Page 1 of Secret Cinderella
Chapter 1
“Charlotte, move the boxes.” Her stepmother's announcement echoed overhead on the speaker. Thankfully there were no customers in the store yet while Charlotte choked down her morning oatmeal in the employee break room.
She hopped up fast, always ready to work. This superstore had once been her father’s pride and joy. Now it was her prison, but maybe one day she’d own it like he’d intended for her.
Tossing half of her breakfast in the trash, she nodded at her stepmother, Nancy, whose black eyes seemed like evil incarnate. Her black eyeliner and black outfit added to the effect. Nancy watched Charlotte grab the red pull cart that held the new deliveries with an expression of malicious joy.
One day, Charlotte hoped those witchy eyes would stop staring into her soul as she imagined Nancy always nearby, ready to pounce on any mistake. That would be great.
As she moved the first box in the stack to the aisle to restock the rice boxes, she shook her head. Her father in heaven wouldn’t want her to turn mean, not like her stepmother and stepsisters.
She wished that all three of them would marry rich men and leave her and this store alone.
Maybe then she’d add bigger windows. The cement-entombed store only let light in through the glass up front, a place she rarely saw.
They had to move on some day and then their mistreatment would just be a distant memory.
Dark haired and always sweet Jack, who’d grown so muscular that all the girls who'd ignored them in high school, and now only ignored her, joined her next to the boxes. “Charlotte, I saw the schedule in the break room when I clocked in. You haven’t had a day off in months.”
Her stepsisters, who worked in management, most often ‘supervised’ the cashiers…when they even showed up. She shrugged. “Linda needed to get her hair done.”
Jack scoffed, his blue eyes narrowed. “And the day before?”
The slightly nicer stepsister used her pretend management skills to party plan and thought her job was just to bring the birthday cake and balloons to work on special days. But at least Mickey had never pulled her hair or laughed when Charlotte had cried. “Mickey had a doctor’s appointment.”
Jack towered over her like he’d protect her from her family as his lips thinned. “Charlotte, you need to quit. It was one thing in high school to work here, but now it’s sixty hours or more a week and you’re not even getting paid overtime.”
Her best friend had gone from gangly to buff, and was smart too. She knew he was right. He’d stayed beside her even while he finished his college degree. “I’ll be fine.”
He motioned with his head toward her stepmother, who never laughed or smiled, at least toward her. When Nancy had first come home as her father’s new wife, she hadn’t been completely horrible. Charlotte was glad that Nancy hadn’t kicked her out after he’d died.
“No, you’re not her slave," Jack said dismissively. "You need to just walk out the door and toss your blue vest at her feet.”
The image of tossing the vest played in her mind, but what would happen out there? She’d end up in another store, working for someone else. At least here she had hope, a place to sleep, and one day soon… this would be her store. Nancy, Linda, and Mickey were not made for manual labor, something they said every night.
Charlotte continued to unpack a container of rice pilaf boxes.
Maybe it would be nice to start her own store, somewhere far away, possibly near a beach. But then she’d never see her father’s grave again. She turned toward Jack, who had already emptied one cardboard box of rice pilaf. “I can’t… my father built this place. One day they will all be gone and this store will be mine.”
He let out a small chuckle. “You’re dreaming.”
His comment made it seem like her plans were impossible when it was the opposite. One day this would be all hers again. She lifted her chin. “My father promised me.”
Jack slowly opened the next large box. “My father promised to pay for college but then he disappeared, never to be seen again, not that I ever saw him much before then. You can’t live based on promises from childhood that won’t happen.”
From what she'd inferred, his father had walked out on his mother and never called any of them again. She and Jack had different stories. “My father’s will was black and white. I will get this store.”
“The will hasn’t been found for you to trust that.”
“I have my memories,” she said. “I believe my father.”
“Fair enough.” He met her gaze and spoke like this was a conspiracy to escape class to go talk somewhere as he said, “If they leave… And they aren’t going anywhere.”
Mickey shuffled past the aisle with a cake and balloons in her hand, clearly heading to the break room to celebrate a part-timers birthday to make them feel special.
Linda’s laugh was in the background as Barbara, the full-time customer service agent, announced a sale on towels.
The click of heels sounded on the laminate floor behind her. She glanced around and met Nancy’s impossibly black eyes that never showed expression. “Charlotte, clean up on aisle nine.”
