Red Rock Cinderella

7/30/2019 Red Rock Cinderella

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Red Rock Cinderella

After a week of roughing it in the wilds, Clay Baldwin drove back to Red Rock, looking as if he'd misplaced his razor days ago and had been bathing in a cold mountain spring.

But then again, that's exactly what had happened.

He probably should have gone home so he could shower and shave before going out in public, but tonight he was too tired and too hungry to care.

For the past few days, he'd been surviving on the fish he could catch—as well as the canned foodhe'd taken with him—so he was more than ready for a hearty dinner. And what better place tofind the Mexican food he'd been craving than at Red, one of the most popular restaurants intown.

He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror of his car, seeing little trace of the corporate

executive who usually peered back at him. Two months ago, he would never have consideredgoing out in public resembling a down-on-his-luck drifter. But the scruffy, laidback look fit thenew Clay Baldwin. The time he'd spent alone these past few days had changed his view on a lotof things.

Or maybe the harsh realities of life had begun to alter his perspective long before he'd loaded uphis brand-new camping gear into his new Mercedes.

Clay made his way through the crowded parking lot and into the busy restaurant that had once been an old hacienda. He would have been completely unaware that it was the holiday season if it weren't for all the lush poinsettia plants, little twinkly lights and a huge Christmas tree with

Southwestern ornaments adorning Red.

The hostess, a woman in her mid-fifties, offered him a friendly smile. "I'm sorry, sir. It'll be a bitof a wait. Our manager is having his wedding rehearsal dinner here tonight, and we'reshorthanded."

Clay had known that Marcos Mendoza was marrying Wendy Fortune. He'd been invited to thewedding, but he'd instructed his executive secretary to tell them he couldn't attend the ceremony

—a happy occasion for some, but one that would only drag him down. He'd asked his assistant tosend an appropriate gift instead.

"I don't plan to eat here," Clay told the hostess. "I'd just like to place an order to go."

"No problem." The woman reached for a notepad.

After Clay ordered the hearty carne asada plate, the hostess left him to wait in one of severalseats in the entry.



He hoped he wouldn't see anyone he knew tonight since he looked more like a vagrant than acorporate executive. Besides, he wasn't in the mood to answer questions about how he wasfeeling and where he would go from here. In truth, he was still coming to grips with the loss of his best friend and business partner, Connor Reynolds.

Two months ago, Connor had died of a massive coronary at the gym where they both workedout. Connor had only been in his late-thirties, so his death had been a total shock to Clay. It hadalso forced him to reevaluate his own life, since he and Connor had shared the same work ethic,rarely taking any time off.

Ironically, it was that work ethic that had enabled Clay and Connor to build a successfulcorporation and to become multimillionaires. But even though Clay had amassed a fortune, henow realized it was worthless if he had no one to share it with, no one to leave it to someday.

Connor, on the other hand, had left his estate to his gold-digging wife, who'd not only beencheating on Connor—causing him additional stress that had probably contributed to his heart

attack—but who also thought she would step in and become Clay's new business partner. What anightmare that would have been. She would have bankrupted the company once she got her hands on the company credit card.

Clay knew that for a fact because just after she and Connor were married she'd nearly forcedConnor into the poorhouse before he canceled all his cards and had threatened to divorce her if she didn't stop her spending.

Fortunately, both Clay and Connor had enough foresight to include a buy-out clause when they'dfirst created their corporation. So before she could bankrupt his company, Clay had offered the

poor widow a sizable amount for her shares, which she'd pounced on. Now Clay owned a

hundred percent of the stock shares.

When the main door to the restaurant opened, an older man in a sport jacket entered andapproached the hostess. "I'm here for the Mendoza rehearsal dinner."

"It's on the patio," the woman told him.

The well-dressed man nodded, then took off to find his party.

Clay sighed. It seemed that everyone he knew was getting married or having babies these days.And after Connor's death, Clay was forced to realize that his once-charmed life wasn't all it was

cracked up to be. But now that he was back in Red Rock, he was determined to settle down andcreate a family—if he could just find a woman who was honest and true, someone who wasinterested in him for more than the things he could buy or the fancy places he could take her.

When the door opened again, a petite redhead entered the restaurant, her cheeks flushed from thecrisp, wintry air. She wore dark denim jeans that hugged her hips nicely and a white, long-sleeveT-shirt under a green Christmas vest.



Her pretty hair was a remarkable shade of Irish red and windblown as if she'd been walking onthe moors. Yet he was even more drawn to the color of her eyes, a vivid shade of emerald green,highlighted by lush, black lashes.

She wasn't what you'd call beautiful, but she was certainly appealing. And she had a wholesome

aura about her….

In fact, Clay was probably looking for someone a lot like her—at least, in appearance. As hestudied her, a smile stretched across his face.

The hostess returned, drawing Clay from his musing when she announced, "I've placed your order. If you don't mind, I'll ring up your bill now."

Clay got to his feet and reached for his wallet. But as he felt his back hip pocket, which had pulled apart at the seams, he came up empty-handed.

Had it fallen out?

"I'm sorry," he told the hostess. "I…" He reached into his front pocket and pulled out three one-dollar bills which he'd crammed in there this afternoon when he'd received change from a coffeeshop just off the interstate. "I must have left my wallet in the car."

The hostess crossed her arms as if doubting his explanation. But before he could respond, theredhead stepped forward and placed her hand on his forearm, sending a spiral of heat hurtlingthrough his bloodstream.

When he turned and caught her gaze, she offered him a sympathetic smile. "I'll pay for your

meal."

Did she think he was down and out? He supposed he couldn't blame her for that. He probablylooked like a transient.

He started to object, to tell her that he was far from penniless, but then thought better of it. Whatif his wallet wasn't in the car? He'd be embarrassed if he refused her offer and still couldn't paythe bill.

Besides, the old Clay had a habit of always picking up the tab. What would it hurt for him toaccept and appreciate someone else's generosity once in a while?

As he wrestled with himself, she added, "Christmas is the season for giving." Then she offeredhim a shy smile and a little shrug, as if that explained it all.

And maybe for her it did. Not only did she appear to be wholesome, she apparently had a goodheart as well. Clay couldn't remember the last time an attractive woman had made an offer likethat without expecting anything in return from him. So he was reluctant to let her get away

before he learned more about her.



"Thank you," he said. "That's very kind of you. Would you mind if I told the kitchen to put ahold on my order?"

The redhead cocked her pretty head to the side, clearly perplexed by his question.

If she knew him better, she would realize that he hadn't become a very successful businessman by relying on chance and letting the chips fall where they may. He made things happen.

"Christmas isn't a time to be alone, either," he said. "And if you're here by yourself, I'd like youto eat with me."

As she pondered his comment, his pulse rate soared.

She placed her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. "Normally I'd say no."

And under "normal" circumstances, he wouldn't want an attractive woman to think he only had

three dollars to his name. But nothing seemed the least bit ordinary about this evening.

And for one wild and crazy moment, the redhead held a bit of holiday magic in the palm of her hands.

Chapter Two

Ella Stewart studied the stranger who'd asked her to join him for dinner—and on her dime.

With her current financial outlook what it was, she shouldn't have stopped for take-out food inthe first place, let alone offered to pay for someone else's meal. But as she'd reminded him, itwas the Christmas season, and it seemed only right to help someone who was less fortunate thanshe was.

"What do you say? Should I let the hostess know we'd like a table for two?" His eyes, amesmerizing shade of blue, gazed at her as though her agreement might change his bad luck togood with a nod of her head.

She nearly laughed at that, since her own ship had yet to come in. And if truth be told, it seemedto be sailing farther and farther out to sea. But what would it hurt? Since Aunt Aggie was havingdinner with one of her nephews, the alternative was for Ella to eat alone in front of the television.So she said, "Sure. Why not?"

The man said something to the hostess, who then left her post. When she returned a momentlater, she smiled. "There's one last table in the courtyard. Apparently, the couple I'd seated thereearlier decided it was too cold and went into the lounge to eat."

"How cold is it?" Ella wondered if she was dressed warm enough to sit outdoors.

"It's a little chilly," the hostess admitted, "but we have heaters."



Ella glanced at the down-and-out stranger, who offered her a wide grin. His eyes glimmered in away that made her want to look beyond his worn clothing and his scruffy beard to the man

beneath.

"Okay," she said. "That works for me."

The hostess led them to the quaint courtyard, with a rustic old fountain, its water gurgling. Thesoft sounds of mariachi music coming from another room made the setting even more romanticthan it might have been otherwise.

They took a seat at a small pine-wood table for two, and moments later, a busboy brought themglasses of water, as well as two types of salsa and a woven basket containing chips.

"My name's Clay," he said. "What's yours?"

"Ella." She was glad he hadn't shared his last name. They were clearly on the same page about

what their dining together meant. On a night when so many couples and families were out on thetown or nestled together at home, they wouldn't have to be alone. Something told her she and thisman might be kindred spirits in a way, always standing on the outside looking in.

"So what brings you to Red?" she asked.

"I was hungry, and there wasn't much in the fridge or the pantry."

She wondered if he'd really left his wallet in the car—or if he even had a vehicle. But she let itgo. It really didn't matter. They would share a meal, give each other some company, then go their separate ways.

"So what do you do for a living?" she asked, making small talk.

He hesitated, and she realized that if he was between jobs, the question had been a low blow. Asa sense of awkwardness hovered over the table, he finally said, "I'm in sales. How about you?"

She wished she could claim to be a doctor or schoolteacher or lawyer. But she'd never gone tocollege, something she now regretted.

"Actually, my job is ending after the holidays, so I'm looking for work."

He leaned forward, as if he knew of an open position. "What kind of experience do you have?"

She smiled and gave a little shrug, deciding to own up to it. "I've done it all—dog walking, housesitting, waitressing, working at a day-care center. Right now, I'm taking care of my elderly great-aunt, but that's soon going to change."

Again, he gazed into her eyes intently, as if everything she said mattered.



As if she mattered.

It was a welcome feeling for Ella, particularly after the past few months. She'd been beggingFred, the trustee of her aunt's trust, to reconsider his decision to sell the house and move AuntAggie into a retirement home, but she might as well have been pleading with a tree stump. None

of her relatives would listen to her, and she'd begun to feel like a second-class citizen, at least inher own family.

"Why?" Clay asked. "Is your aunt ill?"

Ella paused, wondering how much to share with a stranger, then decided a man she'd never seeagain was probably safe. Besides, it was nice when someone asked her opinion without accusingher of having ulterior motives.

So she told it like it was. "No one expected my aunt to live to be eighty-four, and the nest eggmeant to last through her golden years has dwindled away. The house needs a new roof, as well

as new wiring and plumbing. So her nephew has decided to sell it, rather than fix it up. And he's planning to put her in an assisted-living facility."

"How does your aunt feel about that?"

"She's not happy. And neither am I. She's really spunky, and I think that moving her out of theonly home she's had for more than sixty years is a bad idea. But she's not my mother, and I haveno say about any of it."

"I can't imagine anyone ignoring your opinion, especially since you're the one who lives withyour aunt. If I were the nephew, I'd welcome your thoughts."

His understanding, his vote of confidence, settled over her like a balm. How nice to havesomeone in her corner for a change.

Ella reached for a chip, but as she pulled her hand back, the delicate antique bracelet Aggie hadgiven her this morning snagged on the basket and caught.

"Oh, no." She hated to pull it free. The chain was old and delicate.

"Here," Clay said. "Let me."

He placed one hand on her wrist, spiking her heart rate and sending a surge of heat zippingthrough her blood. Then he fingered the silver chain with the other.

"This is an interesting piece of jewelry."

As much as the gift had meant and as touched as she'd been when Aunt Aggie had given it to her,she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the stranger's gentle grip, of the heat of his touch, thetumble of her heart.



"It's an heirloom," she finally said. "It's been in the family for years." Then she added, "Please becareful." But she was talking about more than the piece of jewelry.

"Don't worry." And true to his word, moments later and after a little tug, he pulled it free.

"Thank you." Ella rubbed her wrist, more to massage the spot that still buzzed from his touch,even after he'd let go.

"It sure is sparkling in the candlelight," he added.

She held it up to the candle burning on the table, noticed the shine. "My aunt had it cleaned at alocal jewelry store the other day, then asked them to place it in a small velvet box, just to make itappear more valuable. But as far as I'm concerned, this bracelet is worth more to me thananything in that store."

He took her hand, setting her heart on edge all over again. "It's beautiful. And so are you—inside

and out." Then he caught her gaze and shot her a dazzling smile that took her breath away.

In spite of his ragged appearance, there was something very appealing about him. In fact, if heshaved and put on a dress shirt and a pair of slacks, he'd make the perfect date. Not that she'd hadmany guys ask her out in the past few years.

So who was this man?

And what was he doing to her?

Her mother had always said that it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it was a poor

man. But Ella wasn't so sure about that. Not when she found herself yearning to lose herself inher dinner companion's eyes.

But how involved should she get with a man whose future wasn't any brighter than hers?

She'd better end the evening before she lost her head and got in too deep. She knew very wellwhat the cost of that would be. She'd been devastated by a relationship that hadn't worked out inthe past. But even more than that, she'd been let down by Fred, who'd made promises to her hehadn't kept.

If a woman couldn't trust family, whom could she trust?

So as Clay tossed Ella another heart-thumping smile, she plotted her escape.

Chapter Three

Dinner with Ella had been an unexpected delight. And while Clay would have given anything tohave an ice-cold Corona with his meal, he wouldn't take any further advantage of her offer tospring for dinner when she was losing her job and probably couldn't afford it.



So, for that reason, he'd requested water to drink. He'd also ordered two tacos à la carte instead of the hearty—and more expensive—carne asada plate he'd decided on earlier.

It was one thing to let Ella believe he was struggling to make ends meet, but there was no wayhe'd let her pay a hefty bill when a smaller one would do. Even then, he would make it up to her

—somehow.

He risked another glance across the table, noting the way the candlelight glistened along theglossy strands of her hair, the way her expressions danced across her face, telling him that therewere no secrets behind her smile, no hidden agendas.

From the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, she'd intrigued him. And her appeal had only grownstronger with each minute he'd spent in her company.

"The food is good here, isn't it?" She looked up from her plate and smiled.

"It's the best." Yet it was more than the food making him glad he'd stopped by Red tonight. Itwas Ella herself.

She reached across the table and placed her hand over his, warming his blood and stirring upemotions he'd never realized he had, like faith and hope and maybe even love.

Then she smiled at him, revealing a pair of dimples that turned him inside out. "Things are goingto really look up for you in the New Year."

They'd perked up already—right this minute, in fact, with her gazing at him as if she knew thefuture, as if she really did hold a bit of magic in her hands.

He marveled at her optimism, at the sensual lilt of her voice. At the serendipitous way in whichthey'd met.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Because your luck is going to change, Clay. I can't tell you how I know it, but I do."

Oh, his luck had changed, all right. He couldn't quite explain it, either, yet he also knew it to betrue. And he wasn't talking about his finances. He was talking about everything that trulymattered in life, those things he'd tried to prioritize while he'd been camping. The ones that had

begun to really fall into place this evening. A lasting relationship with a woman that was built onlove, on trust, on truth.

Like the truth of your net worth? His conscience rose up, prodding him to come clean. He'dalways been honest in his relationships, whether they were business or personal.

But he couldn't do it. Not until he had more time with her, not until he knew for sure that her magic wasn't just smoke and mirrors. He sensed that Ella wouldn't be swayed by his wealth, that



her interest in him was real—but Connor had thought that way, too, and his wife had played himlike a fool.

And Ella was interested in him, all right. He'd noticed her stealing glances at him all duringdinner—and once, when he'd caught her flat-out, she'd flushed and looked down at her meal.

The pheromones that had been swirling around him all evening had been buzzing around her,too.

At that moment, the waiter brought their check—and with it the awareness that their eveningtogether was ending. Clay noted a change in her expression, a mood change maybe.

Was she, like him, sorry to see their evening end?

Clay fought the compulsion to reach for the check, to lay his credit card down—which wasn'tavailable since it was in his wallet, and hopefully, in his car. Yet he let Ella take the bill instead.

"Thank you," he said.

She tossed him a carefree smile. "You're welcome."

A man who'd come from behind Clay moved past the table—probably on his way to the men'sroom.

Clay hadn't needed to see J.R. Fortune's face to recognize the tall rancher with a lanky swagger and a head of blond hair. The two of them not only had a business deal in the works, they had

become friends, too.

When J.R. returned through the courtyard, he'd be facing Clay and would undoubtedly stop tosay hello. But that would blow Clay's cover before he was ready.

Deciding to find J.R. first and ask him to play along, Clay lifted his napkin, blotted his mouth,then said, "Would you excuse me, Ella? I'll be right back."

"Of course."

As Clay headed for the men's room, Ella's cell phone rang.

He didn't think anything of it until he got back to the table several minutes later and found Ellagone.

For a moment, he thought that she, too, had gone to the restroom. But then he saw she'd lefttwenty-five dollars in cash next to the bill and a note scribbled on a cocktail napkin.

Clay, I'm sorry I had to leave. Thanks for the company. Wishing you the best, Ella.



That was it? She'd left without saying goodbye? Without leaving a phone number or telling himher last name?

Every last bit of luck Clay had ever seemed to have drained right out of him, leaving himunbalanced and at a loss.

She was gone?

Clay scanned the courtyard and beyond, looking for the woman who'd promised to be more thana passing fancy, but he didn't see hide nor tail of her.

When he turned back to the table, he spotted her bracelet lying next to her discarded napkin,glistening in the candlelight. He picked it up, noting that the delicate chain was broken—maybefrom when it had caught on the basket earlier this evening.

Would she notice it was missing before she got home? Would she come back for it?

Yet one question was even more pressing of all: Would he ever see her again?

Yes, he told himself. He had to find her. And not just to return the heirloom.

He took the bill as well as the cash, and carried it to the hostess, who was also the cashier. "Didyou notice the woman I was with?"

"Yes. She went outside."

"How long ago?"

"Two or three minutes."

Damn. Why had he taken precious time to ask J.R. about the upcoming wedding? Why had heeven left the table at all?

Just minutes ago, he'd found a new direction for his life. And now?

Clay went to the door and peered into the parking lot, but he didn't see Ella getting into her car.In fact, there weren't even any vehicles pulling onto the street.

She was really gone.

But where?

He took a moment to wrap his mind around his loss, then he rallied. Whenever he wantedsomething, he went after it—a trait that had worked well for him in business. And one he hopedwould work for him now.



He opened his hand and peered at the bracelet that lay in his palm. The heirloom she'd left behind wasn't much to go on—certainly not a glass slipper—but Clay Baldwin knew what hewanted.

And his heart was set on finding his Cinderella if it was the last thing he did.

Chapter Four

While Ella had eaten dinner with Clay last night, she'd tried to conjure a reason to leave beforehe had a chance to ask her out or to assume that sharing a meal together had meant more thaneither of them had expected it to.

She couldn't risk another disappointment, especially when Fred's lies and broken promises had just about crushed her.

Then a phone call from Aunt Aggie had provided her with the perfect excuse.

Aggie's nephew Fred, the oldest and most selfish of the two, had dropped her off at the housewithout waiting to see if she got inside safely. But when the older woman had reached the door and dug through her purse, she hadn't been able to find her key.

Instead of calling Fred and asking him to come back, she'd called Ella. "There's no need for youto rush home to let me in, dear. I have a sweater. I'll just wait on the porch until you get here."

"I'm just paying the bill now, Aunt Aggie. I'll be there in five minutes."

After ending the call, Ella had left the money to cover the check and a tip on the table, as well asa note for Clay, explaining that she had to leave unexpectedly. Then she'd dashed out the door and climbed into her car before he could return from the men's room.

There was something cowardly—and probably even tacky—about ducking out while he wasaway from the table, but if he'd gazed at her one more time as if she was the only woman in theworld, she might have completely lost her head and started putting more stock in him as a…Well, as a romantic interest. And she had no business getting involved with anyone until shelanded a new job and found another place to live.

After all, she'd promised herself that she would become self-sufficient and never be reliant onanyone else ever again for her future security. And that was a vow she meant to keep.

She'd only driven a couple of blocks from the restaurant when Aunt Aggie had called again,saying she'd found her key after all. But Ella had continued home.

When she'd entered the old Victorian, she found her auntie sitting in the rocker and watching theevening news.

"How was dinner?" Ella asked.



"It was okay. Fred doesn't ever have much to say, but he took me to the Peking Palace, myfavorite restaurant."

"I like that place, too."

"Then you'll be happy to know that I brought home the leftovers. If you're hungry, they're in therefrigerator."

"Thanks, but I had a taco salad at Red this evening." Ella placed her purse on the bottom step of the stairway.

"I really wish you would have come to dinner with us," Aggie added. "You could have kept theconversation going."

Ella would have rather had a root canal than sit across the table from the man who wanted tomove his aunt into assisted living, especially since his reasons for doing so were selfish. The old

Victorians on Bluebonnet Lane had increased exponentially in value over the past two years, soit was no mystery why he'd put Aggie's house up for sale.

But the cost of assisted living would be more expensive than keeping Aggie at home, even withthe expense of repairs, so Ella suspected something other than Fred's greedy side was behind his

plans: he was tired of caring for his aunt. He denied it, of course, but he'd lied to Ella in the past,and she wouldn't put it past him now.

Ella had asked him to reconsider his decision to sell, but he'd told her it wasn't any of her business. He was the trustee of Aggie's family trust, and he'd do as he saw fit.

Sadly, the fact that the elderly woman had practically raised Ella's mother and been like agrandmother to Ella meant nothing in the legal scheme of things.

"I really wasn't in the mood for Chinese food," Ella told Aggie. "And you don't get many chancesto spend time alone with Fred."

Aggie let out a little "humph" and gave a half shrug, which left Ella to wonder if Aggie mighthave preferred a dental appointment this evening, too.

But she couldn't blame Aggie for that. Fred was asking her to leave the only home she'd knownfor nearly sixty years, even though she was still spry, fairly healthy and as sweet as ever.

Ella loved looking out for Aggie and would have done so out of love and loyalty, even if Aggie'snephews hadn't paid her a small stipend. And while the room and board increased the value of her earnings, she could make a lot more money working elsewhere.

But Ella never had put that much stock in money, although she wished that weren't the case now.If she had the funds, she'd purchase the house herself and let Aggie live here as long as shewanted.



She turned to her aunt and smiled. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No, thanks. I had more than enough with dinner." Aunt Aggie cocked her silver-haired head tothe side. "You're not wearing the bracelet I gave you. Did you put it away?"

Ella lifted her arm, noticed her bare wrist, gasped and uttered, "Oh, no!"

Had it fallen off in the car? Or maybe at the restaurant?

Her stomach lurched. What if she'd dropped it while dashing through the parking lot to her car?What if someone had run over it or found it and claimed it as their own?

She hated to admit that she'd lost something so valuable, so special. But it was obvious that shehad, and there was no way she'd deceive her aunt. "I had it an hour ago, Aggie. I'm going back toRed. I'm sure I'll find it."

After searching the car first and coming up empty-handed, she drove to the restaurant and spoketo the acting manager, who told her no one had turned it in.

"You should call back tomorrow," he said. "We have a janitorial service that comes in after weclose. I'll tell them to keep an eye out for it."

She nodded, then went out into the parking lot and searched the ground to no avail. With her heart heavy, she drove home. Fortunately, by the time she arrived, Aggie had already gone to

bed, so the confession could wait.

The next day, Ella waited until late morning to call Red and ask if her bracelet had been found,

but it hadn't.

And now, as she hung up the telephone, she tried to find the words to tell Aggie that it was lostforever. It would be so much easier to lie, to say Ella had put it in the safe deposit box at the

bank, but lying went against her grain, no matter how difficult the truth might be.

Before she could head for the kitchen, where Aggie was preparing lunch for the two of them, thedoorbell rang, giving her a momentary reprieve.

She crossed the room and swung open the door, then gasped. There, standing on the stoop, wasthe man she'd had dinner with last night—shaved, fresh from the shower and wearing a crooked

grin that nearly dropped her to her knees.

She wanted to ask what he was doing here and how he'd found her, but in the myriad emotions,the least of which was surprise, she was speechless.

Chapter Five

Clay couldn't help but smile as he gazed at Ella, her eyes wide, her lips parted.



"It took a little detective work," he said, "but I found you."

She bit down on her bottom lip and furrowed her brow.

Uh-oh. He didn't want her to worry that he might be a stalker, so he raised his hand and unfolded

his fingers, revealing her bracelet.

She glanced at the heirloom, then back at him, tears flooding her pretty green eyes. "Oh, thank goodness. You found it."

Then she carefully took the bracelet from his outstretched palm.

"One of the links is broken," he said, "which caused it to fall from your wrist during dinner. Inoticed it on the table."

She studied the damaged chain, then fingered the family heirloom as if it were a priceless relic.

And to her it was, at least in sentiment.

When she looked at him again, her expression morphed from one of surprise to wonder. "Thank you for taking the time to return it. But how did you find me?"

"You mentioned that your aunt had recently taken the bracelet to be cleaned, so I went to every jewelry store in town until I located a jeweler who recognized it." And once he had AgathaStewart's name, it hadn't taken much effort to track down the woman and the great-niece wholived with her.

"I don't know how to thank you," Ella said, swiping a tear from her cheek.

Just seeing her again and having an opportunity to ask her out was thanks enough. "Dinner lastnight was a nice trade-off."

She paused a beat, then glanced out into the street—looking for his vehicle, he figured. But shewouldn't find it. He'd parked his new Mercedes three blocks away, hoping to continue his "poor man" charade, at least for a while longer.

Moments before Clay had arrived at Ella's house, he'd received a call from the attorneyrepresenting Connor's widow. Apparently, the gold digger was hoping for another cashsettlement to keep her from suing for the stock she still felt entitled to. It just went to show that

money brought out the worst in some people.

"Did you walk all this way?" Ella asked him.

"Walking is good exercise. Besides, it wasn't all that far."



Again his conscience tweaked, but he shook it off. He wasn't ready to tell her the truth yet. Hisheart and hormones might think it was possible to fall in love at first sight, but he was a man of reason and knew better than that.

Ella swung open the door and stepped aside. "Please, come in. Aggie and I are making

sandwiches for lunch. Can I offer you one—either turkey or ham and cheese?"

"Either sounds good to me."

After he entered the house and closed the door, he followed Ella into a cozy kitchen with yellowwalls and old-style white appliances. An elderly woman, who had to be Ella's aunt, stood at thecounter with a loaf of bread, lunch meat and condiments.

Ella made the introductions, calling Clay "a friend" and explaining to her aunt that Clay hadfound the bracelet and returned it to her.

Aggie brightened, although she seemed to be more excited to see Clay than the missingheirloom. "You're just in time for lunch, young man. Have a seat at the table."

Clay thanked her, then complied. "But you'll have to let me do the dishes or something inreturn." Clay might be playing the role of a poor man, but he wasn't going to continue to let Ellafeed him.

"Actually," Ella said, "there is something you can do for us. Do you have any plumbing skills?"

The question took him aback. "Well, that depends. What seems to be the problem?"

"Our garbage disposal isn't working, and the sink has been plugged up. One of Aggie's nephewswas supposed to either come by or send someone to fix it, but… Well, it's been several days, andhe hasn't gotten around to it yet."

That sounded simple enough. Clay's dad had been a handyman—one of the best in town—andhe'd insisted that his sons learn a few tricks of the trade.

"I'd be glad to take a look at it," he said.

"And after you do that," Ella added, "we have a lot of other things that need doing around here. If you have the time, we'd be more than happy to pay you for your trouble."

So she really was under the impression that he had no car and was out of work. He supposed thefaded jeans he'd chosen to wear, along with the "lucky" shirt he'd kept since his freshmen days atcollege, had her further convinced.

Again, his conscience urged him to set her straight, but the whole down-on-his-luck thing wasworking for him. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to spend more time with her.



So after they'd eaten a pleasant lunch, Clay asked Ella if she had a wrench he could use to loosenthe pipes, as well as a bucket to catch the dirty water. While she went to get the things he needed,he removed everything from the cupboard under the sink so he had access to the drain.

Minutes later, he'd cleaned out the pipe that had been plugged and prepared to put the plumbing

back together again.

"I don't suppose I can get one of you ladies to empty this bucket for me," he said, still stretchedout on his back under the sink and reaching for the wrench.

"I'll do it," Aggie said.

But instead of taking the bucket outside or to the laundry room, she emptied it into the kitchensink, where the dirty, stinky water poured through the open pipes and splashed onto Clay's faceand shoulders.

"Oh, no," Ella cried out, when she realized what had happened. "I'll get a towel."

"Goodness," Aggie said. "I'm so sorry, Clay. I just… Well, I guess I wasn't thinking clearly."

Clay, his face and chest sopping wet, climbed out from under the sink, glad he hadn't blurted outan obscenity. "It's okay, Aggie. No harm, no foul."

"Here," Ella said, handing him a towel to dry his face. "Why don't you let me show you to the bathroom where you can wash up."

Clay would have told her that it didn't matter, but that dirty water had been nasty. So he followed

her out of the kitchen, down the hall and to an open doorway.

Once inside the small room, he turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm. Out of thecorner of his eye, he saw Ella lean against the door frame and he turned to her, his gaze lockingon hers. Something stirred between them. Sexual awareness, for sure. And a yearning to exploreit.

Rather than broach the subject, he turned back to the sink and rinsed his face, using the bar of soap on the counter.

Ella came closer and handed him a fluffy blue towel. "I'm so sorry. She gets a little scattered

sometimes."

"Don't worry about it." Clay chuckled. "Those things happen."

"I know, but, if it's all the same, I'm sorry it had to happen to you." She offered him a prettysmile, then added, "If you'll give me your shirt, I'll rinse it out and throw it in the dryer."



"All right. Thanks." Clay peeled off the wet material, but as he began to hand it over, Ella's lips parted and her gaze sketched over his bare chest.

She swallowed, as though finding it difficult to speak, to move.

And the awareness, the yearning, returned full force. They stood frozen for a moment, caught upin a swirl of sexual attraction and…well, who knew what else.

But this time, it was impossible to ignore. It might be a risky or crazy move for him to make, butClay couldn't help doing what seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

He placed his hand along her jaw, brushed his thumb across her cheek, then lowered his mouthto hers.

Chapter Six

As Clay's thumb stroked Ella's cheek, his gaze locked on hers, Ella's heart raced in anticipation.And when he lowered his mouth and kissed her, she dropped his wet shirt to the floor and placedher hand on his waist.

As their lips met and his tongue sought hers, the kiss deepened until she thought she would meltinto a puddle at his feet.

For a moment, she not only forgot where they were, but who they were—still strangers to eachother. Yet nothing seemed to matter other than this magical moment in time. And when the kissfinally ended, leaving her craving so much more, she didn't think she'd ever be able to breatheevenly again.

"I'd wondered how kissing you would feel," he said.

She'd wondered the same thing, especially when she'd caught sight of him without a shirt.

And now they both knew exactly how it felt—star-spinning, earth-shaking. And…promising.Which made no sense. After all, she'd only just met him yesterday. And he'd been very light ondetails of his life.

"You look a little uneasy," he said.

To say the least.

"I, uh…" She stepped back, then bent to retrieve the wet shirt she'd dropped. "I'd better rinse thisand get it in the dryer."

Yet instead of moving, she remained rooted to the spot, as the bathroom walls seemed to close inon her, on them.



Her gaze, which had been locked on those stunning blue eyes of his, lowered to his bare chest, asight that had triggered that amazing kiss in the first place. Yet she couldn't help taking a secondlook at the magnificent perfection of his broad shoulders, well-defined pecs and six-pack abs.

Oh, for Pete's sake. She'd been ogling him. Had he noticed?

She risked a glance at his face, where a crooked grin lit his eyes.

Shaking off her embarrassment and ignoring the heat that had undoubtedly flushed her cheeks,she nodded toward the doorway. "I'd better get out of here, or your shirt will never dry."

Then she turned and headed for the laundry room, more than ready to put a little distance between herself and the sexy stranger she still knew way too little about.

When she got as far as the kitchen, Aggie had just finished mopping up the water from the floor.

"Don't worry about that," Ella said. "Sit down and relax. I'll take care of the mess."

Aggie pulled out a chair, but before taking a seat, she smiled and said, "Your young man is verynice."

"He's not my 'young man.' We're just friends."

Of course, friends didn't kiss the way they had just moments before. And as much as she'd like toforget what had happened, she had a feeling she'd be dreaming about it long after Clay went back to wherever he'd come from.

After rinsing out the shirt and putting it in the dryer, Ella returned to the kitchen.

"You know," Aggie said, "if Clay is a handyman, we could certainly use him around here."

Ella supposed he might like the extra work, but was it a good idea to invite him into their lives?After all, what did she know about him?

Not much. And even when you thought you knew someone, she reminded herself, they couldstill prove to be someone else entirely. At one time, she'd thought of Fred as a father, only tohave him show how selfish he really was, leaving her nearly destitute and with no say in her lifeor Aggie's.

"Do you think we should ask Clay if he would be interested in a side job?" Aggie asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I hope he would be. Fred never seems to take any of my complaints seriously. He'd rather sell the house than make any more repairs. And it breaks my heart to let it go."



Ella crossed the room, placed her hand on Aggie's shoulder and gave it a gentle and affectionatesqueeze. "It breaks my heart, too."

"It can't be helped, I suppose." Aggie let out a weary sigh. "But this house could be so beautifulagain—if we had the money to renovate it."

"I know, but the truth is, neither of us can afford to do much more than we already have. And sowe should let the new owners worry about any repairs and renovations."

Sensing the presence of someone else, Ella looked up to see Clay standing in the doorway—barechest and all. Goodness, if she had something that might fit him, she'd offer it to him, just to saveherself from fawning over him like a lovesick adolescent.

"Did you hear what we were saying?" Aggie asked.

***

Yes, Clay had pretty much heard it all, especially the part about how much Aggie loved the placeand hated to move, but he didn't want to admit that he'd not only been deceiving Ella, buteavesdropping, too.

So he said, "Just that you might be in need of a handyman."

"That's what I meant," the elderly woman said. "Would you be interested in having a side job?"

Clay shot a glance at Ella and tried to gauge how she felt about having him around more often,especially after that heated kiss they'd shared.

She'd seemed pretty shaken by it, but then again, why wouldn't she be? When they'd come up for air, he'd been so amazed and aroused by it that he'd been afraid he'd lose his head and saysomething he might live to regret—like, "I could fall for you."

That might be true; he was certainly feeling something for her. But he didn't want to make amistake by opening up his heart too soon to the wrong person.

Sure, there was something powerful brewing between them—and love might be just around thecorner, but he wouldn't make any confessions about the depths of his emotions—not to mentionany claims of wealth—until he knew without a doubt that she was the woman he hoped she was.

"We do have a few odd jobs that need to be done," Ella said. "But we can't afford to pay verymuch."

"If we did have the money," Aggie added, "we'd hire a contractor to renovate the house, likeseveral of the other people on the street have done. But since we don't, my nephew would rather sell than to spend any money on improving the value."



Clay had noticed the For Sale sign on the front lawn when he'd arrived.

"What's your nephew have to do with it?" Clay asked.

"He's the executor of my estate, and I made him the trustee a couple of years ago. Back then, he

seemed to be a lot more understanding, more sensitive to my wishes."

"Did you tell him that you'd rather stay here?" Clay asked.

"Yes." Aggie's voice softened. "But he thinks it's best if I move to an old folks' home. He says I'll be happier there, but I know he'd just rather not bother with the house—or with me any longer."

"I'd buy it myself," Ella said. "It breaks my heart to think of you leaving."

"I'm an old woman," Aggie said. "I can't blame Fred for not wanting to take care of meanymore."

"Is your trust irrevocable?" Clay asked.

"I'm not sure," Aggie said. "Why do you ask?"

Because Clay had a top-notch attorney who'd drawn up his own trust, and it was possible Aggiecould still make changes—if she wanted to. But maybe it was best if he didn't get involved, so hesaid, "I was just curious. Sometimes, those trusts can be changed. Maybe you should talk to your attorney."

Aggie seemed to think on that for a while.

"Either way," Ella said, as she turned to Clay, "would you be interested in helping us with a fewfix-it projects?"

She was giving him permission to come back? To see her on a regular basis?

A grin tugged at one side of his lips, but he forced a serious expression. "Yes, I'd be glad to. ButI can't show up until after eleven each day." He'd scheduled interviews at the office all this week,hoping to find someone who could take on the projects Connor had been working on when he'ddied.

"Why can't you come any earlier?" Ella asked. "Aren't you a morning person?"

Actually, Clay was up each day at the crack of dawn, but he paused, thinking out his answer. Hewanted to be as truthful as possible, so he'd have to remain vague. "I've got some…jobinterviews lined up."

"Well, good luck," Ella said. "I hope you find the perfect position soon."



Something told him he'd found perfection already. After all, everything he'd seen so far clearlyshowed that Ella had a kind, loving and loyal heart. And she wasn't overly concerned aboutmoney and what it might provide her.

All he needed was a little more time with Ella, then he'd know for sure.

Chapter Seven

Just as he said he would, Clay stopped by Ella's house the next morning around eleven, and hecontinued to show up at the same time for the next two weeks, ready to do whatever they neededhim to do.

He fixed leaky faucets, repaired broken electrical outlets, mended shutters and even mowed theyard and trimmed the big tree out front.

He took a liking to the place and began to come up with ways to renovate the old Victorian. Andtoday, after he helped Ella take down the holiday decorations, he suggested that they paint theexterior.

"I'm afraid that would be way too costly," Ella said.

"Who knows," Clay said. "Maybe you'll win the lottery."

"Yeah, right." She cast him a pretty smile, and it took everything he had not to wrap his armsaround her and kiss her senseless. To tell her that her worries were over.

With each day he spent with her, he became further convinced that he'd fallen in love with her— and that she'd probably had his heart from that first night he'd met her at Red. After Connor died,Clay had wanted to change his life because it had felt empty, but now that he'd met Ella, he'dfound a sense of purpose and more.

In fact, he'd almost told her yesterday how much she'd come to mean to him, but he'd held off.

He knew she felt something for him, too. And that those feelings were for the man he really was —and not for the lifestyle he could provide her.

But yesterday, when he'd made an offer to purchase Aggie's house, he'd heard something thatcaused him to continue exercising a little caution.

His real estate agent had mentioned that Fred Stewart, the man selling the property, had said hisniece, who currently lived in the house, wasn't to be trusted. She wanted to remain living withAggie for free, when the woman was getting senile and needed round-the-clock care.

Clay had remembered the episode with the dirty sink water. But nothing he'd seen sinceindicated it wasn't safe for Aggie to live on her own.



He'd also wanted to argue in Ella's defense, to say that he'd gotten to know her and that FredStewart was wrong. He was sure of it…but not quite sure enough to lay his heart on the line. Sohe hadn't admitted his identity to her yet—or revealed his attempt to buy her and Aggie all thetime they wanted to stay in the old Victorian.

Okay, so maybe there was another reason. He was also dragging his feet because he hadn't quitefigured out how to tell her that he hadn't been completely honest with her.

But he would.

Soon.

***

Ella stood at the kitchen window and looked out into the yard, where Clay had just finishedcutting back a tree branch that had been weighing down on the fence. Now he was in the living

room, putting lubricant on a squeaky window.

She was amazed at his strength, at his work ethic. He gave all his effort, all his focus, to each jobhe took on. In fact, he seemed to have a personal stake in renovating the old house, somethingthat touched her heart.

In fact, there was a lot about the man to… Well, a lot to love.

She realized she hadn't known him long, but he was everything she'd ever wanted in a man— kindhearted, dedicated, loyal and honest. Before meeting him, she'd been afraid to get too closeto people, especially after Fred's betrayal. But Clay listened to her and valued her opinion. So

how could she not trust him?

In fact, she'd begun to think that meeting Clay at the restaurant had been fate.

They'd yet to kiss again, but that didn't mean she wasn't tempted to catch him alone. And so she'dasked him to stay for dinner tonight, hoping that she'd find the right time to say that she'd like todate him, even if he didn't have any job prospects at the moment.

Okay, so there was still a lot she didn't know about him, but she hoped to put that behind her thisevening, over dinner.

She'd already asked him questions about his childhood, about his education, about his friends.Trouble was, his answers had all been pretty vague.

But maybe he hadn't lived a very exciting life.

As she prepared a chicken and rice dish, the telephone rang. When Aggie didn't answer, Ellarinsed her hands in the sink, dried them on a dishtowel, then grabbed the receiver from the mounton the wall. "Hello?"



"Where's Aunt Aggie?"

Ella wasn't sure what Fred had against her or why he'd become brutally short and to the point.Would it have hurt him to greet her?

"I'm not sure. I thought she was talking to the handyman, but she didn't pick up the telephone, soI'm not sure."

"A handyman? Tell her to stop wasting her money."

Ella bit back the anger and frustration Fred never failed to incite lately. "It's difficult when somany things aren't working properly around here."

"Yeah, well, that's not going to be a problem for you any longer. We got an offer on the housethis morning. And it was almost full price, so I accepted it."

Ella's heart sank as she realized the move was now imminent, that Aggie would have to live in aretirement home. And she would have to find a new place to live, a home that didn't have thesame loving memories.

"The details in the contract are a little unusual," Fred added. "But I didn't see any reason not toagree to them."

Ella gripped the receiver as though she could squeeze the details out of Fred. "What do youmean? What did you agree to?"

"The new owner can't move in until this summer, and he's adamant that the house not be left

vacant. He'd like you and Aggie to remain living there for the next six months. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Of course not." They'd been given a reprieve. The longer Aggie could stay in her home, the better.

When Fred ended the call, Ella hung up the receiver. Then she strode to the living room, whereClay was working on a squeaky window. She watched him for a moment, the way the sunlightshined on him with a heavenly glow.

He'd shown up in her life when she'd really needed a friend. Should she tell him that they didn't

require his services anymore?

Just the thought of not seeing him again turned her heart topsy-turvy. And that's when sherealized she'd fallen head-over-heart in love with Clay Baldwin.

The man might not have any money, but he had everything else that mattered. He was not onlyhandsome, he was sweet, kind, funny—but most of all, he was honest.



What more did she need in a man?

"Clay," she said.

He turned and shot her a boyish grin that sent her heart spinning. "Did you find something else

that needed fixing?"

Her future, maybe. But was it too soon to lay her heart on the line like that?

Old habits were hard to kick, she supposed. So she offered him a smile, rather than an answer,then asked, "Have you seen Aggie?"

"She's in the front yard, talking to a guy putting a Sold attachment on the For Sale sign."

Already?

"Thanks." Ella strode to the door then out to where Aggie stood talking to the Realtor.

"This man says the house is sold," Aggie told her.

"Yes, I know. Fred just called. But don't worry, Aggie. We won't have to move for another sixmonths."

"The buyer can't move in until then," the Realtor said. "So he's asking you to stay in the house soit won't remain vacant."

"I suppose that's nice," Aggie said.

"What do you know about the buyer?" Ella asked.

"Just that he's a corporate executive who paid cash for the property."

"No loan?"

"The guy's rich."

He must be, Ella thought.

"He asked for me to keep his name out of it, but…I don't see any problem in mentioning it toyou. You'll know it as soon as you get the papers. His name is Clay Baldwin. He's the CEO of asuccessful firm in Red Rock. And he's got the money to fix this place up, which is going toincrease the value for other home owners."

Clay? It couldn't be.



The man who'd let her buy his dinner? The man who pretended to be jobless? The man who wasinside the house right now, fixing things and checking out all the flaws?

Had he planned to purchase the house all along? Had he only been using her to get inside, to gainAggie's trust?

Ella shot a glance at the living room window, where Clay worked. He smiled at her—until heread her pained expression.

Chapter Eight

When Clay spotted the crushed look on Ella's face—the shock, the disappointment, the pain—hisheart dropped to his gut.

He wasn't sure what the darn Realtor had revealed to Ella just now, but it must have hadsomething to do with him. And from what he could see, Ella hadn't taken it very well.

Damn. He hadn't meant for her to stumble onto his identity before he got a chance to tell her himself.

He set the rag and can of lubricant he'd been holding on the windowsill, then headed outside totry to ease Ella's mind with the truth he'd been holding back. But before he could reach her, shemet him at the door, her hands folded across her chest and a fire in those pretty, green eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't exactly lie."

The flame that blazed in her eyes threatened to burn him alive. "Oh, no? You let me think thatyou didn't have a job or a penny to your name."

She had a point, but he'd never actually said he was unemployed and broke. "You came to thatconclusion on your own."

"But you could have corrected me."

Yes, he could have. And he probably should have. He'd deceived her, and while his reason for doing so had seemed justified at the time, he realized she wouldn't see it that way.

"I wanted a chance to get to know you better," he said.

She stiffened. "Excuse me?"

He wasn't so sure if he could explain without making it worse.

"You're angry," he said.



"You bet I am. I'm also shocked. And crushed. You were probably plotting to get inside thehouse all along."

"Now wait a minute." Clay placed his hands on Ella's shoulders, trying to connect with her again."That's not true, honey. I never thought about buying the house until I saw how sad you and

Aggie were about moving. So I made the offer this morning, asking that you remain here untilsummer. But even after that, I wouldn't have let you move until you wanted to."

"That doesn't make sense. Why would a man like you—a successful businessman, of all things— purchase a piece of property he had no intention of using?"

"I did it for you. Because I—"

She tilted her head to the side. "Because you what?"

Clay glanced at the people who stood near the For Sale sign, gaping at him and Ella. Then he

reached for her hand. "Come with me, and I'll try to explain."

He feared that she might put up a fight, but she walked with him through the house and out to the backyard.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"For starters, I'd like to have some privacy."

Once they were in the back of the old, three-story house, he led her to a wrought-iron chair thatsat under the elm tree. When they were finally alone, he said, "I have a confession to make."

"You should have made it a lot sooner."

"You're right. I realize that now. But when I saw you at Red, I knew there was somethingdifferent about you, something special. And I was determined to get to know you."

"It was a mean trick."

"Maybe so, but I never meant to hurt you. It's just… I've been with women in the past who saidthey loved me, when they were only interested in my money, my success. I've seen the damagethose kind of people can cause." He thought of Connor's widow. "And I wanted to make sure you

were different."

"Oh, I'm different, all right. I don't have any money to my name. And if I did, I'd use it to go back to school and get a college degree."

"I find that refreshing."



"Do you?" The flame, which had seemed to cool down a bit once he'd gotten her alone, flaredagain. "Well, I don't. And where is your sense of fairness? Didn't you think that I would haveliked to be able to get to know you? You didn't offer me the same courtesy that I've given you— honesty."

She was right; he hadn't thought of it that way.

"In a way, you did see the real me," he added.

Skepticism crossed her face. "How do you figure?"

"In the past, I was so focused on business, that I lost the real me along the way. That's why Ispent a week camping by myself. I'd just returned to Red Rock that night when I met you at Red.And it seemed as if you were…some kind of divine answer, I guess. A gift I'd been waiting for all my life."

As she wrapped her mind around that, he added, "I liked coming by the house and doing choresfor you and Aggie. And not just because you're beautiful and witty and charming. I actuallyenjoyed the fix-it projects, as well as mowing the yard, trimming the tree and pruning the hedges.In a way, while I was working on the house and in the yard, I was fixing all the broken and run-down things in my own life."

He scanned her face, trying to read her expression, hoping she understood what he was trying tosay. When she didn't comment, he said, "I'm sorry, Ella. And if you'll let me, I'll make it up toyou."

"How do you plan to do that?"

By pulling out all the romantic stops, he supposed. And laying his heart on the line.

Clay got down on one knee and reached for her hand. "I love you, Ella. And I want to spend therest of my life with you."

***

Ella blinked. Had she heard him correctly? He loved her? "I don't understand."

"I can't explain it, either. I never believed in love at first sight, but I'd never met anyone like you

before. I believe in it now. I fell for you, Ella. And I fell hard."

"I don't know what to say."

"Well, for starters, you could forgive me for deceiving you. I swear I'll never lie or hold anything back from you ever again. And then, maybe you'll agree to go out on the town with me, so I canshow off the woman I love."



All the anger, all the pain, faded away as she gazed into Clay's eyes and saw the love shiningthere.

She might have been angry at him for withholding his identity, but in doing so, she'd been able tosee the real Clay and to get to know him on a level she never would have allowed herself to

enjoy before. And it had given her the opportunity to share more of herself with him than shewould have under different circumstances.

"I love you, too," she admitted. "Although, I must admit, the money and success frighten me a bit."

"They frighten you?"

"I'm not well-versed on things like fashion or socializing at fancy places with the rich and thefamous."

"That's fine with me. You don't have to go anywhere or do anything if you're not comfortable. I'd be happy to spend every night at home with you."

Ella laughed. "I didn't say I was a homebody. It's just that I might not fit into your world."

"My world is anywhere you are, honey." Then he cupped her face, his eyes shining with love."So what do you say? Will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?"

Ella wrapped her arms around his neck and answered his question with a kiss that promised she'dlove him forever.

Fairy tales didn't get any better than this.

THE END

Red Rock Cinderella

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