Storybook Love: A Storybook Park Romance Read online

  * * * *

  Back at work on Sunday, Sara asked Rebecca why she was so quiet.

  “I know it’s a cliché, Sara, but life is so short. I was thinking I could be more forgiving. People do the best they can. I’m much too quick to judge.”

  “Is forgiving Jon part of your resolution?”

  Before Rebecca could answer, the intercom buzzed. Ben’s voice came through over the speaker: “Rebecca, Jonathan Eastman is here to see you.”

  She exchanged a surprised expression with Sara. “Okay. Send him in.”

  She hadn’t expected to test out her new plan so soon, but she squared her shoulders and resolved to act on her decision.

  However, it wasn’t Jon who entered her office. It was his father.

  Rebecca stared at her visitor for several seconds before remembering her manners. “Hello, Mr. Eastman. Nice to see you again. Please sit down.”

  Mimicking her actions from the first meeting with Jon, Rebecca nudged Mittens from the chair by her desk. Unlike Jon, however, his father wiped the seat with his handkerchief before he sat down. And he didn’t encourage the cat to jump onto his lap.

  “I think I’ll leave the two of you alone,” Sara said, throwing Rebecca a concerned look before exiting the room.

  “That girl’s hair is green,” the elder Eastman said, frowning. “You allow that?”

  “She’s a competent assistant, so yes.”

  Mittens tried to leap onto Eastman’s lap, but he shoved the cat away, eliciting a yelp.

  Rebecca scooped up Mittens and deposited him in her own lap. She refrained from giving her guest a dirty look and said, “What is it I can help you with?”

  “I want to know what’s going on between you and my son.”

  “What? Nothing.”

  “The two of you weren’t fooling anyone that night. I know you and my son are involved. Meanwhile, I have found no evidence that our company is even close to acquiring Storyland.”

  “Have you talked to Jon about this?”

  “I’ve taken him off the deal. I assigned him to desk work at headquarters. He didn’t perform his job properly, so I had to step in.”

  Despite herself, Rebecca gasped. Jon was no longer in the area. Did he know his father’s plans for him when he’d visited her the week before Christmas? Had he wanted to tell her, but she’d cut him off? She felt a dagger of guilt slice through her chest.

  She drew a deep breath. “I have no intention of selling Storytown to ThemeWorld or anyone else.”

  “So I suspected. You’ll find me a much worthier adversary than my son, however. I can make things very difficult for you, my dear.” He ran his finger along the stack of invitations for the fundraising ball, and she flinched.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Take it as you like. But just so you know, I always get what I want. And in this case, I want two things. One, Storyland. And, two, for you to stay away from my son.”

  Taken aback, Rebecca didn’t know which issue to address first. She decided what bothered her most was his warning her away from Jon. What right did he have to keep her from him? “Jon and I are not involved. But if we were, what business is it of yours?”

  “He didn’t tell you, then? He’s engaged…to someone much more suitable than yourself.”

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Rebecca sat alone high up in Robinson Crusoe’s Treehouse, drying her tears with a scrap of paper towel. Sara arrived and plopped down on the bench across from her.

  Her eyes wide, Sara said, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What happened?”

  Rebecca gave her assistant an abbreviated version of what had transpired with Jon’s father.

  “Jon’s engaged? No way, Bec, no way. Do you think he’s been putting on an act this whole time? So you’d sell him the park?”

  Rebecca let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I feel awful. Not just about Jon. I don’t see how we’ll be able to save the park. Jon’s father is pretty formidable. He could destroy us if he wanted to.”

  “But how? Our attendance has been so good lately. And if we sell out the ball….”

  “I guess. But we’ve got to show a clear profit this entire vacation and keep it up for the rest of the winter. And we’d better sell a lot more tickets for the ball.”

  * * * *

  As she drove home, Rebecca mulled over the conversation with Jon’s father. How could Jon be engaged? He’d never said a word. They hadn’t talked about prior relationships—or in Jon’s case, concurrent ones. He certainly had acted single. She remembered his deep kisses. Had he done it all on purpose to get Storytown? Had he thought that getting her to fall for him would make her give it up? Or had he just been trying to seduce her—a Mark-like maneuver if there ever was one? It didn’t really matter. Whatever the circumstances, he had deceived her. He’d shown time and time again that he could not be trusted. A tear hit her cheek, and she reached into her purse for a tissue.

  * * * *

  Rebecca didn’t like celebrating her birthday, which fell inconveniently between Christmas and New Year’s. But when her sister learned she didn’t have any plans for her thirtieth, Leslie insisted she come over for a quiet dinner.

  Rebecca stepped from the car and smiled at the handmade “Happy Birthday!” sign in the window. An alien’s face stood in for the dot in the “i,” and a spaceship punctuated the exclamation point. Milton was such a sweet kid.

  Inside, Leslie and Milton ambushed her. Milton slapped a party hat onto her head, and Leslie steered her into the dining room for presents. Milton was so eager for her to open her gifts that he helped—something he hadn’t done since he was much younger. Rebecca remembered him wanting to watch Rudolph at Christmas, which he’d sworn he was too old for last year. Was her nephew regressing as a way of coping with his parents’ separation? She made a mental note to talk to Leslie about it the next time they were alone.

  Later, her sister and nephew sang “Happy Birthday” to her. Rebecca looked down at the chocolate cake Leslie had baked and eyed the thirty candles. Thirty! She’d always believed she’d be married by now, maybe caring for a baby or two. She’d lost so much time being with Mark, who had never wanted to marry her and who ended up not being the right man for her anyway. And Jonathan Eastman? Obviously, he wasn’t Mr. Right, either. He was engaged to someone else. Suddenly, she didn’t have an appetite anymore, even for chocolate.

  * * * *

  New Year’s Eve loomed on the horizon. Rebecca usually hunkered down with a bunch of movies to ring in the new year, but she wasn’t sure if she would be satisfied with a quiet evening in this time. If only it had worked out with Jon. It would have been nice to have a date and to share a kiss at midnight. Would he be with his fiancée, she receiving the kiss that could have been Rebecca’s?

  As she and Sara took down the trimmings from the pine tree, Rebecca asked her assistant about her plans for New Year’s.

  “Joey and I are checking out the Black and White Ball. Hey, do you want to come with?”

  Rebecca shook her head. Tagging along as a third wheel was even worse than being alone. “Nah, I’ll probably just stay in and watch a bunch of movies.”

  “Or you could come out with me,” a voice said behind her, and she turned around to face Jon.

  “I’d better get started on the payroll,” Sara said, and she left with a box of decorations.

  “Hello,” Jon said, unbuttoning his thick coat. “You Californians. The end of December and you don’t even need a coat. You realize, don’t you, that in much of the country it’s actually snowing?”

  “They’re predicting rain,” Rebecca replied. Was this what they’d come to—talking about the weather? Underneath his coat, Jon wore the same suit he’d had on when they first met. He was so attractive she forgot her reason for being mad at him. Right…he was engaged, and he’d never told her.

  She raised her eyebrows at him, hoping to convey an air of haughtiness. “What can I do
for you?”

  “We have to talk. Will you meet me at the diner later?”

  “Okay,” she said without missing a beat. “Six thirty?” So much for the haughtiness.

  “See you there.” He grinned. “I’d have no objection to your wearing that black dress again.”

  She frowned. What was he doing, flirting with her? It was inappropriate at best.

  He seemed to notice her displeasure and grew serious. “I have some confessions to make. Thank you for agreeing to meet me. See you later.”

  She nodded and watched him turn for the exit. Her heart fluttered. What in the world would he say to her at dinner? If nothing else, it was sure to be an eventful evening.

  * * * *

  Rebecca arrived at the diner first and slid into the same booth they’d shared on their first date. She wasn’t sure if its availability was a good or bad sign. The clock on the wall read five minutes before six thirty. She was starving, and it surprised her. She would have thought this meeting would have erased her appetite completely.

  Jon walked in the door, and she inhaled sharply. In a deep red sweater and jeans with a hole in each knee, he looked both sweet and movie-star handsome. He smiled and showed his dimples. Forgetting her anger again, she smiled back.

  “You look very pretty,” he said once he’d reached the table and sat down.

  “I didn’t go home. I look the same as I did earlier.”

  “You looked pretty then too.”

  She couldn’t help it—she grinned at him.

  He handed her one of the record-shaped menus. Her stomach growled loudly in response. “Sounds like we’d better hurry,” he commented.

  She flushed. “I think I’ll have a burger and fries.” She hesitated. “And a chocolate shake.”

  “It’s a plan. I’ll have the same.” He motioned to the waitress.

  Once they’d ordered, Jon said, “Do you want to talk now or during dinner?”

  “Now is good.” Rebecca sensed his uncertainty, and the thought warmed her. Maybe he did care.

  Jon blew out a long breath. “Where should I begin? My father told me he kindly alerted you to the existence of my fiancée.”

  She nodded, her stomach tightening.

  “First of all, she was not my fiancée. I never proposed. I was dating Cecille exclusively, but I broke up with her a while ago. She and my parents seem to think I’ll be making up with her, and a wedding will soon follow.”

  Relief flooded through her. He wasn’t engaged! “Why did you break up?”

  “A better question is why we were together in the first place. The entire thing was engineered by my father. Cecille’s family owns the FunParks conglomerate, and Dad wanted to parlay our personal relationship into a business relationship for himself.”

  Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. Did people actually behave this way?

  “I got together with Cecille to please him. And she is beautiful, no doubt about it. But the problem is I find her excruciatingly dull. I saw my whole life spread out in front of me; working at ThemeWorld, coming home to her concerns about the color of the drapes and what Missy What’s-Her-Name had said at lunch….”

  Rebecca stifled a laugh. “It was that bad? She doesn’t have a job?”

  “She works for FunParks but plans to quit when she marries. She has no ambition other than to be a wife. That’s fine for some men, but I like a woman who has her own interests.” He gave her a pointed look.

  “So, you don’t…love her?”

  He shook his head with exaggerated vehemence, and she giggled.

  “Are you still upset with me?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “Honestly? A little. But I understand how things must be since your sister died.”

  “I meant what I promised. I wanted to help you. But it was a promise I should have known I might not be able to keep. My father is an intimidating man—perhaps you noticed?”

  Rebecca nodded. “He basically threatened me on Sunday. He wants Storytown, and he’s not going to stop trying until he gets it.”

  “That’s up to you, remember. He can’t take it away from you unless you let him. How are things going along those lines, anyway?”

  “Attendance has been way up over the holidays, but now it’s supposed to rain. I don’t know if I can pull it off, Jon, even with the extra income from the holidays and if we sell out our fundraiser on January ninth. Even if I get help from the community. Maybe you were right—Storytown’s time has come and gone.”

  Jon sighed. “I know I said that, but I don’t believe it anymore. Storytown is great. I don’t want to see it go any more than you do. Truly.”

  “I don’t know what we can do about it at this point.”

  “I won’t be able to help you as I’d wanted to. My father’s furious with me for lying to him. He has me trapped at headquarters doing paperwork. I’ve really disappointed him.”

  Jon’s features hardened into a grimace, and Rebecca felt a pang in her chest.

  “I’m sorry.” She paused. “I guess I’m not helping matters much by not being his idea of the right woman for you.” She twisted her napkin until it was nearly in shreds. She made herself drop it next to her plate.

  Jon smiled at her sympathetically. “No, I don’t suppose you are my father’s idea of the best woman for me. That would have been Cecille, with the added allure of the country’s most successful theme parks behind her. She may be as beautiful as you are, but you’re infinitely more interesting and charming. But, anyway, I’m beginning to not care what my father thinks.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. But enough about him. Let’s talk about something more pleasant. I’d like to take you out tomorrow night for New Year’s. The Fullerton Hotel is offering a special dinner and dancing. Say you’ll come.”

  Rebecca had no choice. She was right back where she’d been a few weeks ago—head over heels for him. She gave him the only possible answer.

  Chapter 11

  Rebecca woke to the sounds of rain on the roof. For once, she was glad they wouldn’t be able to open Storytown. Her emotions kept shifting from excitement to nervousness back to excitement again. What she could really use was a quiet day in the office. She called Sara and told her it was okay not to come in. Her assistant was only too pleased to go back to bed until it was time to get ready for the Black and White Ball.

  “Have a great time, Bec,” Sara said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She giggled.

  Rebecca ignored the comment. “You have a good time, too. Happy New Year.”

  The two hung up, and Rebecca returned to the problem she’d been working on since she’d accepted Jon’s invitation. Although they would be dining at the Fullerton Hotel and attending the dance afterwards, he hadn’t said anything about spending the night. She was open to the possibility, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. At last, deciding to be safe rather than sorry, she packed a small bag with her toiletries and a change of underwear and socks. She would be wearing her black dress for dinner and dancing—she didn’t have anything else. At the last moment, she packed the teddy Sara had given her for Christmas. Would she have the guts to wear it if she found herself sharing a hotel room with Jon? Her stomach roiled with nervous anticipation.

  * * * *

  Once at Storytown, Rebecca did her best to concentrate on her paperwork for the fundraiser, but most of the time, she stared out the window at the rain, daydreaming about Jon and the coming evening. She hadn’t had a New Year’s Eve date since she’d been with Mark, and she was looking forward to it. What if she did find herself spending the night with Jon? She flashed on an image of the two of them in bed, sheets tangled and every part of their bodies touching. Goosebumps chased across her skin at the thought of Jon holding himself over her. Seating arrangements and timetables couldn’t compete with her fantasies.

  Midway through the day, Jon called to check in on her.

  “Hi, honey. I’m really looking forward to tonight.” She’d never ca
lled him by an affectionate nickname, but it rolled easily off her tongue.

  “I’m looking forward to it, too, beautiful.”

  He sounded just as excited as she was. He reminded her to be out front at five to be picked up, and after a few sweet nothings, they hung up.

  At four-thirty, Rebecca donned the black dress and her high-heeled pumps and made up her face. She’d never really mastered the art of makeup, but she admired her work anyway. She tamed her unruly curls into a bun, leaving a couple of tendrils to hang loose over her shoulders.

  The weather had cleared, so she didn’t need her umbrella. Once she’d locked the side gate, she turned to see a black limousine pull up. One of the darkened back windows rolled down, and Jon leaned out. He wolf-whistled at her, and she giggled.

  The driver stepped out and opened a back door for her. Rebecca scooted in beside Jon, who promptly took her face in his hands and kissed her.

  “I didn’t know we were going in such style,” Rebecca commented once she’d exited from the kiss. Her heart thumped.

  “You deserve it,” Jon said and squeezed her hand.

  They cuddled and kissed the entire ride, not talking much. The limousine drew up to the front doors of the Fullerton Hotel twenty minutes later. Rebecca rolled down her window and glanced out. The stately hotel had been around for as long as she could remember. She had been there a few times with Gran and Leslie for brunch, but she’d never stayed there.

  Before they exited the limo, Jon placed his hand on Rebecca’s arm and whispered, “I hope you don’t think I’m taking anything for granted, but I booked a room for the night. I hope you’ll join me.”

  “It’s okay by me,” she breathed back, her stomach flip-flopping.