Tinderella Read Online Free
Author: Jecca Bartlett
is why we don't want to compete against her. She is small potatoes, and she's a one woman operation, and she's growing. We don't believe she'd be a significant threat, but why not own the market if we can? We've made the offer, and given her business manager a deadline. We expect she'll take it."
"Why?" said Pearce, doodling idly on the pad in front of him.
"Why what?"
"You said she'll take it, Why do you expect she'll take it?"
"It's a sweet deal, that's why. She won't have to compete against us for business, and she can go do something else with her time, invest the money. She does okay, but our sources show she hasn't got a lot of savings. This would provide that, some freedom and some security."
"Seems to me she has lots of freedom," Pearce said under his breath.
"What? Did you say something?"
"No, no, go on." Pearce said, but didn't mean.
The meeting droned on for another hour, mostly he thought so that his father could show that he owned them on Saturday too. What was that his dad had said about freedom for the Cynderella gal? He sure felt like he didn't have any.
Once the meeting was finally over they stood and began to clear out. Pearce glanced at the page he had been mindlessly drawing on during the meeting. It was covered in pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. He tore the page off, and crumpled it up. Then he paused. He un-crumpled it and folded it carefully and stuck in in his blazer pocket. He didn't know why exactly.
*******
CYNDI
Cyndi called Gooch from the parking lot. "I'm not going in, I changed my mind."
It was the eve of her first Tinder date and she was already sorry and she hadn't even gotten inside yet. She had picked him for terrible reasons really. Like for instance he hadn't said anything offensive right off the bat. Which wasn't a resounding endorsement, but it was less common than she would have guessed. There had been no mention of sex play involving cotton candy, which one guy had suggested. He hadn't said anything about piercings in unspeakable places, so he was in. Terrible reasoning.
"Why aren't you going in?"
"It was a mistake, I'm not cut out for this."
"For dating? It's hard to get anywhere if you don't date. I mean unless you want to join a cult and be a sister-wife or something."
"No, this meeting strangers out and then..."
"Everyone is a stranger until you meet them. Go inside, have fun. Call me when it's over."
"Okay," Cyndi sighed. "Fine. Just, fine..."
"You'll do great, it's going to be fun. Look, I'll send you a bail out text in 25 minutes, if it's awful you'll have a way out, and if not, I'll talk to you later."
Cyndi breathed a small sigh of relief, it was a lifeline anyway, if not a whole life boat. "Great, thank you," she said, and she straightened her skirt, checked her lipstick in the flip down mirror on her visor and headed inside.
She sat at the bar and ordered her apple-tini and scanned the crowd. None of the men at the bar looked familiar, but then who knew what picture the guy was using. She checked her watch, she was a few minutes early anyway.
She kept her eye on the door, and spotted him before he saw her. He looked a lot like his picture, to her relief. A point in his favor.
She caught his eye as he approached the bar and he said "Cyndi?"
"Yes, Poe, did I get that right? As in Edgar Allen?"
"Yep," he laughed, "mom was a librarian. What can I say?"
Well, she thought, librarian is normal, maybe his mom was pretty normal? That's good, right? Normal parents, normal men?
They chatted quietly for a while. Cyndi relaxed and then her phone binged. It was her bailout text and she texted back that things were fine.
"Was that your bailout text?"
"What?" Cyndi asked, she could feel the blush in her cheeks.
"I always like to at least get past the bailout text. I don't blame you, men don't have the market cornered on weird you know? Some of the women I've been with are a little crackers. You get used to it," he
"Why?" said Pearce, doodling idly on the pad in front of him.
"Why what?"
"You said she'll take it, Why do you expect she'll take it?"
"It's a sweet deal, that's why. She won't have to compete against us for business, and she can go do something else with her time, invest the money. She does okay, but our sources show she hasn't got a lot of savings. This would provide that, some freedom and some security."
"Seems to me she has lots of freedom," Pearce said under his breath.
"What? Did you say something?"
"No, no, go on." Pearce said, but didn't mean.
The meeting droned on for another hour, mostly he thought so that his father could show that he owned them on Saturday too. What was that his dad had said about freedom for the Cynderella gal? He sure felt like he didn't have any.
Once the meeting was finally over they stood and began to clear out. Pearce glanced at the page he had been mindlessly drawing on during the meeting. It was covered in pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. He tore the page off, and crumpled it up. Then he paused. He un-crumpled it and folded it carefully and stuck in in his blazer pocket. He didn't know why exactly.
*******
CYNDI
Cyndi called Gooch from the parking lot. "I'm not going in, I changed my mind."
It was the eve of her first Tinder date and she was already sorry and she hadn't even gotten inside yet. She had picked him for terrible reasons really. Like for instance he hadn't said anything offensive right off the bat. Which wasn't a resounding endorsement, but it was less common than she would have guessed. There had been no mention of sex play involving cotton candy, which one guy had suggested. He hadn't said anything about piercings in unspeakable places, so he was in. Terrible reasoning.
"Why aren't you going in?"
"It was a mistake, I'm not cut out for this."
"For dating? It's hard to get anywhere if you don't date. I mean unless you want to join a cult and be a sister-wife or something."
"No, this meeting strangers out and then..."
"Everyone is a stranger until you meet them. Go inside, have fun. Call me when it's over."
"Okay," Cyndi sighed. "Fine. Just, fine..."
"You'll do great, it's going to be fun. Look, I'll send you a bail out text in 25 minutes, if it's awful you'll have a way out, and if not, I'll talk to you later."
Cyndi breathed a small sigh of relief, it was a lifeline anyway, if not a whole life boat. "Great, thank you," she said, and she straightened her skirt, checked her lipstick in the flip down mirror on her visor and headed inside.
She sat at the bar and ordered her apple-tini and scanned the crowd. None of the men at the bar looked familiar, but then who knew what picture the guy was using. She checked her watch, she was a few minutes early anyway.
She kept her eye on the door, and spotted him before he saw her. He looked a lot like his picture, to her relief. A point in his favor.
She caught his eye as he approached the bar and he said "Cyndi?"
"Yes, Poe, did I get that right? As in Edgar Allen?"
"Yep," he laughed, "mom was a librarian. What can I say?"
Well, she thought, librarian is normal, maybe his mom was pretty normal? That's good, right? Normal parents, normal men?
They chatted quietly for a while. Cyndi relaxed and then her phone binged. It was her bailout text and she texted back that things were fine.
"Was that your bailout text?"
"What?" Cyndi asked, she could feel the blush in her cheeks.
"I always like to at least get past the bailout text. I don't blame you, men don't have the market cornered on weird you know? Some of the women I've been with are a little crackers. You get used to it," he
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