Page 31 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
He lets out a sigh as though he’s fed up of it already. Pictures of him that Scarlett took are all over the website with a sad-face emoji stamped on them, and Scarlett’s posted an update this morning saying some ‘potential princesses’ have already been in touch and we’re eagerly awaiting the results to find out whether they’re ‘the one’ or not.
I click onto our email account where Jackson has labelled a new inbox for incoming mail via the contact form. ‘Look, there are thirty-four messages already.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’ He leans forward so he’s pressed right against my side, and his closeness and aftershave make it difficult to concentrate on anything. ‘Thirty-four people who say they were at the ball with me on Sunday night?’
I step aside and he reaches out for the mouse and scrolls through the emails.
‘One of them is from Australia.’ His face gradually contorts in horror as he reads on. ‘One of them is eighty-nine! One is from a pair of identical twins saying they kept swapping throughout the night and are now offering me a threesome.’ He makes a frustrated noise and sits back, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘I thought it might work, you know? She said she wasn’t good at putting things into words, and I understand that all too well, and I thought getting in touch like this – quietly, privately, via email – would be less intimidating and give her time to think about what to say, but this is… a circus. Who are these people? Why say they’re her when they’re not? How can you ever trust anyone?’
I bend to take hold of the mouse and scroll through the slew of messages. There are endless emails from women, and men, claiming to be the one he’s looking for, including but not limited to a drag queen, a sixty-year-old who says she ran away because she didn’t want her husband to find out about her illicit affair with a prince, a chimpanzee trainer who had to get back to her chimps, and one who claims she was actually therealCinderella and her footmen were already turning back into lizards and her fairy godmother was waiting at home.
I didn’t expect this. I know the internet is a hotbed of madness, but I thought Scarlett’s contact form was just a token. I didn’t think we’d actually get people pretending to be the mystery woman. ‘Everyone wants to believe the world is better than it is. Maybe people are just looking for a fairy tale.’
‘That’s a lovely attitude.’ He holds his hand out and when I’ve slipped mine into it, he tugs me closer to his side, making my breath catch and heat tingle inside me. ‘I wish I could see the world like that.’
‘This story has ignited a sense of childhood nostalgia in people. Everyone grows up hoping life will turn out like it does for Disney heroines one day, and somewhere out there, a real Cinderella story is unfolding in front of their eyes, and if it can happen to someone else, there’s still a chance for them too. I don’t think they mean any harm. I just think they’dlikeit to be them, even though it isn’t.’
He lets out a breath and leans his head to the side so it’s resting against my upper arm, and for just a second, I wonder if he’s as comfortable with me as I am with him.
‘I’m sorry about Ebony earlier, she doesn’t realise how offensive she can be.’ I look down at the top of his head. He’s sitting and I’m standing, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him from this angle.
His hair is dark and long enough that it’s starting to curl, in a way that suggests it would be a mass of curls if he grew it any longer, and I love that he’s got curly hair too. At the ball, he had product in it that kept it spiky, and before I realise what I’m doing, my fingers brush through the splash of grey at his right temple. ‘I like the grey streak, you know. Very distinguished.’
Oh my God, what is wrong with me? I freeze in horror. I need handcuffs on when I’m near him. I’ve just touched this man’s hair. Touched a total stranger’s hair without even thinking about it, like he is somehow mine to touch. I am a socially awkward monster who should never be allowed to engage with other humans.
I expect him to pull away, but he tilts his head back and smiles when he meets my eyes. ‘Thank you. It’s never bothered me. I’ll be forty next year, and it hasn’t been an easy life. A few greys are fair game at this point.’
It makes me want to slide my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, and with his head tilted up like that, he’s at the perfect height for taking his heart-shaped face in my hands and lowering my lips to his.
He squeezes my hand, and it forces out words that I had no intention of saying. ‘Everything about you is exactly as it should be.’
Instead of cringing in embarrassment, his cheeks take on a pink tinge and he smiles as though he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.’
It would be so easy to tell him everything, and that thought is enough to make me pull myself together and move away. ‘Sorry, I must get on. I’ve got a fitting for a rainbow chiffon prom dress this morning and I haven’t finished hemming it yet.’
‘Am I okay to stay?’
‘Yeah, sure, take as long as you need. How else are you going to pick her out amongst all the lonely soldiers and distant Nigerian relatives who’ve left you a fortune?’
‘Believe me, I’llknowthe moment I see her again.’
It makes that annoyance prickle again. ‘Oh, you will, will you?’
‘I will,’ he says with a laugh. ‘I think we both know that the girl I’m looking for is not going to be found in this parade.’
I go to walk away and then turn back because I can’t stop myself prodding. Whatever I felt for him at the ball was something… magical, something I don’t think you find every day, and I’m fighting aneedto know if he felt it too. ‘You’re going to a lot of trouble just to see a good side of the castle. Either you really need those extra brownie points at work or maybe it’s really about something more. Was there something special between you that night?’
‘Like what?’ There’s a challenge in his eyes. He’s pushing me to say it.
‘Well, you did kiss her. A person could be forgiven for reading something into that. It sounds like things got a little… romantic. Maybe you felt something. Something like love.’
‘Love?’ he scoffs. ‘There’s no such thing as love. I don't believe anything is given freely without an ulterior motive. People only love someone else if there's something in it for themselves. The concept of love exists only to be used as a manipulation tactic.’ The stutter is coming out as his voice speeds up.
I bite my lip in an attempt to stop the pervading sadness showing on my face. ‘How can anyone go through life not believing in love?’
‘If only we all believed a fairy godmother was about to pop out from around the next corner, eh?’ He doesn’t sound as though he thinks it’s a bad thing. In fact, he sounds like he quite wishes he believed it, and I can’t help wondering what someone has to go through to get that cynical worldview, and what it would take to change it.
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