She’s not so little anymore. Not like the kid trying to tag along with her big brother.
Lucy was a tall, slim knockout with one helluva rack. He had to have been blind not to notice. He had an eye for details, honed at Harvard Business school and later tested in New York City where he’d launched his first business—and hired Lucy’s brother to help him run it and open a secondary office in the sunshine state.
Back then Finn’s sister had just accepted her dream job in Orlando. Fast-forward six years, and Lucy still looked as if she’d walked out of the pages of a fairy tale. But Jared knew for a fact his storybook alter ego would be shelved in the non-fiction section. His rise from scholarship-kid to business mogul might be the stuff of financial fairy tales, but it was a true story with a happy-ever-after spelled out in dollar signs.
“Want to tell me why you abandoned your date?” he asked as they sped past a drawbridge leading from the mainland to the island.
“I would rather wear a mouse costume on a hundred degree day than spend another minute listening to that man.”
“What was wrong with him?” He turned onto her street and pulled up in front of a modest two-story cottage perched on a postage stamp of neatly trimmed grass. Remodeled Mediterranean-style mini mansions flanked the small house she shared with her girlfriends. If she’d accepted her brother’s financial help after her break-up, she’d have a luxury condo across the bridge, probably with a view of the ocean. But she’d insisted on staying with her girlfriends.
She shook her head as she reached for the car door. “He wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“You’ve been out with him before?” He knew he should have left the interrogation to her fellow princesses. But the odds were, her brother would hear about Lucy’s runaway to the kitchen act—probably from Minny—and show up on Jared’s doorstep with a six-pack and a ton of questions. And Finn would expect answers.
Jared couldn’t blame his friend for stepping into the role of overprotective big brother. Finn had watched Barrett, the pompous doctor, break Lucy’s heart two months ago.
“No,” she said. “First date. But we’d emailed after I found his profile.”
Isn’t it a little soon for online dating?
But her fairy godmother could turn him into a freaking pumpkin before he tossed that question out there. If he did, he suspected that she’d slam the car door and walk away in a huff. And he wasn’t ready to part with Lucy. She’d burst into the bustling restaurant kitchen and uprooted his plan for the night. Bringing Lucy home and listening to her problems promised to be more interesting than sharing a meal with a bottle of top shelf tequila and crazed kitchen staff.
He put the Jaguar in park and cut the engine. Then he climbed out and followed her up the sidewalk.
“Jared, I’m fine. It was just a bad date.” She paused to withdraw her keys. “You don’t need to walk me to my door.”
“Maybe I’m hoping for a reward drink.”
“Then you’ll be disappointed.” She climbed the stucco steps to the porch and slid her key into the lock.
“No beer fridge in the princess palace?” he drawled.
She smiled as the door swung open. “Only water and juice boxes right now.”
“Mixed berry?” He followed her into the entrance hall. A small living room stood to the left. On the right, French doors led to a dining-room-turned-office space.
“Apple.”
I should have brought the tequila. He glanced back at the door. He could thank her for the offer and leave now that he’d seen her safely inside. Or . . .
He turned back to the runaway princess. “I like apple.”
“One box. You can stay for one.” She dropped her keys and purse on a long, narrow, glass-topped side table. Then she headed for the kitchen in the back. He followed her down the corridor her big brother had labeled, “an ode to the big mouse.” The walls were lined with framed pictures of the three princesses from their time in Orlando. And Lucy was beaming in every shot.
In the kitchen, he pulled out a worn, brown leather barstool—they’d come with the rental property and escaped the pink theme that filled the other rooms. He’d never seen one of the princess’s bedrooms, but he’d witnessed what they’d done to the former dining room. Their office space looked as if they’d hired a five-year-old girl to play decorator.
She set an organic apple juice box on the granite island in front of him. He reached for the plastic straw.
“Fill me in,” he said. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
She sighed. “Please, Jared, just drink your juice. You don’t need to hear about my latest disaster.”
“That bad?”
She nodded.
The corners of his mouth twitched as he waited for her to elaborate. Most people offered him spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations when he demanded an update. “If you don’t tell me, Finn will ride over and ask you himself. At least you only need to give me enough to keep him off your back.”