Blake led her across the ballroom and snatched two glasses of champagne for them. “To our new start,” he proposed, holding up his glass.
“To our new apartment,” Goldie said, clinking his glass. “We’re going to have to find a place with a studio for me now that I’ve got all this work lined up.”
“Nothing too big,” he said. “We won’t be able to afford it yet.”
“But nothing too small. Miss Sniggles has her standards, you know.”
He leaned toward her and stole a kiss. “I know we’ll find something just right.”
“How do you know?”
“Everything’s been right since you broke into my apartment.”
She tried to protest, but he stole her words with a kiss that promised a happy ending no matter where they landed.
They were interrupted by the ringing of a bell. “Ladies and gentlemen,” announced the butler. “Please line up in the hallway. We are promptly commencing with rides down the banister.”
You’ve just read Fairy Tale Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories. Check out Lisa’s other Flirts! volumes: Holiday Flirts!, Wedding Flirts!, More Flirts! and Reunion Flirts!
You might also enjoy Lisa’s romantic novella, Spouse Hunting, and her Willowdale romance series.