Page 23 of The Reverse Cinderella

“You’ll need to look over the forms, sign the waiver and return them to me,” Mrs. Brown added another file. “This is your training package and schedule. Once you’ve passed the training and Melanie is satisfied that you’re ready, we’ll start you with a half hour segment twice a week. Welcome to radio broadcasting, Piaget.”

Piaget shook her teacher’s hand and took the files. “I am so thankful for this opportunity, Mrs. Brown. I really appreciate it.”

“You earned it,” Mrs. Brown smiled. “I enjoyed reading your answer to the first question. I feel like you have a real passion for broadcasting.”

“I do,” Piaget smiled gratefully. “Thank you again.”

Piaget took her leave of Mrs. Brown. Right in the middle of the noisy hall, she grabbed her cellphone and called Max. She couldn’t wait to share the news with him.

It was three rings before he picked up. “Hey beautiful.”

Piaget smiled. “Hi.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Max asked.

Piaget could hear machinery running in the background. “I had good news. I got the spot!”

“The all important broadcast spot that you’ve been worrying over for the past two weeks?” Max whistled sharply at someone. “Shut it off! I’m talking to my girl.”

Talking to his girl, Piaget blushed. She liked the idea of being his girl. The machinery quieted down. “Yes, the very one.”

“Then we need to celebrate,” Max said. “I am so proud of you Piaget. You’re amazing.”

Piaget smiled. “I had a little help from you. Thank you, Max.”

“You wrote and aced the test. We are going to celebrate this. Are you working tonight?”

Piaget stifled some disappointment. “Yes.”

“That’s okay,” Max said easily. “If you’re not too tired afterward, I got an idea for an hour or so. Just bring your appetite.”

“Okay,” Piaget said happily.

His idea turned out to be a picnic event in Eden Park, a park about twenty minutes away by cab. The park was beautifully landscaped and impressively large. Old fashioned looking lamps lit the paths, lending it a peaceful atmosphere in the warm night. Max brought her to the fountain where a little bistro set was waiting with a checkered table cloth, a vase of flowers, two glasses of wine and a small plate of assorted appetizers waiting under a pan lid and towel to keep them warm. He removed the reserved sign and seated Piaget.

“How did you set this all up?” she wondered.

“I have good friends,” Max smiled in satisfaction. “This is just stop number one.”

“Really?” Piaget was amused. He really was such a romantic.

“We are celebrating,” Max responded as he took her hand. He proceeded to ask her all about her new position and what it entailed, what her schedule would be like. Soon enough, the appetizers were gone and Max offered her his arm so that they could move to the next spot.

Piaget leaned into him and enjoyed the walk along the paths in the summer night air. She couldn’t believe he had gone through this much trouble for her. He led her into a small garden maze, full of hedges that were hip height. A checker table cloth covered the bistro table that waited with their main course, a lit candle and two red wines. Piaget allowed him to seat her again and enjoyed unwrapping the foiled salmon, potatoes and mixed vegetables. She didn’t know who had cooked them and gotten the meals to the park, but their timing was perfect because the plate was still hot and the fish perfectly cooked.

Idly, Piaget wondered if Max was this romantic over a simple celebration dinner, what would he do when he proposed?

Piaget put the brakes on that thought and concentrated on the lovely meal with Max. She had no right thinking along those lines. They were barely dating.

Dessert was on the stage of the bandshell. It consisted of chocolate cheesecake, Piaget’s favorite. Coffee for Max, and tea for Piaget were waiting, hot and ready on a tiny bistro set. This time the table cloth was floral and a small speaker was playing music.

“I think you cheated,” Piaget closed her eyes as she took a small bite of the cheesecake on her fork. It tasted divine.

“How is that?” Max asked, sipping his black coffee. His eyes twinkled.

“I think Dix helped you with the menu choices.”

Max nodded. “She may have had a little input.”