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PRINCE NOT-SO-CHARMING
A TWISTED CINDERELLA RETELLING
KARA KELLEY
CHAPTER 1
Elle
“I don't get it, Blanca. I'm a catch.” Pausing to down the last of my margarita, I continue, “I mean, really. I'm the goddamn CEO of a very successful shoe brand, I outright own my penthouse, and I can cook.” I count out each on the fingers of my left hand.
Blanca, tipping her own glass back to drain it, makes an agreeing sound, before setting it on the table just a bit too hard.
“And that penthouse sparkles,” she adds, stabbing a finger in the air.
I huff a laugh because she’s just buzzed enough to be brutally honest and I love her to pieces.
“I’m adding that to my attributes,” I say, flipping another finger up with a very un-CEO-like giggle. “I take care of myself, I'm educated, and I'm fairly attractive. I may not be walking runways, but, I mean, I’m at least a six, right?”
Blanca snorts. “Girl, you’re a six on your worst day.” She eyes me, as if making a calculated decision. “You clean up nice. On date night, you're at least a solid seven-point-five, probably even an eight.” My best friend grins, leaning back in the booth, her brows wiggling up and down. “A nine if you wear that little blue dress.”
“Maybe I should have worn it last night.” I slump, setting my chin into my hand and relaxing my counting fingers to fiddle with the stem of my empty glass.
“I take it last night’s date didn’t go so well?” Blanca commiserates while flagging down the waitress. “Two margaritas aren’t going to do it tonight.”
Blanca’s the best. I don’t even ask her to order an emergency pitcher. She just does. If fairy godmothers were real, she’d be mine.
“It doesn’t help that my family, especially my dad, are all over me to settle down,” I say, as our waitress sashays over.
“Tonight’s going to be one of our epic bitch sessions, Ariella. We need the large pitcher.”
She’s our usual waitress so she gives us a knowing look. “Chin up, ladies. I promise someday your princes will come.”
“Says the girl recently engaged to a charming, tall, dark, and handsome man, who loves her exactly the way she is.”
Ariella blushes. “I am a lucky girl, aren’t I?”
“I bet on your first date he didn’t berate the restaurant waitstaff, complain about the food, and then name drop so they’d comp it. All while checking his stocks on his phone for the entire two hours.”
Ariella pulls a face. “Nope, because I wore a low cut t-shirt and the only time he took his eyes off me was when we were singing karaoke. It was the most fun I’ve ever had.”
I groan. “Fun and date are not synonymous in my vocabulary.”
“You better get that pitcher stat,” Blanca says, and Ariella rushes off. When she’s gone, Blanca grabs my arm.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead.” I nod. “I don’t even think he was actually checking his stocks, I think he was faking it.”
“Tell me everything.”
And I do, until the margaritas arrive.
Grabbing the pitcher, I fill my glass to the very tippy-top and take a sip without lifting it off the table. My eyes shoot to my phone buzzing, for the fourth time, on the table, but I don’t pick it up.
It’s been that kinda day.
“I swear, Blanc, one of these days, I’m just going to give up, move to a cottage in the woods, and make friends with the birds, squirrels, and chipmunks. Living out my days as an old spinster maid sounds mighty appealing right now.” I sigh. “Like, really… how many frogs do I have to kiss before I find my prince?”
