Secret Cinderella

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Charlotte, move the boxes.” Her stepmother's announcement echoed overhead on the speaker. Thankfully there were no customers in the store yet while Charlotte choked down her morning oatmeal in the employee break room.

She hopped up fast, always ready to work. This superstore had once been her father’s pride and joy. Now it was her prison, but maybe one day she’d own it like he’d intended for her.

Tossing half of her breakfast in the trash, she nodded at her stepmother, Nancy, whose black eyes seemed like evil incarnate. Her black eyeliner and black outfit added to the effect. Nancy watched Charlotte grab the red pull cart that held the new deliveries with an expression of malicious joy.

One day, Charlotte hoped those witchy eyes would stop staring into her soul as she imagined Nancy always nearby, ready to pounce on any mistake. That would be great.

As she moved the first box in the stack to the aisle to restock the rice boxes, she shook her head. Her father in heaven wouldn’t want her to turn mean, not like her stepmother and stepsisters.

She wished that all three of them would marry rich men and leave her and this store alone.

Maybe then she’d add bigger windows. The cement-entombed store only let light in through the glass up front, a place she rarely saw.

They had to move on some day and then their mistreatment would just be a distant memory.

Dark haired and always sweet Jack, who’d grown so muscular that all the girls who'd ignored them in high school, and now only ignored her, joined her next to the boxes. “Charlotte, I saw the schedule in the break room when I clocked in. You haven’t had a day off in months.”

Her stepsisters, who worked in management, most often ‘supervised’ the cashiers…when they even showed up. She shrugged. “Linda needed to get her hair done.”

Jack scoffed, his blue eyes narrowed. “And the day before?”

The slightly nicer stepsister used her pretend management skills to party plan and thought her job was just to bring the birthday cake and balloons to work on special days. But at least Mickey had never pulled her hair or laughed when Charlotte had cried. “Mickey had a doctor’s appointment.”

Jack towered over her like he’d protect her from her family as his lips thinned. “Charlotte, you need to quit. It was one thing in high school to work here, but now it’s sixty hours or more a week and you’re not even getting paid overtime.”

Her best friend had gone from gangly to buff, and was smart too. She knew he was right. He’d stayed beside her even while he finished his college degree. “I’ll be fine.”

He motioned with his head toward her stepmother, who never laughed or smiled, at least toward her. When Nancy had first come home as her father’s new wife, she hadn’t been completely horrible. Charlotte was glad that Nancy hadn’t kicked her out after he’d died.

“No, you’re not her slave," Jack said dismissively. "You need to just walk out the door and toss your blue vest at her feet.”

The image of tossing the vest played in her mind, but what would happen out there? She’d end up in another store, working for someone else. At least here she had hope, a place to sleep, and one day soon… this would be her store. Nancy, Linda, and Mickey were not made for manual labor, something they said every night.

Charlotte continued to unpack a container of rice pilaf boxes.

Maybe it would be nice to start her own store, somewhere far away, possibly near a beach. But then she’d never see her father’s grave again. She turned toward Jack, who had already emptied one cardboard box of rice pilaf. “I can’t… my father built this place. One day they will all be gone and this store will be mine.”

He let out a small chuckle. “You’re dreaming.”

His comment made it seem like her plans were impossible when it was the opposite. One day this would be all hers again. She lifted her chin. “My father promised me.”

Jack slowly opened the next large box. “My father promised to pay for college but then he disappeared, never to be seen again, not that I ever saw him much before then. You can’t live based on promises from childhood that won’t happen.”

From what she'd inferred, his father had walked out on his mother and never called any of them again. She and Jack had different stories. “My father’s will was black and white. I will get this store.”

“The will hasn’t been found for you to trust that.”

“I have my memories,” she said. “I believe my father.”

“Fair enough.” He met her gaze and spoke like this was a conspiracy to escape class to go talk somewhere as he said, “If they leave… And they aren’t going anywhere.”

Mickey shuffled past the aisle with a cake and balloons in her hand, clearly heading to the break room to celebrate a part-timers birthday to make them feel special.

Linda’s laugh was in the background as Barbara, the full-time customer service agent, announced a sale on towels.

The click of heels sounded on the laminate floor behind her. She glanced around and met Nancy’s impossibly black eyes that never showed expression. “Charlotte, clean up on aisle nine.”

Nancy walked away.

Charlotte let out a sigh and wished she could have finished her breakfast as she said to Jack, “It’s not even seven in the morning. They normally don’t wake up till ten.”

He nodded, his scruffy jaw enhancing his strong frame, and shook a package of rice. “I’ll finish stocking these.”

"Thanks." Aisle nine was the cereal section. She grabbed a yellow hazard sign from the supply closet on her way. When she saw the aisle, her stomach churned.

The boxes had been torn, with cereal and throw-up from a child in the middle of the aisle.

She left the yellow sign, gathered the cleaning supplies, and returned to the scene of the crime.

Shoppers filed past her as she finished, sweat on her brow.

Sometimes Jack bought coffees for them from the café and she hoped that today might be one of those days. She put the cleaning cart back and the idea of a minute’s rest with coffee played like a dream. But the second she turned around, Nancy was staring at her again—her cold expression sent a shiver through her. “Charlotte, you’re going slow this morning.”

She tensed. “I’ll pick up the pace.”

Once Nancy passed the end of the aisle, Charlotte dropped her shoulders, thinking she was home free, but as she made the center aisle to go back, Nancy stood right in her way.

Why hadn’t she left? Goosebumps rose on Charlotte's arms. Her stepmother said, “I need you to sign off in the delivery area for the produce in the truck.”

Charlotte pointed toward the back. “On my way.”

This time Nancy’s heels clicked in the other direction of Charlotte’s tennis shoes--the hole in her sole meant she’d need a new pair soon. As she made it to the loading dock, she grabbed a work jacket to avoid the nip in the autumn air along with the order sheet and relaxed. Produce. Apples. Perfect. She smiled as she greeted the driver, Paul.

“Charlotte, you’re looking good. Are you ready to drive away with me yet?”

The trees around the store were full with leaves. Pittsburgh was rural enough to where deer, coyotes, or wild turkeys still roamed. Any day now the leaves would change color and fall. She zipped up her jacket. Paul was twice her age and missing his two front teeth, but kind. Charlotte retrieved the gift she’d wrapped for his daughter from the work desk. “And what would your wife and children do without you, Bob? Here...”

He refused to take the bag and said, “You don’t have to."

She'd bought the adorable outfit yesterday, and pressed the silver box tied with pink ribbon into his hands in exchange for the delivery sheet. “I do. A first birthday is special.”

Bob checked inside and said, “Thank you.” He set the box on the passenger seat of his truck to bring home.

Charlotte inspected the apples and signed off that the order matched.

Bob left and Charlotte filed the paperwork, motioning for the delivery to be added to blue carts so they could be brought into the store.

As she came inside to breathe warmer air, Nancy waited for her. She stopped at the water cooler to fill a paper cup and sipped. “Flirting with married men again, Charlotte?”

She lowered her head to avoid a confrontation. Arguing with Nancy never worked out in her favor. “It’s nothing.”

Nancy pointed to the departing truck. “That outfit comes out of your paycheck.”

Charlotte’s cheeks heated despite the cold air. “No need. I have the receipt. I paid Mickey cash yesterday.”

Nancy didn’t even blink as she stared at Charlotte. Her insides had little tremors until Nancy said, “Very well. Don’t you have boxes to unpack?”

Today Charlotte needed a clear reminder of her goals. She lifted her chin and asked, “Did you have any luck last night at the casino?”

Nancy had gone to the river casino to see if there was a man she wanted to gamble on herself, though she'd called it ‘slumming.’ A few years ago, Nancy wouldn’t have been caught dead in a place like that. “No, there were no men of quality… like your father.”

Charlotte smiled at that. Everyone, even Nancy, had the same memory of Rob Masters. Her smile fled. Nancy was no closer to leaving the store to her than yesterday. “I see. Well, I have to go.”

She turned so fast that her sneakers squeaked on the floor but Nancy’s voice cut right through the skin when she said, “Tonight’s dinner better be good.”

“I made stew in the slow cooker.”

“I have guests coming so I expect you to wear your… uniform.”

Finally. Guests. The maid uniform meant Nancy wanted to impress and the staff for the house was long gone, except the maid’s outfit fit her. Hopefully this was a romantic prospect that took her stepmother and her daughters out of Charlotte’s life forever. “I’m on it.”

She headed to the produce section and met Jack, who was unpacking the apples that had just arrived. She pitched in, opening a crate. He said, “You need serious help. None of this is okay.”

Her sister Linda giggled with her phone in her hand, clearly not working as she stood in the center of the store aisle. Charlotte stayed in the side aisle, dug into the box, and moved the apples faster while she said, “Jack, it’s not forever and I’ll beat her in the end.”

Jack tapped her arm, reminding her without words to slow down. “How?”

Mickey sashayed out of the break room and met Linda like they had no worries in the world, and they both laughed at whatever Linda pointed to on her phone. Charlotte stacked the apples. “Because she won’t make me abandon my inheritance.”

Jack stopped and glanced at the drafty back delivery door, where a shaft of light drifted into the dark shadows. “There is a world outside these walls. You can live your own dreams.”

She didn’t know about that, but her only hope was if she stayed and outlasted the others. Unlike her stepsisters, she didn’t bank on something artificial, like good looks. And in the end, she’d win. Charlotte held her head high. “Look, in high school the guidance counselor met with me weekly to talk me out of my plans. Ms. Pitts urged me to go to college.”

Jack elbowed her and said, “Ms. Pitts is why I enrolled to get a mechanical degree. In one year, I’m out of here.”

And probably leaving Pittsburgh and her too. If he found a job that is. Maybe if he gotten into the plumbing trade…that industry wasn’t going away and local so he’d be near her always. She needed to let that wish go fast as it wasn’t what he wanted. She forced her shoulders to relax. Charlotte wouldn’t have anyone to talk to during the day, but she’d survive. This past year he’d had a string of girlfriends, leaving her alone a few times anyhow. She’d learned a long time ago that she was the kind of girl who bounced back. “That’s the only thing I’m jealous about.”

His gaze narrowed as he asked, “What’s that?”

She continued moving the apples from the box. “I wish I had an end-date for when everyone finds love, marries, and gets out of the store. A deadline.”

Jack shook his head like he didn’t approve, but that didn’t matter. One day it would happen—she’d run this store and improve it. Jack would eventually fall for some girl so hard that he left too. She’d learned to ignore the pings of jealousy. When she had a minute for herself, she jotted down her ideas, they ran from simple to complex, in order to turn the store around.

They finished the apples and Jack carted the empty boxes away.

She intended to get a coffee with Jack and stare into his empathetic brown eyes for a while, but Nancy had her arms crossed and the bathroom cleaning schedule in her hand. “Charlotte, please clean up the toy aisle.”

At least she wasn’t on toilet duty today as someone else on staff had that fun assignment. She nodded fast. “Yes, ma’am.”

She started to leave but Nancy raised her eyebrow so Charlotte stayed put. “And Charlotte?”

Charlotte batted her eyes as adrenaline rushed through her. “Yes?”

Nancy held the schedule at her side and Charlotte glanced at it, hoping she wasn’t back on bathroom duty. “I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

Her heart raced fast. “Yes?”

Nancy folded the paper in her hand and Charlotte stilled. “I know I’m hard on you sometimes.”

Understatement of the year, but Charlotte simply said, “Yes.”

Nancy’s voice softened and she leaned in, almost like they were family as she said, “I know the store has suffered because I’d never managed a store before I married your father. Until he died, I never had to work on anything but supervising my hair stylist.”

Right. Charlotte knew that, and it was why she’d pitched in so much but she hadn’t expected her “help” to turn into forever work. She swallowed and said, “I understand.”

Nancy’s lips pressed together and she stared so hard at Charlotte that Charlotte’s face heated. “I don’t think you do,” her stepmother said. “I need to ensure my daughters enjoy the life I lost when I married into middle class.”

Charlotte had heard the stories Nancy had told her daughters about a life with mansions and servants, but that all seemed so… strange. Her hands had only ever known work, not expensive manicures. “And I wish you, Mickey, and Linda every success.”

Nancy tilted her head in shock. “Why?”

Seriously? Charlotte lifted her chin. “Because then I get the store and we’ll all be happy.”

Nancy snapped to end their tête-à-tête. “Well, get back to work in the toy section.”

Her stepmother strode off with that bathroom schedule in her hand. Maybe Jack was right that there was a world outside the store. Maybe life would be better if she just walked away, but she couldn’t let her father’s store turn into another failed shop. Charlotte would have nothing left. So, she’d win against her stepmother and her stepsisters. There was no other choice.