Page 51 of Cinderella Hired for His Revenge

Her gaze darted around the hall, her heart thundering in her chest. She’d expected Grant to be there, overseeing every last detail. But she’d only seen Pamela’s catering staff and Jessica, who marched around in her impossible stilettos wielding a tablet like a shield and her pen like a sword.

A sigh escaped. It was better this way. Dumping something as large as an apology entwined with a confession of love right before one of the biggest events of Grant’s career was poor timing at best, and selfish at worst. Perhaps she could follow up with him next week, bring him a congratulations bouquet and tell him in the privacy of his office.

Or you could be a big girl and tell him you’d just like to talk to him instead of finding an excuse.

She brushed away the pesky internal voice and started to walk away.

“Miss Moss!”

Jessica’s voice cracked across the hall with the power of a lightning bolt. Alexandra turned slowly, half expecting Jessica to smack her on the back of the hand with the tablet. Truly, the woman had missed her calling as a drill sergeant.

“Yes?”

Jessica surveyed the tables with a critical eye. Had she thought Grant was the one she needed to impress? He might make the occasional recommendation, but it was the people like Jessica, the people who ran so much of what happened behind the scenes, that could make or break a business like hers.

Jessica’s head snapped back around and she stared at Alexandra for a moment. And then she did the last thing Alexandra expected.

She smiled. A true smile that softened the harsher lines of her face and transformed her statuesque beauty into jaw-dropping gorgeousness.

“This looks wonderful, Miss Moss.”

“Th-thank you.”

“I was skeptical when you first came to the Carlson. But you’ve taken these events from cold, sterile presentations to warm, inviting events. Exactly the kind of atmosphere Mr. Santos, Ms. Jones and the other executives wanted to create for his clients.” She glanced down at her watch. “Ms. Jones is taking care of a small emergency with the entertainment hired for the evening, but I sent her pictures of the arrangements. She’s very pleased and would like to visit with you at a later date about upcoming events for the Pearson Group.”

Alexandra returned her smile even as her heart jumped at the thought of continuing to work for Grant’s company. She could do it, she told herself firmly, even if it hurt like hell.

“That means a great deal coming from you, Jessica. I know your standards, and Ms. Jones’s, are exceptional. Meeting them makes me feel very proud of The Flower Bell.”

Jessica arched a brow. “Which is great. But you should feel proud of yourself, too.”

Warmth flooded Alexandra’s chest. She’d often disassociated from The Flower Bell, referring to it instead of herself, afraid of developing the kind of ego that had led her father down his dark path. But, she acknowledged as she shook Jessica’s hand, she’d poured a lot into her career. She’d worked hard, and her hard work was finally paying off.

“Thank you.”

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. “You’ve been good for him, too.”

Alexandra outwardly froze, her effort to keep her face neutral at odds with her heartbeat accelerating into a gallop. “What?”

“He’s more relaxed. Approachable. The Pearson Group is my third startup. He’s very intelligent, as you know. But I worried that his focus on achieving his version of success would deter clients. I like the Mr. Santos I’ve seen the past couple weeks.” Jessica grimaced. “Minus the sullen, grouchy fool he’s been this past week.”

A reluctant smile tugged at Alexandra’s lips despite the ache building into her chest. She missed him. She missed his sharp wit and intelligence, his dry humor and encouragement. He was the only person who had never discouraged her, who had always told her she could do whatever she set her mind to.

“I messed up, Jessica.”

The admission slipped out before she could stop it. But it was time; time to stop hiding behind who she used to be, behind her fears and self-loathing.

“It takes two, Alexandra.” Jessica surprised her again by laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t write off the past just yet.”

With those enigmatic words hanging in the air, Jessica turned and marched off, the clicking of her heels echoing off the soaring ceilings.

Before Alexandra could begin to dissect what Jessica’s cryptic message meant, her phone dinged. She pulled it out and frowned at the unfamiliar number.

Double-check the flower arrangements in the rooftop garden.

Perhaps Jessica had given her number to one of the museum staff? Or maybe Laura Jones had shared it with a member of her team. With a resigned sigh, Alexandra headed to the elevators. She wanted nothing more than to go home, sink into her old-fashioned claw-foot tub and relax in a warm bubble bath as she talked herself through how she would contact Grant and what she would say.

But she’d already netted several new contracts, including two weddings in addition to Ellen’s, a New Year’s Eve party and an anniversary celebration, which would keep The Flower Bell running long into the next year. Her initial goal of boosting the shop’s profile had worked. Time to follow through, even if she felt like a tornado whirled inside her chest.

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