Page 1 of Cinderella Is Faking It

ONE

My eyes were trainedon the clock while Parker caught his breath, face pressed against my neck. Every hot gasp fanned out moist against my skin, but I couldn’t push him off just yet, so instead I ran my fingernails over his back in circles, up and down, which had him humming in delight. I’d worked out early on that he needed exactly three minutes to cool down after climaxing and he liked my nails on his skin as long as I didn’t scratch him.

Two minutes down.

I watched the secondstick tick tickpast, ignoring the ache in my hips from his cold weight pressing down on me. Usually, I wasn’t that jumpy. Sometimes the cuddling afterwards was the best part. But I had places to be and people to convince that I was employable. 2-minutes-52. 2:53. 2:54.

“Thank you,” I whispered and kissed the top of his floppy brown curls, “that really calmed me down.” Not really, but I wasn’t going to tell him that while he was fumbling my breasts, I’d been going through potential interview questions in my head.

What kind of culture was I looking for?Well-structured with a team that works together to make the students’ well-being and academic development a top priority.

Why did I apply specifically at Truman Academy?Because it had a great extracurricular program focused on culture and arts, and as an avid reader, I would like to work for a school that values and fosters a love for literature.

Why did I leave my old school in the middle of the year?- Why did I leave my old school- Why did I- yeah, at that point I’d faked my orgasm, so I could get ready.

“See? I told you I could take your mind off the interview for a bit.” Parker stole a quick kiss from my lips and smiled down at me, his brown eyes all golden honey in the late afternoon light.

Okay, maybe one more minute. “Thank you.” I drew him back to me for a longer kiss, sighing as he finally pulled out of me and lifted his weight off my aching hips.

“You’re going to ace the interview, babe.”

“I’ll do my best.” The problem was rarely the interview itself. I was great at those because I could talk about English lit for hours. He just didn’t know that, because I usually didn’t even get this far, and I hadn’t told Parker why I’d been fired from my last job. That had happened like two weeks before meeting him and it had been too early for that kind of conversation. I seriously hadn’t expected to get an interview at Truman Academy - which was one of the most prestigious private schools in the country - but I’d been desperately applying to every single job opening, and they’d replied.

Parker disappeared into the bathroom to take care of the condom and I swung my legs out of the bed, jumping back when Fitzwilliam tried to hook his claws into my calves. “Goddammit,” I mumbled. He hissed at me, then scurried back into the shadows under my bed. That cat was a demon sent from hell, but he had been returned to the shelter so often that this was his last shot. And no matter how many times he’d bite me, I was not letting them harm a hair on his huge, gray body. Once I had a steady income again, I might have to invest in a cat whisperer though. My ankles could only take so much.

“You look great,” Parker slung his arms around my waist from behind as I studied my very safe black jeans and white blouse combo. I’d add the blue blazer later, but I’d sweat through it on the overcrowded subway if I put it on now. Everyone would be coming back from work, sweaty and exhausted, and I had to look presentable like the day had just started. No pressure. I hadn’t done anything with my hair, just letting the blonde bob frame my face. The whole look screamed I’m a safe choice. I won’t cause trouble.Maybe the red lipstick was a bit much, but it was my lucky shade. You could claw Ruby Woo from my cold, dead hands.

“Thanks,” I sighed and shot another look at the clock. I had to go in less than ten minutes. My stomach dropped as the anxiety clawed up my neck. I shouldn’t even bother going. It was going to be yet another bust.

“How about I stay, and we grab pizza when you get back tonight? On me. It’ll either be celebratory or commiseration pizza.” He pressed a kiss to the back of my head.

Commiseration pizza. Great. Amazing. Loved the idea. “Okay,” I said, voice wavering, and turned out of his hug to grab my bag and double-check its contents. I was a big believer in bags-within-bags. So, I had a blue pouch for pens, a pink pouch for emergency meds and band-aids, an orange polka dot pouch for cereal bars and chewing gum… I slid my notebook in between, alongside the folder that contained copies of my resume and references.

* * *

“I’msurprised you didn’t apply sooner. Why make the switch from public to private school now?” Principal Baker was a large man with a soft face and a big smile that put me at ease within two minutes of walking into his old-school office. The office itself helped too, with an oak desk and dark wood bookshelves behind him, aesthetically ticking all my boxes. This was, however, the first time he even remotely asked about my employment history instead of my teaching style, and my heart was ready to leap out of my chest. It hammered painfully against my ribs.

“I love the energy teachers bring to public schools,” I replied, hoping my smile didn’t tremble too much. The interview had gone amazing up until now. Baker and I agreed on so many things, and it was refreshing to talk to someone in school admin, who actually valued cultural subjects, not just STEM and sports. Teaching here, I could actually show students how much of a difference the written word made on a personal and cultural level, instead of dragging through the curriculum to make sure everyone somehow got passing grades.“I went to public schools myself and I’m beyond grateful for my teachers’ commitment over the years. Sometimes, however, as a teacher, it feels like that energy isn’t reciprocated. In private schools, there’s a sense of community and shared identity that goes beyond school sports.”

“I agree,” he nodded, “at Truman, we want everyone to feel like they are part of something bigger. Many of our alumni stay in touch with each other and with the school because of that.” His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “I would usually ask you if you have any questions for me, but I’m afraid we’ve already been talking longer than anticipated. I’m attending an event tonight, actually hosted by one of our alumni.”

“Of course, thank you for taking the time to meet me,” I replied, getting to my feet when Principal Baker stood.

“I must thank you, especially for coming in during your summer break.” He’d mentioned how the position had already been filled, but then the other person had to drop out due to health concerns. “If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to email me.” He motioned me towards his office door.

“Thank you,” I replied and shook his hand goodbye, making sure to add just enough squeeze to convey that I may be short, but I was not too weak to take on a bunch of high schoolers.

“We have yet to hear back from all your references, but once we do, I will be back in touch with further steps.”

Smile. Smile. Smile, Delilah, goddammit. “Great,” I breathed. I nodded. I smiled. I turned and waited for the door to his office to shut between us, before I bolted down the hallway. I shouldered past some guy in a suit and into the girls’ bathroom. I barely made it into the stall before my lunch wrap came out the same way it had gone down.

Of course, I’d never stood a chance.

Of course, they hadn’t heard back from my references yet, because it was the middle of summer.

Of course, I had to go through the best interview of my life just to be shot down with one sentence.

When the sour retching stopped, another sound broke through my thoughts. Sobbing. And not mine for a change. I straightened, knees wobbling, wiping my mouth with soft, multi-layered toilet paper that I didn’t even splurge on myself, before flushing down my misery and stepping out of the stall.

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