Page 5 of Cinderella Is Faking It

That one was so thick; I gasped a little laugh. “Alright, Casanova, cool it.”

“Cordelia, have you tried the stuffed mushrooms at Chez? They are divine.” Mrs. Sallow leaned over smiling conspiratorially. “I’m sure they would be able to deliver to your house, considering you prefer to stay there…”

Alright so Cordelia’s social anxiety was clearly not a secret. These seemed like the type of people to gossip hard about each other and to make a big deal about every shrivel of new information. When you had no problems, you had to create them yourself, right? I couldn’t give her too much of an answer or I’d be throwing Cordelia to the wolves.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t had the pleasure yet.” Nailed it. I had to tell Tabitha that reading Jane Austen wasnotuseless. Then again, my best friend never would have gotten herself into this kind of situation.

“Oh, and you have to try their truffle ice cream. Although I suppose getting ice cream delivered all the way across town might be a little more difficult.” Oh, she was rubbing it in now. What a snake. I pasted on my most polite smile and waited for the waiters to clear off the dishes - this time mine being the only one untouched.

“I could never indulge in ice cream,” I said. “The combination of sugar and dairy has such devastating effects on one’s hair density. I applaud anyone who’s able to enjoy such a treat, but I’m too vain about my hair. I know, I know. Vanity is a horrible vice.” I let my eyes click up to her hairline for just a split-second, let my smile waver, then pasted on the same polite expression as before.

Rachel Sallow of Sallow Sweets, whose entire fortune was built on sugar and dairy, touched her perfectly styled bob, with a silent ‘oh’ on her lips. “Well,” she huffed, “yes, it is.”

Oh god, I had just burned a bridge, hadn’t I? The second I realized what I’d said, the heat shot to my cheeks. I had to apologize. I had to say something. I had to-

“Come on, Blondie, let’s dance.” Before I even had time to react, Beck’s hand curled around mine again and he pulled me to my feet. His skin shouldn’t have burned on mine as much as it did, just from holding my hand as he led me onto the dance floor.

Between a lush display of flowers, a string quartet had set up and played covers of pop songs, Bridgerton-style.

“Wait, did you just call me Blondie?” My thoughts finally caught up with me and I pulled my hand out of his.

“I thought you’d like the name since you’re so vain about your hair.” Beck turned and stepped in front of me, and my breath stuttered once again. Seriously. Handsome and richand tall? How was that fair? It wasn’t hard to be taller than me, but with my 5’1” I came face to face with his chest. He had to have more than a foot on me.

“I actually love ice cream,” I said, standing awkwardly still as he directed my left hand onto his shoulder and placed his own on my bare back, “but truffle ice cream? Come on. Caramel fudge is where it’s at.”

He grazed his fingertips across the palm of my right hand to open it enough to slip his own into it, and my stomach twisted. No. Nope. Being attracted to someone was one thing, going through a whole spiel of touches with that person- He tugged me closer against his chest and started moving us.Iwas very much not dancing. My feet just sort of skimmed the floor as he danced and took me with him.

Not how I’d imagined my first proper dance in a proper ball gown to go, but I let myself be swept into the music and into the swirl of luxurious dresses and dapper suits. This close, the fresh scent of Beck’s aftershave filled my senses, mild citrus mixed with something a little darker, more masculine, adding to the lush elegance of the moment. “I personally prefer good, old vanilla,” he said once my stiff shoulders somewhat relaxed into the movements.

“Really?” I scrunched my nose at him. “I would have pegged you for a rocky road kind of guy.”

“How so?” The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Dark, rich, with a bit of a soft spot, and potentially a little nuts.” A grin stole its way onto my lips. Oh no, wait, was this flirting? Was I teasing him? Retreat. Retreat! “Anyway, I shouldn’t have said those things to her.” I shook my head and closed my eyes for a moment, strangely confident that he wouldn’t drop me.

“I disagree.” His fingertips traced the vertebrae between my shoulders, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’re a wild card on the social playing field. She tested your boundaries and you put her in her place.”

Except I wasn’tmeand I had no idea what the fallout would be. Should I even be dancing with the man I was sitting next to? I tried to get a glimpse at the other dancing couples but spotted the principal’s face near the edge of the dance floor instead. Shit. I lowered my eyes and shook the hair free from behind my ears, letting it fall around my face like a curtain. But if the principal wastherethat meant the door was unwatched.

“Thank you, but I’m all danced out.” I tapped his shoulder. “I’m going to go find a bathroom.”

“Have dinner with me on Sunday.” He maneuvered us around the other dancers to the far end of the dance floor and stopped there, but didn’t loosen his position, his warmth lingering.

“We’re having dinner today.” I slipped my hand from his.

“I have a feeling I won’t see you for the main course,” Beck said, his touch moving up my vertebrae again until his index finger bumped against the clasp of my necklace. It wasn’t even a touch. It was barely more than a brush over my back. And yet goosebumps raced up my arms. Traitorous stupid skin.

“Thank you for the dance.” I sighed and turned out of his embrace. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

I grabbed the weight of my skirt with both fists and booked it out of there.

THREE

“The girl showedup just long enough to get her picture with you taken on the dance floor and then left?” Julian rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. I’d told him a hundred times that he’d be less prone to migraines if he didn’t insist on the corner office with all the light streaming in, but God forbid he didn’t have the largest office on the floor. “What kind of move is that? Did she even talk to Doyle?”

“No,” I replied. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it was a move. I think she just panicked.”

“She should have panicked after getting the zoning rights for the M Elements.”

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