Cinderella on His Doorstep / Accidentally Expecting!: Cinderella on His Doorstep

The signs of age and neglect showed up in full force. There were boards covering the grouped stacks of broken windows. Several steps leading to the elegant entry were chipped or cracked. Repairs needed to be done to the high-sloped slate roof. It was difficult to tell where the weed-filled gardens filled with tiny yellow lilies ended and the woods encroached.

Dana took it all in, seeing it through her father’s eyes. She knew what the original script called for. This was so perfect she thought she must be dreaming.

“It’s like seeing a woman of the night on the following morning when her charms are no longer in evidence,” came his grating voice. Trust a man to come up with that analogy. “Not what you had in mind after all?”

Schooling herself not to react to his cynicism, she turned to her host, having sensed a certain tension emanating from him. “On the contrary. It will do better than you can imagine. Knowing how my father works, he’ll need three weeks here. How soon can you give the studio that much time?”

Chapter Two

FEW things had surprised Alex in life, but twice in the last eighteen hours Dana Lofgren had taken him unawares.

“I have nothing signed and sealed yet. Is the season of vital importance?”

Her nod caused her hair to gleam in the sun like fine gold mesh. “It has to be late summer. Right now if possible,” she said, looking all around, “but maybe that’s asking too much.”

“Don’t worry. It’s available. My next tentative booking so far is with a Paris studio that won’t be needing it until mid-September.”

“Good,” she murmured, almost as if she’d forgotten he was there.

“Are you ready to see the interior?”

“No.” She sounded far away. “I’ll leave that to my father. I’ve seen what’s important to him. The estate possesses that intangible atmosphere he’s striving for. I knew it as I drove in last night.

“Over the years of watching him work I’ve learned he doesn’t like too much information. If I were to paint pictures, he’d see them in his mind. They would interfere with his own creative process.” She suddenly turned and flashed him a quick smile. “His words, not mine.”

Alex couldn’t help smiling back. She had to be made of strong stuff to handle her father whose ego was probably bigger than his reputation. “Such trust in you implies a spiritual connection I think.”

“I would say it has more to do with our mutual love of history. When I leave, I’ll phone him and let him know what I’ve found. Before the day is out you’ll hear from two people.”

This fast she’d made her decision? Alex couldn’t remember meeting anyone like her before. Did she always function on impulse, or just where her father was concerned? “I’ll be waiting.”

“Sol Arnevitz handles the financial arrangements. Paul Soleri is in charge of everything and everyone else when we’re on location. Paul will go over the logistics and has the ability to smooth out any problem. You’ll like him.”

“As opposed to…”

She made a face. “Who else?”

Meaning her father of course. Dana Lofgren was a woman who didn’t take herself too seriously. Despite what he assumed was a ten-year age difference between them, he feared she was growing on him at a time when he couldn’t afford distractions.

“What more can I do for you this morning?”

“Not another thing.” But her blue eyes burned with questions she didn’t articulate, piquing his interest. “Thank you for dinner last night and your time this morning. It’s been a real pleasure, Alex. Expect to hear from Sol right away. Here’s his business card.” She handed it to him. “He’ll work out all the details with you.”

To his shock she got in her car before he could help her.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” He wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

“A daughter’s work is never done. I have to be in Paris this afternoon, then I’ll fly back to L.A. Enjoy your solitude before everyone descends on you.”

The next thing he knew she’d turned around and had driven off, leaving him strangely bereft and more curious than ever about her association with a father who was bigger than life in her eyes. Alex saw the signs. Ten, twenty, even thirty years from now he had a hunch Jan Lofgren’s hold on her would still be powerful.

He stared blindly into space. Whether strongly present in Dana’s life, or deliberately absent as Gaston Fluery had been in his daughter’s life, both fathers wielded an enormous impact. The thought disturbed Alex in ways he’d rather not examine.

An hour later, after he’d changed clothes and had begun cutting down more overgrowth, his cell phone rang. It could be anyone, but in case it was Dana, he pulled it out of his pants pocket. The ID indicated a call from the States. He clicked on. “Alex Martin speaking.”

“Mr. Martin? This is Pyramid Pictures Film Studio calling from Hollywood, California. If it’s convenient Mr. Sol Arnevitz would like to set up a conference call with you and Mr. Paul Soleri before he goes to bed at eleven this evening. It’s 7:00 p.m. now. Mr. Lofgren heard from his daughter and is anxious to move on this.”

Alex was anxious, too, for several reasons. “Eight o’clock your time would work for me.”

“Very good. Expect their call then.”

After twenty more minutes loading the truck, Alex went back to the château and entered through a side door leading into the kitchen. He washed his hands, then poured himself a cup of coffee before carrying it to the ornate salon off the foyer, which he’d turned into a temporary bedroom-cum-office. He liked living with the few furnishings of his parents he’d had shipped.

The salon’s original furniture was still stored on the top floor. Once he’d made inroads on the outside of the château, he would concentrate on the house itself, that is if he made enough money in time. For now he’d supplied himself with the necessities for living here: electricity, cable and Internet, running water hot and cold, a new water heater, a stove, a fridge, washer and dryer and a new bed with a king-size mattress and box springs.

He snagged the swivel chair with his foot and sat down at his desk. No sooner had he booted up his computer than his call came through. Once the other two men introduced themselves, they made short work of the negotiations. The company would be on location from August 8 through 31. Sol quoted a ballpark figure, but left it open because other expenses always accrued.

Alex didn’t know if Dana had anything to do with the actual amount, but it was a far greater sum than he’d hoped for. Sol sent him a fax, making the contract official before he rang off.

Paul stayed on the line with him for another twenty minutes. They discussed logistics for the cameramen and staff. Alex e-mailed him a list of hotels, car rental agencies and other businesses in and around Angers such as Chanzeaux.

“Chanzeaux?” the other man said. “Dana mentioned she stayed at a hotel there last night. I believe it was the Hermitage. According to her it’s the perfect place for her father.”

It pleased Alex she’d given her seal of approval. “The food’s exceptionally good there. Mr. Lofgren should be very comfortable.”

“Since we’re behind schedule as it is, we all want that,” he admitted with a dry laugh that spoke volumes about Dana’s father. “The crew will arrive day after tomorrow. Everyone else the day after. I look forward to meeting you, Alex.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

After clicking off, he headed outside again. Dana would be back in a few days, this time with her father. Over the years Alex had been involved in various relationships with women, but he’d never found himself thinking ahead to the next meeting with this kind of anticipation. He had no answer as to why this phenomenon was suddenly happening now.

During the taxi ride to the house, Dana phoned Sol whose secretary told him the contract with Mr. Martin had been signed. Relieved on that score she called Paul, wanting to touch base with him before she saw her father.

“Hey, Dana—Are you back already?”

“Yes, but only long enough to pack before I leave again. Sol says everything’s ready to go.”

“That’s right. I’ve got us booked at three hotels fairly close together. Just so you know, the Hermitage didn’t have any vacancies, but with a little monetary incentive I managed to arrange adjoining rooms for you and your father for the month.”

She smiled. “You’re indispensable, Paul.”

“Tell your father that.”

“I don’t need to.” Except that nobody told Jan Lofgren anything. Little did Paul know that even though he’d arranged a hotel room somewhere else for Saskia, she’d probably end up staying with Dana’s father. “Listen, Paul—I’m almost at the house so I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

“Ciao, Dana.”

After she hung up, her mind focused on her own sleeping arrangements. Since the film studio had the run of the estate until the end of August, Dana decided she would stay in the deserted château away from everyone. When else in her life would she get a chance like this? She’d buy a sleeping bag. It would be a lark to camp out inside.