The Cinderella Project (A Comedy of Love, #1) Read Online Free

shoulders—that always seemed to calm her—and then quietly reminded her that the defense of my dissertation was scheduled for late that month.
    Ella suddenly looked as though she might start to cry. She composed herself quickly and then turned her gaze elsewhere. Softly she said, “So you’re not going to prove it, then, are you?”
    Okay, this was officially confusing. “I guess I must be tired, Els. I’m not putting two and two together on this one. You know I love you, no matter when we get married. If you don’t want a big wedding, I’m okay with that. But we chose December so that we could really have the time together without all the distractions of school. Help me see how I’m not proving my love by wanting to go with Plan A.”
    Her face closed and her voice grew soft. “If you really loved me, you’d love me more than school.”
    Whoa. Did she really believe I loved school more than I loved her? I struggled with the notion for a while, but when I didn’t answer immediately she began sniffling lightly and made to stand. I stood with her and pulled her to me.
    “Ella, I’m not sure what I’ve said or done to worry you about my commitment, but if this is really that important to you…,” though my gut told me I was making a mistake, I finished, “October should be real fun.”
    She smiled, kissed me warmly and then thanked me. The tear of joy on her face certainly looked real. The fireworks had ended, and people were busily gathering their belongings and making their way home. I glanced at my watch and sighed, knowing I’d be wasted in the morning after this late a night. Without another word, we walked back to her apartment. I could only hope my proof of love was enough for her.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    “Jim, what did you think, the first time you saw me? Like, really saw me?”
    “No way? Can you believe how much stuff is out there on these… social network things? For the love of Peter, it’s no wonder identity theft is everywhere. Jeez, you can even find out what kind of underwear someone’s wearing right now.”
    “Jim, did you just hear a word I said?”
    “What? Oh, um… no. Just Facebook me.”
     
    Moiré showed up right on time the following Wednesday, turning heads as she walked in the door. So what if she was a little pretty? So what if her perfume made me want to hover over her? Physical beauty was only skin deep. It was nothing more than the product of a properly shaped skeleton overlain by just the right proportioning of muscles. Her slightly-lidded eyes needn’t be mysterious if one just understood that she was merely relaxing her orbicularis oculi. Her lips might look pleasant as she smiled, but that only meant that her incisivi labii were shaped in a balanced, symmetrical way that indicated good overall health and muscular development. She was a healthy specimen, sure. That meant she probably had lower health insurance premiums. Right. Nothing more than show. Nothing.
    “Moiré De Lanthe reporting as ordered,” she said with a small grin and a mock salute. My heart stopped at the sound of her voice.
    Get a grip , I told myself. That’s just air moving through a properly shaped larynx in a non-dissonant manner.
    “Miss De Lanthe,” I sighed. “Look, about the other night—” I stopped as I noticed curious eyes turn my way. Everyone knew I was usually the last person out of the lab. Neither was my engagement a secret, even though it was never discussed.
    “Actually, why don’t we discuss this outside,” I said quietly, gesturing at the door.
    “Sure,” she said and we walked out into the hall.
    “As I was saying,” I continued in muted tones, “I was really tired and my mind really was not thinking properly. I’m sure you’re a very talented individual and I’m sure you probably have a lot to contribute to the Department. I don’t think it’s fair that you should have to go completely unpaid for that work and that’s essentially the situation you’re