Free Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella by Holly Jacobs Page B

didn’t know the first thing about men. Look at the man she’d almost married. Anyone with half a brain could see Winslow the fop was a worm.
    She’d take one look at Con and fall all over him, just like every other woman in the city had.
    Molly shouldn’t call Con Prince Charming, she should call him Con Juan —his own personal nickname for his friend. Con’s reputation with women was almost as legendary as the literary figure’s.
    Dan had left Charlie, vulnerable Charlie, out there with Molly. Out in the main office, where Con was bound to show up.
    He bolted from his desk.
    Dan could hear Charlie’s voice. “. . . and then he swooped in like a knight on a charger and rescued me.”
    Molly lifted her glasses and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I guess maybe you’re right. Dan can be charming, though none of us here have seen it.”
    “Honey, if you’d like to learn about charming, I’d be happy to teach you.” It was Con’s voice.
    Dan realized that he was too late.
    Charlie apparently didn’t hear Con’s offer, because instead of falling at his feet the way the rest of the female population did, she said, “And after Dan rescued me, he rescued Ida—”
    Dan hadn’t seen Con standing in the corner, but he saw him as he stepped forward. “Con, you don’t have to teach her a thing. Charlie, I need you back in my office. The first door on the right.”
    “Dan?” Charlie’s smile slowly melted into a nervous frown.
    “Go on, Charlie.” Dan nudged her toward the hall. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”
    Charlie shrugged, gave Molly and Con a little wave, and walked past him down the hall.
    As soon as he heard his office door shut, Dan walked up to his partner. Conrad Estoban was everything Dan wasn’t. Smooth, articulate, engaging. Add to that, he came from money. Con was everything Charlie needed in a man.
    Con might have been born into a prestigious family like Winslow, but he didn’t live on the family money or reputation. He’d walked into a partnership with Dan, pulling his own weight, doing the dirty work.
    Dan had never envied Con’s background or his looks or even his way with women. Con wasn’t just a partner, but a best friend, and there was no place in a friendship for jealousy. “We’re friends, Con. And as a friend, I’m warning you to leave Charlie alone.”
    “Does she have some disease I should know about?” Con’s startlingly blue eyes blazed with humor from beneath his dark brows.
    “No, she doesn’t have a disease. She’s vulnerable, that’s all.”
    “And?” Con didn’t shift from his lazy stance against the filing cabinet.
    Dan wished he felt so relaxed. He hadn’t felt the least bit relaxed since Charlie had crawled into his truck. “And she’s not for you to use and lose, like all the other women who you date. She’s off-limits.”
    Con’s eyes narrowed a moment, and then he nodded. “So that’s how it stands?”
    Dan shook his head, knowing and denying what Con was thinking. “It’s not what you think. I’m responsible for her and I don’t want her hurt. She’s been through enough already.”
    Con smiled, but it wasn’t a comforting sight. “That’s all?”
    “That’s all.” That was all it could be. He might be physically attracted to Charlie, but she wasn’t for him. She was still recovering from her almost-wedding. “She’s confused, and innocent. She’s not like one of your women.”
    “Boys.” Molly’s voice was sharp.
    Boys. Molly would never think of either of them as her boss, both Con and Dan realized that. She’d joined them when the company was new and struggling. She’d stood by them in all their rough times and had become their mother as well as a partner in the business.
    “That’s enough strutting like two preening peacocks,” Molly said. “Charlie struck me as a girl who can stand up for herself.”
    An image of Charlie hitchhiking in her wedding finery came to mind, and Dan smiled despite his annoyance. “She