“I think my cat slipped out the window. You don’t see a big black cat, do you?”

  He scanned the fire escape, both up and down. “No. Go back inside. I’m sure your cat will come back.”

  “I can’t. The window’s stuck,” she said miserably. As if needing to prove it, she stood and tried to lift it to no avail.

  A child cried softly from her apartment.

  3B gasped. “Oh, my gosh. It’s Lucifer. He’s still inside.”

  Along with her son. “Come over here. I’ve got a key.”

  “To my apartment?”

  “To every apartment. I’m the emergency back-up if the super isn’t available.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She edged along the wall, as if afraid she’d fall. “I think I saw your name on my rental agreement, although I don’t remember what it is.” She reached out and he took her hand. “Maybe it’s time we moved beyond calling each other 3A and 3B.”

  “Let’s not take off our masks just yet,” Mack joked softly, guiding her in the window. “We need to get you safely inside.”

  Her foot hung up and her slipper fell. She tumbled into the apartment and into his arms.

  She tilted that sweet face toward his, and Mack couldn’t resist. He lowered his head and kissed her.

  It was a gentle kiss, a getting-to-know you kiss, a wonderful-wonderful kiss.

  The clock chimes faded away.

  “We…I….” Mack cast about for the right thing to say.

  “After what happened earlier, I wasn’t expecting that.” She smiled dreamily. “It was lovely.”

  Mack was in some deep doo-doo. He wanted to tell her his name and that he’d happily clean house for her if she’d kiss him, and only him, for the rest of her life.

  But in a few days, when he requested a meeting of the divorcing parties and their lawyers, she was going to find out who he was and then she’d never speak to him again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Boss, I found out who Mrs. Tremaine hired as her attorney.” Lovey Burney entered Mack’s office on Monday afternoon. She’d been Grandpa King’s secretary and was a pistol at the ripe age of seventy. “Cynthia Carlisle, from San Francisco.”

  Mack had been reviewing a particularly tricky new law related to the division of marital assets. He’d been reviewing it for the last hour, unable to get beyond the first paragraph. His thoughts kept turning to 3B.

  “That’s not good news,” he said to Lovey.

  “For Mrs. Tremaine, you mean.” She sat in the chair opposite his desk, her shoulders slightly hunched from years of secretarial work.

  “Of course, of course.”

  Divorce attorney Cynthia Carlisle had suffered a well-documented meltdown a month ago in a San Francisco courtroom when a judge had deemed her not to have provided enough evidence that a child was in danger. She’d tearfully demanded the judge do as she asked, evidence or not, because she’d had a “feeling.”

  The judge had cited her for contempt. The child had been sent on an unsupervised visitation with her father and had later been found dead in a dumpster—the father’s retaliation for his wife wanting a divorce. The speculation in the papers was that Ms. Carlisle had proven her case, but the judge hadn’t wanted to grant her motion because she’d become emotional.

  The last thing this case needed was a drama queen.

  The bells at St. Anthony’s rang.

  Grandpa King stood in Mack’s doorway. “I found the perfect buckle for your lady friend.” He handed Mack a delicately carved wooden shoe box. “And I thought you might deliver it to her.”

  “This was Grandmother’s box.” The shoebox had been lined with velvet and had once held his grandmother’s wedding shoes, the shoes she’d worn when they met. The box had been stored above Grandpa King’s workbench since her death ten years ago.

  “I used the buckles from her shoes. Pearls, not rhinestones.” Grandpa King winked. “Diamonds aren’t always a girl’s best friend.”

  “But….”

  Grandpa King didn’t wait to argue. He left, and Lovey scuttled after him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mack hadn’t seen 3B since the night she’d been stuck on the fire escape. His phone was replaced. His eyes had recovered. He tried not to remember that kiss. He wasn’t going to go soft when he saw all that blond hair and those big blue eyes.

  Didn’t matter how many times he counseled himself, Mack was nervous about seeing her today—her and her divorce lawyer. The Tremaines were going to try and work out the big issues of the divorce for the first time. Mack would wait until another meeting to drop the custody bombshell.

  Mack sat with Eddie in the clear glass conference room. Mack tapped his pencil. Eddie stroked his goatee.

  In his mind, that room was a fish bowl. How he hated being a fish.

  Through the glass walls he could see 3B come into the office, looking like a dream in a tailored blue business suit, a colorful pink and orange scarf around her neck and that bright blond hair swinging. The only difference today was that she wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses. She looked confident, capable, and everything Mack had ever wanted in a woman.

  She was followed by her lawyer, who wasn’t as tall or as blond or as captivating. In fact, she looked rather bitter. Cynthia Carlisle looked as if she hadn’t taken her downfall in the big city well last month. In fact, it was hard to believe she’d be passionate about anything. Cynthia Carlisle was a sour woman who looked like she might not make it through the day.

  Lovey gestured toward the conference room and led them over

  Mack stood and went to the fish bowl’s door, introducing himself. “Thank you for coming…Mrs. Tremaine.”

  3B blinked behind those thick lenses. And then she chuckled. “I’m Cindy Carlisle. It’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Prince. Or should I call you 3A?” She turned to the bitter-looking woman behind her. “This is Anna Tremaine, my step-sister and client.”

  Mack’s ears rang and he didn’t think it was the bells of St. Anthony striking this time. 3B was opposing council? Not the woman he planned to cleave from her child. 3B was opposing council? The same woman who was willing to put everything on the line for a stranger’s child, even if it meant tarnishing her reputation.

  Maybe she had overreacted in the courthouse before, in a moment of weakness, but this was a woman who’d fight for what was right. She’d done so before. And she wasn’t a broken thing. She was confident and capable and passionate. For the first time in a long time, Mack wondered if he wanted to win.

  “The attorneys need a moment alone.” Mack led Cindy out of the conference room and into his office and closed the door behind them. “You’re Cindy Carlisle?”

  “Since the day I was born. Is that why you stopped kissing me the other night? You thought I was Anna?” She chuckled again. “The woman at the farmer’s market was right. I almost didn’t recognize you now that I can see again.”

  “I’m so glad you find this amusing. I thought you were a blind woman.” Mack hesitated, but Cindy wasn’t playing the dragon lady. She was—and always would be—calm 3B. Mack took the wooden shoebox from his desk and presented it to her. “For you.” He hoped she loved the new buckles.

  Cindy looked perplexed, but opened the box. “My shoes! The buckles aren’t the same, but they’re beautiful. How did your grandfather ever find these? They look vintage.”

  “The box and the buckles belonged to my grandmother.” He stepped closer, close enough to catch the scent of Cindy’s floral perfume. “The pearls are real. Would you put them on?”

  Her gaze met his. Accepting. Longing. Hesitating. “But…Our clients….”

  “They can wait.” He took the box from her and dropped to his knees, encouraging her to lift first one foot and then the other, so he could set them on her feet. He gazed up at her. “I know about your reputation for fighting for what’s right. The day we met, I kept thinking you were nearly blind, but you kept smiling and trying and pushing forward. You wouldn’t quit or roll over, not even when I surprised you in the park. And yet, you do it with such grace. I envy that.”

  “My mother used to say I’d persevere if I was barefoot in a snowstorm. I guess that applies to situations where I break my glasses, too.” She admired the shoes, and then her gaze turned serious. “But perseverance and determination aren’t always enough. It’s no guarantee that the courts will see things my way. I…I did quit. I hit a wall in the courtroom and I lost my composure. After that, I couldn’t practice there again. Opposing council would always try to rattle me, and judges would always wonder if I needed a recess to stop a meltdown.”

  “You came here to make a new life.”

  Her words lacked their usual optimism. “I’ll always be known as the attorney who cried. It’s horrible that a child died…. She died because of my mistake. And yet her death proved that I was right.”

  The sunlight through his window caught the highlights in her hair. “You should always follow your intuition.”

  The smile returned, soft, regretful. “The day we met, I felt the frustration build again. The sense that I couldn’t save something as inconsequential as a shoe. But your voice…. It calmed me.” She drew Mack to his feet. “And then a woman at the farmer’s market told me that my prince was coming and that I’d meet him through these shoes, through the buckles.” Her smile was as radiant as a spring flower. “Do you believe in Fairy Godmothers, Mr. Prince?”

  “I do now, because you and your shoes…. You must be my Cinderella.” He brushed aside a stray strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her, gently, tenderly, as if she was as fragile as the vintage shoes on her feet. Someday, if things worked out between them as he felt they could, she’d work with him as his partner. Together, they’d help each other through life’s ups and downs.

  “Our clients,” Cindy murmured after what seemed like far too short a time.

  “Right. Right.” Mack straightened his tie and adjusted her scarf. “Dinner? Tonight? My place?”

  She blushed. “Yes.”

  He opened the door and led her to the fish bowl. But their clients were gone.

  “Boss?” Lovey stood at her desk. “The Tremaines made up. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I got tired of watching them, so I kicked them out.”

  He hoped Lovely never retired.

  The clock tower at St. Anthony’s chimed.

  But it wasn’t midnight, and Mack’s Cinderella didn’t disappear. He had the shoes and the girl and all the time in the world to live happily ever after.

  Copyright © 2015 by Melinda Curtis.

  Kate Capulet hails from the Pacific Northwest. She likes the smell of books and coffee (together or separate), and bites her lower lip when she’s trying not to say something wildly inappropriate. You can reach her at katecapulet@gmail.com.

  SUSAN SHAVES

  by Kate Capulet

  Susan stared at herself in the hotel bathroom mirror, chewing on her lower lip. The bikini fit, but only if she redefined “fit” to mean “covers nipples and crotch.” She wanted to take it off and hide under the covers of the hotel room bed.

  At least my hair looks good, Susan thought. Her long blonde hair hung over her shoulders, trailing down her back and breasts. I think my hair would cover more than this bathing suit.

  Claudia called from the other side of the bathroom door.

  “Susan are you done in there? Everyone else is down at the beach already.”

  Claudia, her roommate for the next ten days, was already changed into her bathing suit. She’d changed right there in the room in front of Susan with no regard for modesty.

  Susan had blushed furiously at the sight of Claudia’s nakedness, and taken the plastic bag with the swim suit she’d just bought into the bathroom. Though she admired Claudia’s uninhibited manner, no way was she changing in front of anyone.

  Susan studied the little blue bikini and her bits of pale flesh poking out the sides and made a decision.

  “I can’t wear this,” Susan called back through the door. “I’m going back to the store to get a different one.”

  Claudia sounded irritated. “Susan come out. Just let me see it? I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Susan took a deep breath. Reached for the door handle opened the door and stepped out. Claudia sat on the hotel bed, knees crossed, bouncing one foot impatiently. Susan felt a pang of jealousy. Claudia had naturally tan skin with dark hair and brown eyes. She looked like an exotic super model in her black bikini.

  “Ta da,” Susan said unenthusiastically. She spread her arms trying to be nonchalant, but failing.

  She could feel the heat in her cheeks as Claudia studied her.

  “You look great!” Claudia smiled.

  “It doesn’t fit,” Susan said fiddling with the small triangle of fabric covering her left nipple trying to get it to stretch further to cover more skin.

  “That’s how it’s supposed to fit.”

  Claudia stood from the bed and walked over to slap Susan’s hands away from the swimsuit. Claudia circled Susan, the latter blushing furiously.

  “Oh,” Claudia said when she got up close. A frown creased her forehead. “You need to take care of that before you leave this room.”

  The word “that” was punctuated with Claudia pointing her finger at Susan’s crotch.

  Susan looked down. A bit of pubic hair stuck out on either side of the triangle of blue fabric.

  Susan shrugged.

  “I told you it doesn’t fit. I need to go get the other one. It won’t take me long.”

  Susan bent for a pair of shorts and tank top she’d left in a pile on the floor.

  “No,” Claudia said. “What you need to do is shave. Friends don’t let friends grow their bush out. You brought a razor, right?”

  Susan nodded, but she was worried. “I’ve never shaved before. I’d probably just cut myself.”

  Claudia blinked. “You’ve never shaved?”

  Susan shook her head.

  A slow grin spread across Claudia’s face.

  “You’re in for a treat then. Back in the bathroom.” Claudia gestured one manicured hand to the bathroom.

  “Wouldn’t it be faster to just go buy the other one?” Susan said, and her roommate gave her a playful shove.

  “Go. Run a bath. Find your razor. Then call me.”

  Susan trudged into the bathroom, the tile cold against her bare feet. She turned the tap and let the tub fill. She ran her hand under the water until it was a comfortable leg-shaving temperature.

  While the tub filled, Susan hooked her thumbs under the strings of the bikini bottoms pausing before sliding the bottoms down. She bit her lower lip.

  “Um, can’t I just shave around the edges?”

  “Take it off,” Claudia called back. “All of it. Hurry up, lady. The beach is calling my name.”

  Susan sighed and slid the bottoms down, stepping out of them and trying to ignore the swarming butterflies inside her. She pulled the strings holding the bikini top on and let the top fall to the floor.

  Susan studied her naked body in the mirror while the tub filled.

  Her breasts were firm and high, the nipples pink against her pale flesh. Susan watched them grow hard as the cool bathroom air hit them.

  “Not even enough for a handful,” Adam would have said. He’d never liked the size of her breasts. Come to think of it, Adam hadn’t liked much about her at all. He’d never said anything about her pubic hair though. Perhaps if she’d shaved he wouldn’t have broken up with her.

  Susan heard her friends’ words of sympathy after the break up. Susan, he isn’t worth being sad over. Good riddance.

  Susan looked at the triangle of hair between her legs and wondered what she would look like without it. Quite to her surprise, the flesh between her thighs seemed to pulse at the thought.

  Why, Susan.... You’re horny!

  Well so what if she was. Watching herself in the mirror, Susan ran her fingers across the peak of one hard nipple, enjoying the tingles it sent through her body.

  “Is the bath filled?” Claudia voice came from the other side of the door. Susan jumped, her hand flying away from her breast.

  “Yes, it’s filled,” she called back. She quickly walked over to the tub and stepped into the warm water, letting her feet adjust to the heat.

  “Okay, good,” Claudia said. The bathroom doorknob turned and Susan gasped.

  “Wait! I’m not dressed!” She plunked her naked body down into the warm water crossing her hands over her breasts.

  Claudia walked into the bathroom, tsking at Susan. “Of course you’re not dressed. You can’t shave if you’re dressed. Where’s your razor?” Her voice had an echoing quality from where Susan sat in the tub.

  Susan pointed at her bathroom bag on the counter then hastily snatched her hand back. The warm water did nothing to relax her as her roommate dug through her bag.

  “You have to let your skin acclimate to the water first,” Claudia said, her back to Susan.

  While she waited, Susan looked Claudia up and down.

  Claudia’s back and arms were toned, but not overly muscular. Susan let her eyes trail down her roommate’s spine to her buttocks. Shapely and curved, the black bikini bottoms dimpling the soft flesh only a little. Her hips were shapely, her legs long and slender. Her black string bikini top cut a straight line into a bow on Claudia’s back.

  Susan felt her sex pulse again and looked away, disgusted with herself. Claudia was just trying to be helpful.

  Claudia finally found the razor. “Here it is.”

  Susan held out a hand covering her breasts with one arm. “Thanks.”

  Her roommate grinned. She did not hand her the razor.

  “Nope. Your first time should be done right.”

  Susan frowned pulling her arm back into the water. “What do you mean ‘right’?”