The Prince Charming Hoax Read Free Page A

with long legs and a body that could have easily graced the cover of a Sports Illustrated bathing suit issue.
    The problem was that there was no one around to see her look pretty.
    “ When all else fails, Mother, ” she said looking skyward, “ women today call AAA. ”
    Roxie tried to dial for assistance, but she couldn ’ t get any reception. “ Damn! This only happens when I have to be somewhere! ”
    As if on cue, a worker emerged from the house. She waved her arms to get his attention. As he headed down the long driveway, Roxie had time to size him up. About six feet tall, he had long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore tight jeans, a denim shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, and cowboy boots. Based on that quick observation, she plotted her damsel-in-distress routine.
    When he got close enough for her to establish eye contact, she flashed her sweetest smile. “ Can you help me? I must have run over a nail or something, and my tire ’ s flat. I tried to call Triple A but for some reason, I ’ m not getting any reception on my phone. I have an appointment in ten minutes, and I ’ m really in a rush. I was wondering if maybe you could help me and change my tire? ”
    She cocked her head to the side and gave him another sweet smile. She got a blank stare in response. Reassessing, she wondered if maybe he was one of the South American workers, although he certainly didn ’ t look Hispanic.
    “ Do you speak English? ”
    “ Yeah. ” He stood there expressionless, except for squinting in the sun.
    Roxie shifted gears. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her card. The sweet girl disappeared and the businesswoman emerged.
    “ I ’ m Roxanne Stein, Executive Consultant to the Rhinemans. My appointment is with people they referred to me, and…you do know who the Rhinemans are, don ’ t you? They are the owners… ” She could see this tactic wasn ’ t working either. He looked bored, not impressed.
    “ Listen, do you have a cell phone I could borrow to make a call? I really have to get out of here and… ” She stopped short as she watched him turn and walk away. She could not believe it. What a jerk! She shook her head. The look-pretty tactic was about as useful as the rest of the advice her mother had doled out over the years.
    She tried her cell again, but it was dead. She tossed the phone in the passenger seat. “ Useless pieces of crap, him and the phone. ” Roxie threw her keys on the ground in frustration.
    She brightened at the sound of a vehicle coming up the gravel road. Shielding her eyes from the sun ’ s glare, she could make out a big, black pickup approaching fast. The truck stopped short only inches from her, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel. Roxie caught a glimpse of the workman who had just left behind the wheel. As he got out of the cab, their eyes locked and her heart raced. As he came toward her, she had a momentary flash of him tossing her Boxster in the back of his truck, picking her up, throwing her in the cab, and driving off.
    But instead he scooped up her keys, which still lay at her feet, turned and grabbed a jack from the bed of his pickup, and retrieved her spare from her trunk. Without a word, he started to change her tire.
    Roxie watched him, not knowing what to think. It wasn ’ t often that a man surprised her. Most of them were as transparent as windows. “ Why didn ’ t you say anything? ”
    “ Ma ’ am? ”
    “ When you left, you might have told me you were coming back instead of letting me think you were taking off. ”
    “ You ’ re not the kind of woman a man tells anything. You ’ re the kind that has to be shown. ”
    Roxie wasn ’ t sure if his response was a compliment or an insult. She watched him almost effortlessly jack up the Porsche and remove the flat. She admired the way he worked, and she liked the way he looked.
    She usually didn ’ t care for long hair on men, but on him it was sexy, not feminine. He had a broad back and narrow