CHAPTER 6 – Slipper Games and Public Claims
“Eva! Wait up!” Dani called out, jogging behind me.
After that insane encounter at the club last night, I’d stormed out, fuming. Dani had caught up with me just outside the front entrance, heels in hand, face flushed with concern.
“What happened? I saw you talking to that creep… and then Cole. Are you okay?” she asked, grabbing my arm gently to stop me.
“Do I look okay?” I snapped, before softening. “Wait—how do you know Cole?”
Dani blinked like I’d asked if water was wet. “Uh, hello? Cole Bennett? The youngest Bennett? From the Bennett family?”
My stomach dropped. “The billionaire Bennetts?” I asked in disbelief, though somewhere deep down, I wasn’t totally shocked. Of course someone that smug had money to match the ego.
She nodded like I was stating the obvious. “Girl, everyone knows who Cole is. How did you not know?”
I shook my head, suddenly exhausted. “Look, I just want to get out of here. I’ll explain everything later, okay?”
“But the drinks—” she started.
“I’m sorry, Dani. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I just need to breathe.”
Before she could object again, I took off into the night, the weight of the night clinging to me like a bad perfume.
---
The next morning, I put on the best dress I owned—a soft vintage number with a faded floral print and a modest high neckline. It hugged just enough to look elegant, not desperate. My curls were still intact from Dani’s styling the day before, so I pinned them into a loose bun and let a few wisps fall by my cheeks.
I checked on Mom before leaving. She was still asleep, peaceful and unaware her daughter was on the verge of becoming a public circus.
I was supposed to take the early bus downtown, but it had already rumbled past by the time I stepped outside. I didn’t want to call Dani after the way I bailed last night, so I started walking.
Bad decision.
Not five minutes in, I sidestepped a raised bit of pavement and—rrriip. I froze.
Please no. Not today.
I glanced down.
Of course. My right shoe had finally given up on life, the sole dangling pitifully like a broken promise. I crouched to examine it, but the thing was unsalvageable. My only pair of decent heels, wrecked on the first day of my so-called career.
“Awesome,” I muttered, taking the shoes off completely and walking barefoot.
Then came the sound of a car horn—low, smooth, expensive.
I turned. A sleek, black Maserati pulled up next to the curb, its windows slowly lowering like a dramatic movie scene.
And there he was.
Cole Bennett.
Looking unfairly good behind the wheel, sunglasses on, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel like he owned not just the car but the whole street. Probably did.
“You waiting for a miracle, Red?” he called out, smirking.
I groaned. “If you’re here to make fun of me, get it over with.”
Instead of replying, he simply kept the car rolling at my walking pace, obnoxiously calm.
“Want a ride?”
“Nope.”
“You sure? Barefoot, running late… I’m just saying, I’m the lesser evil right now.”
I ignored him and kept hobbling forward. The sidewalk gravel felt like needles under my feet.
“You’re really going to lose your first day on the job just to prove a point?” he asked.
I stopped. Damn him.
I had no idea what the job even was yet, and here I was, about to throw it away over pride.
Cole reached across the passenger seat and popped the door open with a quiet click.
“Come on,” he said, tone softer now. “Get in.”
I stared at the open door for a second longer, then sighed and climbed in.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I muttered.
He grinned. “Of course not.”
The car was everything you’d expect from a man like Cole—sleek, spotless, filled with the scent of expensive cologne and leather. The stereo played a pop song I knew too well. One I’d borrowed Dani’s headphones for just to loop on repeat. Not that I’d admit that.
“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he said. “And that’s saying something.”
“I’m flattered,” I deadpanned, staring out the window.
He chuckled. “Your shoe situation looks tragic, by the way. I’ve got a spare pair in the trunk.”
I turned back to him. “Why would you have women’s shoes in your trunk?”
“They’re for emergencies,” he said casually. “And before you say anything, they’re brand new.”
“Still no.”
---
We arrived at the building ten minutes later. I was about to bolt out of the car when he rounded the front and opened my door before I could touch the handle.
He held a shoebox in one hand.
“You’re not seriously still trying to—” I began.
Without warning, he swept me up into his arms like some damn fairytale prince. I shrieked in surprise.
“What the hell, Cole?! Put me down!”
But it was already too late. Paparazzi had appeared—like cockroaches drawn to a flash. I hadn’t even seen where they came from. Cameras snapped, lights flashed, voices shouted questions.
“Mr. Bennett! Who’s the girl?”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Is this a romantic surprise or a publicity stunt?”
He looked straight at the cameras, his voice cool and unbothered. “She’s stubborn. She’s cute. And yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”
My jaw hit the air.
“What?” I hissed through my teeth.
A woman with a mic pushed closer. “Mr. Bennett! This looks like a Cinderella moment. What were you planning to do when you lifted her?”
He smiled smoothly, then knelt slightly to place the box at my feet.
“Put on her glass slipper,” he said.
My soul nearly left my body.
What was he up to?
And why… why was part of me kind of… swooning?
No. Nope. We’re not doing this. Not over a man with spare shoes and a Maserati.
I was in so much trouble.
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