Stormy made it to the top of the trail and then peered out at the house, surprised to see activity in the backyard. Trucks were there hauling things away and the yard was almost back to normal, or what she assumed was normal, after that enormous party. Wow! These Anderson people moved really fast.
Putting her head down, she walked as quickly as her body-hugging little red dress would allow. She made no eye contact with anyone as she hurried along.
“Hello there!”
The boisterous voice startled her so much, she dropped her purse and jumped into the air. As she came back down, off balance, the heel on her shoe snapped, and after wobbling for a moment, she landed hard on her rear end.
“I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said—a freaking giant.
He approached quickly, moving far faster than she would think a man his age could. Bending down, he reached for her hand and easily tugged her back to her feet, where she teetered on the broken shoe.
She had no doubt that this was the famous Joseph Anderson, and she fully understood his reputation as a man to whom no one could ever say no.
“Don’t worry about it. I was in my own world,” she said, looking way up at his concerned expression. He had to be many, many inches over six feet. She only stood five feet six—in heels, and she was now short one of those. His silver hair only made him more distinguished in her opinion, and the twinkle in his surprisingly sharp blue eyes made her instantly inclined to trust him.
“Come on inside and we’ll get you fixed up,” he insisted as he pulled her toward the house. She stumbled behind him.
Uh-oh, maybe she could imagine telling him no after all. She wasn’t going into his house. Not a chance. She had to get away before Green Eyes awoke.
“Oh, no. I was just getting ready to leave,” she said, trying without success to tug against the beast of a man.
“I can’t send you off without making sure you’re all right, not after causing you to fall,” Joseph said.
“I promise you, I’m okay. I really just want to get going now,” she said as she continued to stumble along after him.
He stopped and looked at her, and Stormy’s cheeks flushed at what he must be thinking. He had to know she’d just walked away from someone’s bed. He must be wondering which guy it had been. Maybe he was worried about it being one of his kin. For all she knew, Green Eyes was related to Joseph. The man had sported a really nice boat that was docked on the Anderson pier.
“I’m Joseph Anderson, by the way,” he said, releasing his protective grip on her hand. It seemed as though he expected her to now introduce herself. Something she absolutely didn’t want to do.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. As I said, I’m doing just fine, so I’ll be on my way,” she said as she retreated. The first thing she did was remove her shoes and grip them tightly in one hand.
“Where’s your car parked, Miss . . . ?” He trailed off, obviously waiting for her to give her name again.
“I rode here with a friend. I’ve called a cab, and it’s picking me up at the gate, so I’d best hurry,” she said. She hadn’t yet called the damned cab, but she was planning to as soon as she escaped from the intimidating Anderson patriarch.
“Then I’ll walk you to the gate,” Joseph said.
This walk of shame just kept on getting worse and worse. Now the man was going to catch her in a lie. Her humiliation was complete.
“Well, I haven’t actually called the cab yet. I was just getting ready to when I ran into you. So I had best get going and do that. By the time I get to the gate, the cab will be waiting for me,” she said with a sheepish laugh.
“Nonsense, young lady. If you were a guest at the party, I insist on having my driver give you a ride home,” Joseph said, once again tugging on her arm.
Stormy gasped. “I couldn’t have you do that.”
“I won’t take no for an answer.”
And that was why the man always got his way, she decided.
Within a minute, a black car pulled up; a man emerged from the driver’s side and opened the back door for her. Stormy found herself practically pushed into the car, and the only relief she felt was when the car pulled away from the Anderson mansion.
She didn’t look back to see Joseph reach down and pick up the locket that had dropped from her neck, or the smile he wore as he held it.
All fairy tales must come to an end, and when she got home and walked inside, she was cruelly thrust back into the real world—her carriage was now a pumpkin again, and her glass slipper left behind . . .
CHAPTER FIVE
Six Years Later
Sitting on the deck of his favorite café in the old neighborhood, Sherman Armstrong leaned back as another roar of thunder sounded high in the sky. He knew he was the very image of the old grandfather resting in his favorite chair while children ran by wondering about him.
He liked that mystery about himself.
He was a stout man, though his body was a bit older and weaker now, and he was forced to use a cane while walking. He had a square jaw, bit too big of a nose, and had sometimes been called Dumbo because of the size of his ears. Yet one thing that was fully working, and sharp as ever, were his bright blue eyes, which showed an inextinguishable youthfulness and a lot of hard-learned wisdom. Life had taught him things that no one and nothing could ever take away.
Though Sherman was an incredibly wealthy man, he didn’t have a large wardrobe. He sat on the café’s deck wearing his favorite blue cardigan. Tomorrow he’d most likely wear the brown one. Those were the only colors he ever selected for his warm, wool sweaters. Of course, he did have a variety of plaid shirts that he mixed with the cardigans. Today he was wearing a green-and-blue one under his sweater.
He’d lived in the house across the street, where apartments now stood, when he was a young buck right out of the military in the sixties. This neighborhood was worn down and sometimes unsafe, but it was where he’d made a life for himself and for his beautiful bride, Betty Sue.
It was the place where he’d raised his family, and it was the place he would continue to visit until he took his last breath. His family had told him it was time to move on, but it never would be—not in his opinion.
“Do you think this storm will hang around for a while?” Sherman asked Joseph. He and Joseph Anderson had been friends since they were in grade school . . . and Sherman valued that friendship more than all the money in his bank account.
“I sure hope so,” Joseph told him.
“Then maybe I will accept your offer for brunch after we finish our coffee. You have a hell of a view from your place,” Sherman said with a laugh.
“That is very true, my friend. Say the word, and my driver will get us out of here,” Joseph told him. Katherine wasn’t allowing him to drive in bad weather anymore, not with his need for speed, and the accident that had almost cost him his life.
Looking across the street, he caught a glimpse of Stormy Halifax as she struggled to push open the doors to the apartment complex she lived in—the wind fighting her each step of the way. He had begun to stand to assist her when she managed to push through to the sidewalk.
She didn’t pause, looking to be in a hurry as she splashed her nice clean work clothes while rushing through the puddles of water to get to her waiting taxi.