The Cinderella Deal Read online

  Linc turned away to look out the window. “It’s a very common reaction to stress.”

  “I didn’t think you even had stress,” Daisy said. “It doesn’t seem in character.”

  “It isn’t,” Linc said shortly. “That’s why I breathe. Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure.” Daisy cocked her head at him. “If you’re not worried about the speech, why are you stressed?”

  “Look,” Linc began, planning to tell her to mind her own business, but then he realized she was right. He was wound so tight, he was going to be breathing through his hair at any minute. “I think it’s the lying,” he said finally. “I’m not a liar. I’ve never lied before. And now I not only lied, I dragged you into this whole mess and you’re lying too. It’s not right.”

  “It’s not a lie,” Daisy said. “It’s a story.”

  Linc looked at her, exasperated. “That’s semantics. They’re the same thing.”

  “No, they’re not.” Daisy scowled at him, and Linc remembered too late that she told stories for a living; he’d just called her a professional liar.

  “I didn’t mean to insult you—”

  “Lies are untrue,” Daisy said with all the sureness of Moses laying down the law. “Stories are unreal, but they’re true. They’re always true.”

  Linc shook his head. “I still don’t see the difference. I’m sorry, but—”

  “Listen.” Daisy leaned forward and gripped his arm to hold his attention. “If you tell a lie, you’re deliberately telling an untruth. If you’d told them you’d published six books, or that you’d taught at Yale, or that you’d won the Pulitzer, that would have been a lie. You’d never tell a lie. You’re too honest.”

  “Daisy, I told them I was engaged to you. That was a lie.”

  “No.” Daisy shook her head emphatically. “You didn’t tell them anything about me. You told them you wanted to get married and settle down in Prescott and raise kids.”

  “Well, that’s a lie,” Linc said, but he could see where she was going. “I told them what they wanted to hear.”

  “Yes, but it was what you wanted to hear too.” Daisy settled back in her seat. “Sometimes stories are just previews of coming truths. I bet you really do want that deep down inside your repressed academic soul. I bet your subconscious just wormed its way to the truth and laid it all out when you were too stressed and preoccupied with breathing to keep an eye on it.”

  “Very cute,” Linc said. “Would you like to explain the Alizarin Crimson, the daisy ring fiasco, and my brother from Jersey now?”

  Daisy shrugged. “Sure. Annie is an original cat, definitely one of a kind, and she’s reddish, so telling Guthrie she was an Alizarin Crimson was true in its own way. And you were treating me like a child bride in the store, not letting me pick out my own ring, so I became one. That one was really your story, not mine. And the brother part …” She looked up again, a little shy. “I think I just wanted somebody to rescue me, you know? Howard was being such a louse, and I just wanted somebody to stick up for me, the way a brother would. I get really tired of fighting my own battles. And then you came in, and I knew you’d stick up for me. I just knew you would. And you knew it too. That’s how I know it’s true, even if it isn’t real. You walked right into my story.”

  Linc pulled back. “I did not know it.”

  “Yes, you did.” Daisy leaned her head back on the seat. “You could have denied everything, or told me to shut up, or dragged me from the store, or walked out. Really, you could have done almost anything.” She turned her head to meet his eyes. “Instead, you were my brother from New Jersey. You knew it was true too.”

  “I’m still not buying this,” Linc told her, but he was irrationally cheered. Maybe he hadn’t lied. Maybe it had been a glimpse of the future. Maybe—

  The plane hit another air pocket, and Daisy clutched his hand. “How much longer to Prescott?”

  “About fifteen minutes to the Dayton airport. About another forty-five to Prescott by car.”

  “Are we renting a car?”

  “No, Crawford said he’d come pick us up.”

  “The dean? You must really rate.”

  “Not me. I told him all about you. He can’t wait. He calls you ‘Little Daisy’”

  Daisy closed her eyes. “Oh, no.”

  “So this is Little Daisy!” Crawford beamed at her. “Even sweeter than I’d pictured her!”

  He looked like an anti-Santa Claus, leering instead of beaming, and Daisy disliked him on sight. So this was what she had to impress so Linc could get the job. Just her luck. She ducked her head and smiled, and Crawford almost fell over backward from the wattage.

  “Lincoln, you are one lucky dog.” Crawford put his arm around Daisy, who stifled a shudder.

  Linc smirked. “Thank you, sir.”

  Crawford’s hand slid down over her hip.

  Daisy wanted to kill them both. This is what happens when you let other people tell the story, she told herself. Don’t do that again.

  Crawford had them out to the parking lot in no time. He waved them toward a big maroon Cadillac, and a chubby blonde waved back frantically. “This is my little woman,” he said as she disentangled herself from the front seat and got out of the car. “Chickie, honey, this is Linc and Daisy.”

  Chickie leaped on Linc. “Daddy didn’t tell me how handsome you were,” she said, and hugged him, and Daisy thought, Good, let him get groped for a change. Then Chickie turned on Daisy and her bright, vague smile widened. “And you must be Daisy! I declare, you’re a picture!” She threw her arms around Daisy, engulfing her in a cloud of Chanel No. 5 and gin. It smelled a lot like a drink Daisy had thrown up once at a college mixer.

  Daisy fought her way free. “Well, I’m just so delighted to meet you, Chickie. We’ll have to sit down later and have a girls’ talk.”

  Linc closed his eyes. Pouring it on too thick, Daisy thought.

  “We will, we will.” Chickie beamed and hugged her again.

  “Well, let’s go.” Crawford wasn’t having any fun and his leer was getting tired. “Let’s go.”

  Linc held the front passenger door open for Chickie and she was visibly thrilled. Then he held the back door for Daisy, and she resisted the urge to kick him on the ankle. “You’re such a darling,” she said instead, and batted her eyes at him. “I just love you.”

  “Don’t push it,” Linc said under his breath.

  “Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Chickie said to Crawford when they were all in the car.

  “Yes, she is.” Crawford leered over the seat at Daisy. “You’re a lucky dog, Lincoln.”

  By now Linc’s smirk was gone and his smile was pasted on. “Yes, sir.”

  This is going to be the car ride from hell, Daisy thought, and she was right. By the time Crawford had driven them to Prescott, helped them drop their things off at the motel, and then driven them out to the college, they’d heard what a lucky dog Linc was a dozen times, and Linc had said, “Yes, sir,” another dozen, and Chickie had never stopped babbling. Daisy was ready to scream, but she told herself that if she could keep smiling long enough to get into the lecture room, the Crawfords would have to shut up so Linc could give his speech. It was the only time in her life that she’d ever looked forward to a speech.

  As it turned out, she wasn’t destined to hear it.

  “You two go on along,” Chickie said when they were standing beside the car. “I’m going to show Daisy all of Prescott.” She flapped her hand at them. “Go on. Just go on.”

  Crawford frowned. “The faculty should meet Daisy. Professor Booker should meet Daisy. I—”

  “They can meet her at the party tonight.” Chickie fished her car keys out of her purse and waved Daisy toward the front seat. “You go on.”

  “Daisy would like to hear her future husband’s speech,” Crawford said, and the annoyance in his voice was plain.

  Chickie faltered. “Would you?” she asked, turning to Daisy.

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