The Lone Star Cinderella. Maureen Child

Alex Santiago’s housekeeper, she’d had access to the household account at the bank. But she’d been using that money to pay utility bills and the hundreds of other things that had come up since Alex had disappeared. She hadn’t had any extra to waste on trivial things like her salary or food. So she’d made do with the staples that had been in the pantry and freezer. But the cupboards were practically bare now and only ice cubes were left in the freezer. And it wasn’t as if she had money coming in. Even her intern position at Royal Junior High was ending soon. She couldn’t go out and get a job, either. What if Alex called the house while she was gone?

      “Of course,” she reassured herself aloud, “the upside is you’ve lost five pounds in the past couple of weeks. Downside? I’m ready to chew on a table leg.”

      Her voice echoed in the cavernous kitchen. The room was spotless, but that was due more to the fact that it hadn’t seen much action in the past few months than to Mia’s cleaning abilities. Though she took her duties as housekeeper seriously and kept the palatial mansion sparkling throughout. Still, since Alex went missing a few months ago, there hadn’t been much for Mia to do in the big house.

      The water came to a boil and she stirred in the dried noodles and flavor packet before putting the lid on the pan again then moving it off the heat to steep. While she waited for her lunch, she wandered to the wide windows overlooking the stone patio and the backyard beyond.

      From this vantage point, she could also see the rooflines of Alex’s neighbors, though the homes in the luxurious subdivision known as Pine Valley weren’t crowded together. Each home was different, custom designed and built by the owners, and each sat on a wide, wooded lot so there was plenty of privacy.

      Right now though, Mia had too much privacy. She’d been alone in the house since Alex’s disappearance. Alone with a phone that hadn’t stopped ringing in weeks. Reporters hounded her anytime she left the house, so she rarely left anymore. Since Pine Valley was a gated community, only a few reporters had managed to sneak past the gate guard to annoy her. But she knew that wouldn’t last. The longer Alex was gone, the more brazen reporters would become.

      A wealthy man going missing was big news. Especially in a town the size of Royal.

      She tapped her short, neat fingernails against the cold, smooth, black granite countertop. Mia’s stomach did a slow turn and she swallowed hard. Alex had been good to her. He’d given her a job when she’d most needed one. He’d allowed her the space to continue her education and because of that, she was close to getting her counseling degree.

      Not only did Mia really owe Alex, she liked him, too. He’d become a good friend as well as her employer, and Mia didn’t have many friends. She stared blankly out the window and absently noted the treetops whipping in the cold October wind. She shivered involuntarily and turned her back on the view. She didn’t want to think about winter coming and Alex still being gone. She hated not knowing if her friend was safe. Or hurt. But she had to keep positive and believe that Alex would come home.

      She also couldn’t help worrying about what she was going to do next. The bills had been paid, true. But her tuition was due soon and if Alex wasn’t there to pay her...

      When the phone rang, she jumped and instinctively reached for it before stopping herself and letting it go to the answering machine. Weeks ago, she’d decided to let the machine pick up so she could screen her calls, in an attempt to avoid reporters and the unceasing questions she couldn’t answer.

      Still, she was always hoping that somehow the caller might be Alex, telling her he was fine, and sorry he’d worried her and oh, that he was wiring more money into the household accounts. Not very realistic, but Mia’s innate optimism was hard to discourage.

      The machine kicked on and after the beep, a female voice asked, “Mia? You there? If you’re listening, pick up.”

      Smiling, she snatched up the receiver. “Sophie, hi.”

      “Still dodging reporters?”

      “Every day,” she said and leaned back against the counter. Her gaze slid to the backyard again and the trees waving and dancing in the wind. “They don’t give up.”

      “At least they can’t get past the gate guard there to bother you in person.”

      “A few of them have managed, but one call to security and that’s taken care of.” Though she hated feeling as though she was living through a medieval siege. And she had to admit that living alone in this big house made her a little nervous at night. Yes, Royal was a safe place, and a gated community should have made her feel even more secure. But with Alex gone and the world wondering why, Mia was always worried that someone might come sneaking around the house at night, looking for clues or a story. But Mia didn’t want her thoughts to go to the dark side. Alex was missing, yes. But she couldn’t allow herself to think he was gone forever.

      “My offer to come and stay with me for a while still holds, you know.”

      Sophie Beldon was a good friend. She was also Alex’s assistant, and since his disappearance, the two women had become even closer friends. Together, they’d done all they could to search for Alex, and still had come up empty. But they had another plan now. One that had Mia looking for more information on Dave Firestone, a business rival of Alex’s. Of course, she hadn’t actually started on that plan yet, since she had no idea how to go about it.

      “Really, thank you. It’s tempting, believe me,” Mia confessed. But she couldn’t very well move in with her friend and leave Alex’s house unguarded. Not to mention that Mia hated the idea of mooching meals from Sophie. She didn’t like asking people for anything. She was far too used to doing things herself and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon. “It’s really nice of you to offer, Sophie. But I really want to be here. In case Alex calls or comes back. Besides, I wouldn’t feel right leaving his house vacant.”

      “Okay. I can understand all of that,” Sophie said. “But if you change your mind, the offer stands. So how’s everything else going? Is there anything I can do?”

      “No, but thanks.” Mia cringed a little, hating that her friend knew just how bad off Mia was. The two of them had gone out to lunch just a couple weeks ago and when she’d tried to pay the bill, as a thank-you to Sophie for being so nice, Mia’s debit card had been denied. Her bank account hadn’t had enough in it to pay for a simple lunch. Mortified, Mia had been forced to let Sophie pay for their meals.

      She hated this. Hated worrying about money. Hated worrying about Alex. She just wanted her nice, safe, comfortable life back. Was that really so much to ask?

      “We’re friends, Mia.” Sophie’s voice was soft and low. “I know you need money. Why won’t you let me help you out temporarily? It would just be a loan. When Alex comes home, you can pay me back.”

      Again, so very tempting. But she didn’t know how or when she could pay her friend back, so she couldn’t accept the loan. Mia Hughes paid her own way. Always. Heck, she didn’t even have a credit card because she paid cash or she didn’t buy.

      “Sophie,” she said on a sigh, “I really appreciate the offer. But we’ve been looking for Alex for months and it’s like he vanished off the face of the earth. We don’t know when he’ll come back.” If ever, her mind added, but she didn’t say it aloud, not wanting to tempt whatever gods might be listening in on them. “I’m fine. Honest. The thing with my debit card was just a bank mistake.” Okay, a small lie, but one she would cling to. She didn’t want her friend worried about her and she simply could not accept a loan. Mia had been making her own way in the world since she was eighteen, and she wouldn’t start looking for handouts now. No matter how hungry she was.

      “You have the hardest head,” Sophie murmured.

      Mia smiled. “Thank you.”

      “Wasn’t a compliment,” her friend assured her on a laugh. “But okay. I’ll let it go. For now.”

      “I appreciate it.”

      “That’s not why I called, anyway,”