Fairy Tale Weddings (12 page)

Sighing, Thorne sank down in his chair and looked over his messages. Paul Jenning had asked to see him, probably about his upcoming retirement and his not-so-secret proposal that Thorne succeed him. But even though this was what Thorne had always wanted, he couldn't feel excited about it. If only he knew how to contact Cindy…

 

“Have you been in
his
office yet?”

Cindy didn't need to guess whose office Vanessa was referring to. Her coworker hadn't stopped talking about Thorne from the moment Cindy had arrived for work. “Not yet.”

“Are you going in there?”

“Vanessa, it's my job—nothing more and nothing less.”

The other woman pushed her cleaning cart down the
hallway, casting Cindy a worried glance now and then. “How can you be so calm? Aren't you tempted to booby-trap his desk or something? As far as I'm concerned, Prince is the lowest form of life. He's lower than low. Lower than scum.”

Cindy pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“You're taking this much too calmly.”

“What do you want me to do?” Cindy asked, losing patience.

“I don't know,” Vanessa returned. “Cry, at least. Weep uncontrollably for a day or two and purge him from your system.”

“It would take more than a good bout of crying to do that,” Cindy mused. “What else?”

Vanessa looked confused. “I'd think you'd want to hate him.”

Cindy wasn't allowed that luxury, either. “No, I can't hate him.” Not when she loved him. Not when she wished for his happiness with every breath. Not when everything within her was grateful for the short time they'd shared. “No,” she repeated softly. “I could never hate him.”

They paused outside Thorne's office. “You want me to clean it for you?”

“No.” Cindy didn't need to think twice about it. From this night forward, Thorne's office would be the only contact she had with him. It was far too much—and yet, not nearly enough.

“You're sure?”

“Positive.”

The outer office, which Ms. Hillard occupied, was neat, as always, but Cindy brushed her feather duster over the desk and around the computer keyboard. Next, she plugged in the vacuum cleaner. With a flip of the switch it roared to
life, but she hadn't done more than a couple of swipes when it was suddenly switched off. Surprised, Cindy whirled around to discover Thorne holding the plug in his hand.

“Can't this wait?” he snapped, tossing the plug onto the carpet. “In case you hadn't noticed, I'm working in here.”

Cindy was too stunned to react. It was obvious he hadn't even looked at her. She was, after all, only the cleaning woman.

She turned, prepared to leave without another word, but in her rush, she bumped against the side of the desk and knocked over a stack of papers. They fluttered down to the carpet like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind.

“Of all the inept…”

Instantly, Cindy crouched down to pick them up, her shaking fingers working as quickly as she could make them cooperate.

“Get out before you do any more damage or I'll have you fired.”

Cindy reared up, her eyes spitting fire. “How
dare
you speak to me or anyone else in that demeaning tone?” she shouted. She had the satisfaction of watching Thorne's jaw sag open. “You think that because you're Mr. Almighty Vice President you can treat other people like they're your servants? Well, I've got news for you, Thorndike Prince. You can't have me fired because—I quit!” With that she removed the feather duster from her pocket, shoved it in his hand and stormed out of his office.

T
horne moved quickly, throwing the feather duster aside and hurrying out of his office. So this was Cindy's terrible secret. He'd never been more relieved about anything in his life. A flash of pinstriped coveralls and red bandana caught his attention in the office across from his own and he rushed in.

“Cindy, you crazy idiot.” He took her by the shoulders, whirled her around and pressed her close to hug the anger out of her.

She struggled, her arms flailing ineffectively, but Thorne wasn't about to set her free. Her cries were muffled against his broad chest.

“Honey, don't fight me. I'm sorry—”

She gasped, braced her palms against him and pushed with all her might until she broke free. If Thorne had been surprised to find Cindy cleaning his office, it was an even greater shock to discover that the woman he'd been holding wasn't Cindy.

“I'm not your ‘honey,'” Vanessa howled.

“You're not Cindy.”

“Any idiot could see that.” Disgruntled, she rearranged her bandana and squared her shoulders. “Do you always behave like an ape-man?”

“Where's Cindy?”

“And you're not exactly the love of
my
life, either,” Vanessa continued sarcastically.

Thorne rushed from the office and down the hall, stopping to search every room. Cindy was gone. Vanished. This was how it happened every time. Just when he thought he'd found her, she disappeared, sending him into agony until she stumbled into his life again. No more. They were going to settle this once and for all!

He rushed back to the other young woman, leaned both hands against the office doorway and shouted, “Where'd she go?”

“I don't know if I should tell you.” She idly dusted the top of Rutherford Hayden's desk, obviously enjoying her moment of glory.

“You—what's your name?”

“Vanessa, if it's any of your business.”

Thorne clenched his fists, growing more impatient. He wasn't going to let this impertinent Vanessa person keep him from the woman he loved. “Either you tell me where she is or you're out of here.”

“I wasn't all that keen to keep this job anyway,” Vanessa said, faking a yawn. She sauntered to the other side of the office. “Do you love her?”

“Yes!”

“If that's the case, then why was your engagement to another woman announced in the paper?”

“Sheila lied. Now, are you going to tell me where Cindy went?”

“So, you aren't going to marry this other woman?”

“That's what I just got through telling you. I want to marry Cindy.”

Vanessa raised her index finger to her lips, as if giving the matter consideration. “I suppose I
should
tell you, then.”

“Could you do it fast?”

“I was the one who brought Cindy your picture and told her you might be her prince.”

“We'll name our first daughter after you.” Thorne said the words from between gritted teeth.

“Fair enough,” Vanessa said with a sigh. “Take the elevator all the way to the basement, go left, then at the end of the corridor go left again, and it's the first room on your right. Have you got that?”

“Got it.” Thorne took off running. “Left, left, right. Left, left, right,” he mumbled over and over while he waited for the elevator. The ride to the basement had never seemed slower, especially when he realized that he had to change elevators on the main floor. When he couldn't locate the service elevator, the security guard, Bob Knight, came to his aid.

Just before the heavy door glided shut, Thorne yelled, “We'll name one of our children after you, too!”

 

Cindy was too furious to think straight. She removed her coveralls and flung them carelessly into the laundry bin. “Can't you see I'm working in here,” she muttered, sarcastically mimicking Thorne's words. The red bandana followed the coveralls, falling short of the bin, but Cindy couldn't have cared less.

“Cindy.”

At the sound of Thorne calling her name, Cindy turned, closed the door and slid the lock into place.

Thorne tried the door, discovered it was locked, then pounded on it with both fists. “Cindy, I know you're in there!”

She refused to answer him.

“Cindy, at least hear me out.”

“You don't need to say a word to me, Mr. Almighty Thorndike Prince.” Dramatically she brought the back of her wrist to her forehead. “I suggest you leave before you do any more damage and I'm forced to have you fired.” She taunted him with his own threat.

“Cindy, please, I'm sorry. I had no idea that was you.”

She reached for her jeans, sliding them over her hips and zipping them up, her hands shaking in her hurry to dress. “I think you're…despicable. Vanessa was right. You are the lowest of the low.”

“She'll change her mind. I just promised to name our first daughter after her.”

“Oh, stop trying to be clever!”

“Cindy,” he tried again, his voice low and coaxing, “hear me out. I've had a rotten day. I was convinced I'd never find you again and one thing after another has gone wrong. You're right, I shouldn't have shouted at you, but please understand. I didn't know you were the cleaning lady.”

She rammed her arms into the long sleeves of her sweatshirt and jerked it over her head. “It shouldn't have mattered who I was…as you kept telling me.”

“And I meant it. If you'd let me explain…”

“You don't need to explain a thing to me…I'm only the cleaning woman.”

“I love you, cleaning woman.”

Telling her that was cheating, since he knew the effect it would have on her. Cindy threw open the door and faced him, arms akimbo and eyes flashing. “I suppose you love Sheila, too.”

“No, I—”

“Don't give me that. Did you think I'm so socially inept I wouldn't find out about your wedding announcement? I do happen to read the paper now and again.”

“Sheila had that published without my knowledge. I have no intention of marrying her. How could I when I'm in love with you?”

That took some of the wind from her sails, as her aunt might have said, and her temper went with it. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Don't tell me you love me, Thorne. I don't think I'll be able to leave you if you do.”

Thorne reached for her, astonished anew at how right it felt to hold her. He held her tight and sighed in relief. He had his Cindy, his princess, his love, and he wasn't going to lose her again.

“That night was all a game,” she whispered. “I never dreamed…never hoped you'd come to care for me.”

“The magic never stopped and it never will. You're mine, Cindy Territo. And I'm yours.”

“But, Thorne, surely you understand now why I couldn't let you know.”

“Do you think it matters that you're a janitor? I love you. I want you to share my life.”

Cindy tensed. “Thorne, I'm scared.”

“There's no reason to be.” His hand smoothed the curls at the back of her head.

“Are you crazy?” Cindy asked with a sobbing laugh. “Look at us.”

Thorne blinked.

“You're standing there in your thousand-dollar suit and I'm wearing bargain-basement blue jeans.”

“So?”

“So! We're like oil and water. We don't mix.”

Thorne smiled at that. “It just takes a little shaking up. You can't doubt that we were meant to be together, Cindy, my very own princess.”

“But, Thorne—”

He kissed her then, cutting off any further objection. His mouth settled firmly over hers; the kiss was both undeniably gentle and magically sweet. When he held her like this, it was easy to believe that everything would always be wonderful between them.

“I want to meet your family.”

“Thorne, no.” Cindy broke out of his arms, hugging her waist.

He looked puzzled. “Why not?”

“Because—”

“I'll need to meet them sometime.”

Her uncle Sal's contorted, angry face flashed before Cindy. She knew he disapproved of Thorne. If Cindy were to bring Thorne to the apartment, Sal would punch first and ask questions later. Any of her uncles would behave the same way. Her family was highly protective of all their loved ones, and there'd have to be a whole lot of explaining before Cindy brought Thorne into their midst.

“Meet them?” Cindy repeated. “Why?”

“Cindy.” He held her squarely by the shoulders. “I plan to marry you. If you'll have me, of course.”

She stared at him, overwhelmed by happiness—and then immediately swamped by doubts.

“You will be my wife, won't you?”

He asked her with such tenderness that Cindy's eyes brimmed with tears. She nodded wildly. “Yes…”

Thorne relaxed.

“No,” she said quickly, then covered her face with both hands. “Oh, good grief, I don't know!”

“Do you love me?”

Her response was another vigorous nod.

“Then it's settled.” He removed her hands from her face and kissed her eyes and her nose. Then his lips descended slowly toward her mouth, pausing at her earlobe, working their way across the delicate line of her jaw….

“But, Thorne, nothing's settled. Not really. We…I need time.”

“Okay, I'll give you time.”

 

The organ music vibrated through the church. Cindy stood at the back of St. Anthony's and her heart went still as the first bridesmaid, holding a large bouquet of pink rosebuds, stepped forward. The second and the third followed. Cindy watched their progress, and her heart throbbed with happiness. This was her wedding day and within the hour she would experience the birth of her dreams. She would become Thorne's wife. Somehow they'd crossed every hurdle. She'd claimed she needed time. He'd given it to her. She'd been so sure her family would object, but with gentle patience Thorne had won over every member. Now it was June and almost six months had passed since the night of the Christmas Ball. Thorne had convinced her the magic of that night would last throughout their lives, and finally Cindy could believe him. There wasn't anything in this world their love couldn't overcome. They'd proved it.

Thorne stood at the altar, waiting for her. His eyes were filled with such tenderness that Cindy had to resist the urge to race into his arms.

His smile lent her assurance. He didn't look the least bit nervous, while Cindy felt as if a swarm of bees was about to invade her stomach. From the first, he'd been the confident one. Always so sure of what was right for them. Never doubting. Oh, how she loved him.

The signal came for four-year-old Carla to join the procession, and dressed in her long lavender gown, the little girl took one measured step after another.

Cindy stood at the back of the church and looked out over the seated guests. To her left were the people who'd loved and nurtured her most of her life. Aunt Theresa sat in the front row, a lace handkerchief in her hand, and Cindy saw her dab away an escaped tear. Cousins abounded. Aunts, uncles, lifelong friends, Vanessa, Bob Knight and others who'd come to share this glorious day. She lifted a hand to the pearl comb Thorne had returned to her. The combs secured her delicate veil. Cindy thought of her mother and how happy she would've been today.

To her right was Thorne's family. Wealthy, cultured, sophisticated. St. Anthony's parking lot had never hosted so many Cadillacs and Mercedes, nor had this humble sanctuary witnessed so many designer dresses and expensive suits. But they'd come, filling the large church to capacity, wanting to meet the woman who was about to marry Thorne Prince.

The organ music reached a crescendo when Cindy stepped onto the trail of white linen that ran the length of the aisle. The train of the satin and lace dress that had been worn by both her mother and her aunt flowed behind her.
Cindy walked at a slow and stately pace, each resounding note of the organ drawing her closer to Thorne, her prince, her love.

The congregation stood and Cindy felt a surge of excitement as the faces of those she loved turned to watch her progress.

Thirty minutes later Cindy moved back down the same aisle as Thorne's wife. Family and friends spilled out of the church, crowding the steps. Cindy was repeatedly hugged and Thorne shook hand after hand.

The limousine arrived, and with his guiding hand at her elbow, Thorne led her down the steps and held open the car door.

Almost immediately, he climbed in after her.

“Hello, Mrs. Prince,” he whispered, his voice awed. “Have I told you today how much I love you?” he asked.

“You just did that with a church full of witnesses,” she reminded him softly. “I do love you, Thorne. There were so many times I didn't believe this day could ever happen, and now that it has, I know how right it is.”