A Cinderella Christmas Carol by Tarr Hope

Author:Tarr, Hope [Tarr, Hope]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781622668182
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2012-11-28T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“Matt, come back! Matt!”

Screaming, Starr awoke. She was in her apartment on the sofa where she’d first fallen asleep. A lightening gray sky showed through her window. The shoebox was still beneath her coffee table, Molly Jane now wrapped around it. Everything looked the same. Everything was the same—everything except her. Now that she was calming, she realized that inside she felt enormously, wonderfully…different.

Giddy with a newfound feeling of freedom and tingling from head to toe with a previously unknown sense of joy, she reached for her cell phone lying on the coffee table. Though she’d forgotten to charge it, she still had one bar left. Opening her contacts list, she typed the first few letters of the name for which she searched—Macie. Drawing a deep breath, she hit send on the call. A groggy voice answered on the fourth ring.

“Macie, it’s me, Starr… Yeah I know it’s kind of early… Five o’clock in the morning? Seriously? Shit, sorry about that. Listen, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to say thanks for the shoes and for remembering my birthday and, well, I’m sorry I didn’t make the wedding, but I hope you’ll let me know when you’re in New York next, and bring the husband and the kid, too… Yes, really. I mean, why not? The more the merrier. Oh, and if you need or even just want me to write you a recommendation or whatever, you’ve got it… No, I’m not drunk. Well, I did have one beer last night but that was it. Okay, so I’ll let you get back to the whole newlywed first Christmas together thing, and we’ll catch up after the New Year. For now, Merry Christmas, Mace. Ciao.”

Ending the call, she scrolled through her saved e-mail messages, found the invitation to the Matzo Ball Pot Luck Supper to be held that night at her assistant editor Terri’s Brooklyn Heights apartment, and changed her RSVP from “no” to “yes.”

Bursting with energy, she leapt up, threw on her coat and boots, and dashed out to the nearest ATM. Crossing Union Square Park to the bank, her boot soles making music on the frozen ground, she smiled up at the lightening sky.

“Thank you, Powers That Be. Thank you, Spirit Matt. I won’t waste this chance or this Christmas—or any Christmas—ever again, I swear it!”

Back in her apartment, she spent the morning purging her closet and dresser of designer clothes and accessories and makeup samples. Bagging it all up, she showered and dressed, then headed to the homeless shelter in Astor Place.

She found Jimmie—AKA Santa Claus—ensconced in an improvised throne in the center’s event room. Balancing twin boys on either knee, his eyes popped when he saw her. She waited for him to finish taking the kids’ Christmas orders before approaching.

He leapt up from his seat. “Ms. S., you made it!”

“I almost didn’t,” she admitted.

He looked down at the shopping bags dangling from both her hands. “Wow, that’s a lot of stuff you’ve got. Looks like you’ll be giving me a run for my money as Santa.

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