Finding Cinderella Maybe Someday

TATE
orbin: Want to grab dinner? What time do you get off work?
Me: Ten minutes. Where at?
orbin: We’re nearby. We’ll just meet you out front.
We?
I can’t ignore the excitement that just flooded me with
that text. Surely the 
we
means him and Miles. I can’t think
of anyone else who would be coming with him, and I know
Miles came home last night.
I finish up the last of my paperwork, then make a stop in
the restroom to check my hair (I hate that I care) before
heading outside to meet them.
The three of them are standing near the entrance when I
walk outside. Ian and Miles are both with Corbin. Ian smiles
when he sees me, since he’s the only one facing me. Corbin
spins around when I reach them.
“Ready? We’re going to Jack’s.”
They’re quite the team. All good-looking in their own ways
but even more so when they’re sporting their pilot jackets
and walking in a group like this. I can’t deny I feel somewhat

---

underdressed, walking next to them in my scrubs. “Let’s do
it,” I say. “I’m starving.”
I glance at Miles, and he gives me the slightest nod but no
smile. His hands are planted firmly in the pockets of his
jacket, and he looks away as we all begin walking. He stays
a step ahead of me the entire time, so I walk next to Corbin.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask as we head toward the
restaurant. “Are we celebrating the fact that all three of you
are off on the same night?”
A silent conversation passes around me. Ian looks at
Miles. Corbin looks at Ian. Miles looks at no one. He keeps
his eyes forward, focused on the sidewalk ahead of us.
“Remember when we were kids and Mom and Dad took us
to La Caprese?” Corbin asks.
I remember that night. I’ve never seen my parents
happier. I couldn’t have been older than five or six, but it’s
one of the few memories I have from that young an age. It
was the day my father made captain with his airline.
I stop in my tracks and immediately look at Corbin. “You
made captain? You can’t get captain. You’re too young.” I
know for a fact how hard it is to make captain and how
many hours a pilot has to put in to be considered. Most
pilots in their twenties are copilots.
Corbin shakes his head. “I didn’t get captain. I’ve changed
airlines too much.” He cuts his eyes to Miles. “But Mr. Sign
Me Up for More Hours over here got a nice little promotion
today. Broke the company record.”
I look at Miles, and he’s shaking his head at Corbin. I can
tell he’s embarrassed that Corbin just called him out, but his
modesty is just one more thing I find appealing about him. I
have a feeling that if their friend Dillon were ever to make
captain, he’d be on top of a bar somewhere, announcing it
to the entire world with a megaphone.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Miles says. “It’s a regional
airline. Not many people to promote.”

---

Ian shakes his head. “
I
didn’t get promoted. 
Corbin
didn’t
get promoted. 
Dillon
didn’t get promoted. You’ve been at
this a year less than any of us, not to mention the fact that
you’re only twenty-four.” He spins around and walks
backward, facing all three of us. “Abandon the modesty for
once, man. Rub it in our faces a little. We’d do it to you if the
roles were reversed.”
I don’t know how long they’ve been friends, but I like Ian. I
can tell he and Miles are close, because Ian is genuinely
proud of him and not at all jealous. I like that these are
Corbin’s friends. It makes me happy for Corbin that he has
this support. I’ve always pictured him living here, working
too much, spending all his time alone and away from home.
I don’t know why, though. Our father was a pilot, and he
was home a fair amount of time, so I shouldn’t have
misconceptions when it comes to Corbin’s life as a pilot.
I guess Corbin isn’t the only one to worry unnecessarily
about his sibling.
We reach the restaurant, and Corbin holds the door open
for us. Ian walks in first, and Miles steps back, allowing me
to walk in ahead of him.
“I’m going to the restroom,” Ian says. “I’ll find you guys.”
Corbin walks to the hostess stand, and Miles and I are
both behind him. I steal a glance in Miles’s direction.
“Congratulations, Captain.”
I say it under my breath, but I don’t know why. It’s not as
if Corbin would become suspicious if he heard me
congratulating Miles. I guess I feel if I say it in a tone only
Miles can hear, there’s more meaning behind it.
Miles cuts his eyes to mine and smiles, then glances at
Corbin. When he sees Corbin’s back is still to us, he leans
over and plants a quick kiss on the side of my head.
I should be ashamed of my weakness. A man should not
be allowed to make me feel the way that stolen kiss just
made me feel. It’s as if I’m suddenly floating or sinking or

---

flying. Anything that doesn’t require support from my legs,
because they’ve just become useless to me.
“Thank you,” he whispers, still sporting that gorgeous yet
somehow modest grin. He nudges my shoulder with his and
looks down at his feet. “You look pretty, Tate.”
I want to plaster those four words on a billboard and
require myself to pass it on my drive to work every day. I
would never take another day off work again.
As much as I want to believe he’s being sincere with his
compliment, I frown down at the scrubs I’ve been wearing
for twelve hours straight. “I’m wearing Minnie Mouse
scrubs.”
He leans into me again until our shoulders are touching.
“I’ve kind of always had a thing for Minnie Mouse,” he says
quietly.
Corbin turns around, so I immediately wipe the grin off my
face. “Booth or table?”
Miles and I both shrug. “Either,” he says to Corbin.
Ian returns from the restroom just as the hostess begins to
lead us to our seats. Corbin and Ian lead the way, and Miles
follows close behind me. 
Really
close. His hand grips my
waist as he leans forward toward my ear from behind me.
“Kind of have a thing for nurses, too,” he whispers.
I raise my shoulder to rub the ear he just whispered his
admission into, because my entire neck is now covered in
chills. He releases my waist and puts distance between us
when we reach the booth. Corbin and Ian scoot into each
side of the booth. Miles sits next to Ian, so I sit next to
Corbin, directly across from Miles.
Miles and I both order sodas, compared with Ian and
Corbin’s beer. His drink choice is just one more thing to mull
over. Several weeks ago, he admitted he doesn’t usually
drink, but considering he was beyond wasted the first night I
met him, I figured he would at least have one drink tonight.
He certainly has reason to celebrate. When the drinks are

---

brought to the table, Ian raises his glass. “To showing us
up,” he says.
“Again,” Corbin adds.
“To working twice as many hours as either of you,” Miles
says in mock defensiveness.
“Corbin and I actually have sex lives that interfere with
working overtime,” Ian retorts.
Corbin shakes his head. “No discussing my sex life in front
of my sister.”
“Why not?” I pipe up. “It’s not like I don’t notice all the
random nights you spend away from the apartment when
you aren’t working.”
Corbin groans. “I’m serious. Change of subject.”
I grant him his request gladly. “How long have the three of
you known each other?” I ask the question to no one in