Accidental Cinderella. Nancy Robards Thompson
“So, a man who cooks. Why hasn’t some lucky lady snapped you up?”
“There’s been no one recently I’ve wanted to be involved with.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sort of.
A swarm of butterflies swooped in Lindsay’s stomach.
“I was a lonely kid,” he said. “The kind of lonely that can only be understood by someone who’s felt it, too. You know, not belonging. I can’t imagine that you were that kind of kid.”
“Ah, but I was,” she said. “Sometimes I still am.”
“I don’t believe it.” His voice was a sexy whisper.
Then he kissed her. His mouth was so inviting, and even though a voice of reason sounded in a distant fog in the back of her mind—she really shouldn’t be doing this—she had to have one more taste.
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Dear Reader,
I have a confession to make: even though I’m not a terrific cook, I eat up the Food Network and cooking shows on other channels, such as Top Chef. I can’t get enough of them. From BBQ to beautifully baked cakes (and everything in between), I devour these tasty shows.
On the upside, this indulgence has greatly improved my previously limited culinary repertoire. It also started the wheels turning for Accidental Cinderella. I’ve always wondered about the stories behind these shows; how did these Food Network stars make the leap from the kitchen to cable? That question inspired this book. In these pages I explore what happens when you take an unlikely cooking/travel show host and mix her up with a bad-boy chef in desperate need of redemption. The result is deliciously sweet and spicy.
I hope you’ll have as much fun reading Accidental Cinderella as I had writing it!
Bon appétit!
Nancy Robards Thompson
Accidental Cinderella
Nancy Robards Thompson
NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON
Award-winning author Nancy Robards Thompson is a sister, wife and mother who has lived the majority of her life south of the Mason-Dixon line. As the oldest sibling, she reveled in her ability to make her brother laugh at inappropriate moments and she soon learned she could get away with it by proclaiming, “What? I wasn’t doing anything.” It’s no wonder that upon graduating from college with a degree in journalism, she discovered that reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Since hanging up her press pass to write novels full-time, critics have deemed her books “funny, smart and observant.” She loves chocolate, champagne, cats and art (though not necessarily in that order). When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking and doing yoga.
For Michael, for all the wonderful meals over the years.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
“You almost make a girl believe in fairy tales.” In this rare intimate moment amidst the festive chaos, Lindsay Bingham reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair into her friend Sophie Baldwin’s bridal veil.
Sophie looked every bit the princess she was. Literally. A real princess.
The wedding was magical and the reception was the social ticket of the year, Lindsay marveled. It was still hard to believe that salt-of-the-earth Sophie Baldwin from Trevard, North Carolina, was full-fledged royalty.
Last year, she’d discovered her birthright—or maybe it was more apropos to say her birthright finally found her—and she’d been swept away to the island of St. Michel in imperial fashion. As if that weren’t enough good fortune, she’d just married her prince in a gorgeous December wedding.
Right on cue, tall, handsome Luc Lejardin whirled by on the dance floor with another woman in his arms. But as he caught and held his bride’s gaze, it was perfectly clear he only had eyes for one woman.
Lindsay sighed. She would’ve gladly relinquished rights to an entire kingdom to have a man look at her that way.
“If I keep humming, ‘Wish Upon A Star,’ will I get my turn as Cinderella?”
Sophie smiled. “Maybe, but since that song belongs to Pinocchio, you might end up with a fibbing bad boy rather than a handsome prince.”
Fibbing bad boys. The story of her life.
“That’s right,” she conceded. “Cinderella’s fight song was ‘A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes….’”
Sophie winked at her. “A little dream-wishing never hurt anyone.”
“Yeah, but for the foreseeable future, I’m going to do my best to do more than dream. I’m getting my life together. I’m calling it the ‘New Me’ plan.”
Yeah, rather than the old “Plan of Self-Destruction.” A strategy that involved seeing how many years she could accrue at her dead-end job as a receptionist at Trevard Social Services and how many Mr. Wrongs she could pack into one lifetime.
She sighed against the beat of protest that thrummed inside her. Frankly, her “New Me” plan was a lot easier in theory than in practice. Her receptionist job was comfortable. It was so simple she could do it on autopilot. Even though her boss was a colossal pain in the butt, it was definitely one of those devil-you-know situations. Or so she told herself.
But the job was getting her nowhere.
As were the men she sometimes dated.
From her perspective, the journey toward true love sometimes seemed akin to walking a tightrope strung across a dark, scary abyss. She’d walked that rope before, holding the hand of a man she loved and trusted, a man who, once upon a time, said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Ultimately, he’d not just let go of her hand;