Glass Ceilings: A Modern Steamy Cinderella Fairy Tale (Fairly Twisted Tales Book 1)

by Lux Miller

  I stare at him open-mouthed like a deer in headlights, because I’ve absolutely nothing to say to answer his question without sounding like a complete whore. I give a little heave of my shoulders, then gasp as I hear a familiar voice.

  “Now, now Rico. Give the girl a break. We were all young once. At least she had the forethought to use a condom. She’s doing better than half the young people in New York. Now, tell me, how’s my little princess doing?”

  I whirl around on the bar stool and squeal at the sight of my mother’s brother, “Uncle Gio! Thank God! Do you have a dress I can borrow? Mine had a little, um, accident…”

  My uncle chuckles heartily, his robust body jiggling with his enthusiasm. “Of course, my dear. You know I’ve all kinds of party wear. By all means, anything for my sister’s daughter. How’s your mom, by the way?”

  I shrug as Rico walks out of the room, presumably to find a dress in my size. My uncle keeps them on-hand so that I have plenty to choose from when my father inevitably decides to host last-minute events. “She’s alright. She added a horse barn to the upstate property, but I haven’t been up there to see her since the spring. You know… all the ‘important’ duties of being a spoiled rich kid in New York.”

  Giovanni nods, the laughter fading from his voice. “You’re nineteen, Ashley. You don’t have to play your father’s games anymore. Your mother never wanted you to play them in the first place, but you insisted. I may not be rich like your father, but I could support you, babygirl. Your momma could support you.”

  I sigh and nod. “I know, Uncle Gio… but see, if I don’t play the role of the black sheep of the family, then somebody else will. By me being the royal fuckup, I can get away with it. ‘Oh, she’s just young and pretty,’ they say. My brothers aren’t that fortunate. Father forgives me if I act a fool, because he has to - he’s already written Blake and Carter off as worthless to him and they’re happier for it. So why rock the boat?”

  Giovanni sighs and pats my cheek softly, “Sometimes you don’t know your own worth to the world, Ashley. You deserve your own happily ever after too…”

  TEN

  Eli

  It’s half past twelve by the time I stumble into the house and start stripping off anything that could possibly tie me to the Halloween ball. The last time I saw Trevor at the party, he looked to be in a pissy mood. Considering the guest of honor bailed halfway through, and before Trevor could sneak his girls into her social circle, my guess is he’s absolutely livid. He needs to think I came home when he told me to and spent the entire night here, pruning hedges or some other bullshit. Good thing I did extra work this morning to make my story credible.

  Kicking the door closed behind me, I whip the flowy, white shirt over my head and throw it into the fireplace. There can be absolutely no evidence to link me to the party, and I know that my costume made a splash. In a world where the rich elite spends thousands on cheaply-made costumes, I know that the one I wore was unique in that it was handmade. Despite it’s DIY feel, it was pretty cool. Which makes me a little sad that it has to go. But my life and surviving Trevor’s wrath are more important right now.

  I kick off the lone boot and jump around as I tug off the stupidly tight pants, throwing them on top of the stacked logs with the shirt. Bending down, I grab the boot, but stop short of throwing it into the fireplace with everything else. It’s a finely made boot and it’s not like I could ever afford to buy something this nice. Trevor barely gives me a food allowance as it is. It’s a shame I’ve only got one of them now. Despite the fact that I can’t exactly wear one boot, I can’t bring myself to get rid of it. I’ll just have to hide it well.

  Just thinking about Ashley and the incredible sex we had less than hour ago makes my dick twitch with anticipation. If he’d had his way, we’d have fucked all night. Once wasn’t nearly enough and I’d have gladly eaten her pussy for hours just to keep her naked with me. My only regret is that I wasn’t able to watch her face while I wrought multiple orgasms from her body. Her moans alone damn near made me come in pants while I ate her out the first time. Adding in the ability to see her sweet snatch would have no doubt made me unable to control myself.

  It’s like half a fantasy came true tonight, and while I’m slightly disappointed that I didn’t get the full experience, I had mind-blowing sex with Ashley freaking Rogers… and she liked it. I could probably just about die happy right now, but I don’t want to die. My life may suck balls at times, but I actually enjoy living. Working for Trevor is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a curse, because Trevor’s my freaking boss. It’s a blessing, because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than surrounded by the natural beauty of the gardens. There’s moments when I’m alone, tending to the plants, that I’m completely at peace with what life has thrown my way. If my only purpose on this planet is to preserve its beautiful things, then I will die a happy man someday. But today ain’t that day.

  I pull out a book of matches and strike one, then throw it into the fireplace. I watch as the shirt smolders, then peters out. Grumbling, I strike another match and another, throwing both on top of the shirt. Neither catch. I grab a couple handfuls of kindling from beside the fireplace and toss them onto the fire along with one more match. Smirking, I watch as the flames roar to life. I stand there and stare as the evidence of my attendance at the forbidden party goes up in flames.

  Just in time, too, because Trevor bursts into the house like a raging bull moments after the clothes become unrecognizable. I tug on one of my ratty, torn up t-shirts and plop on the couch. Grabbing up the book I’ve been reading, I flip it ahead a few chapters and pretend to be reading. He storms into the room and takes one look at me, then growls, kicking the coffee table.

  He narrows his eyes at me and wags his finger, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s like he wants to put the fear of God in me, but he knows he doesn’t have the evidence he needs to make an accusation stick. After ignoring him for several minutes, I casually glance up from my book. “Rough night?”

  He scoffs as Lacey and Layla filter in behind him. Lacey is stumbling and obviously drunk as a skunk. Which I find hilarious because if she’s toppling over tipsy, it means she got turned down. Probably more than once based on the way that she’s only standing upright because she’s clinging to Layla for dear life. Layla looks like she’s done with it all. She looks at me and sniffs, then sticks her nose in the air. “You wouldn’t understand, Eli. You weren’t there. You didn’t see the way that stuck-up socialite dude waltzed in and snatched Ashley Rogers right away from us.”

  Lacey hiccups and nods. “Stole her. No good son of a…”

  She stops there and I’m grateful because if she called my mom a bitch, I might have come up off this couch and socked her in her smart mouth. Girl or not, you wanna talk like a man, you can face the consequences like a man. No woman should ever diss another woman. They have it hard enough as it is without turning on each other.

  Layla rolls her eyes and deposits Lacey onto the couch beside me. It takes everything in me not to immediately jump up and off the couch. Lacey giggles as she topples over into my lap. She grabs my bicep and squeezes, then hiccups again. “You know, you’re not that bad looking, and we’re not really related… we could totally-”

  That does it. I jump off the couch with a horrified look on my face. “Lacey! I’ve been your brother since you were nine. That’s a whole new level of disgusting.”

  Lacey pouts at me from the couch. “Oh, come on. It’s not like you have good taste in women. You’ll fuck anything with breasts. Hell, with some of the things crawling out of your bedroom in the middle of night, I’m convinced you’ll fuck anything with a hole big enough to stick your di-”

  Thankfully, Trevor’s roaring voice cuts Lacey off before she can push her foot any further in her mouth. “Lacey, shut up! You’re not fucking Eli. That’s just a new level of low for you. He’s your brother for fuck’s sake - and worse, he’s below your station. You should always aim to get up a rung
on the ladder, not plop yourself right at the bottom.”

  He gives her a glare of death, then turns his fury on me. “So where have you been all night?”

  I halfheartedly shrug and motion to the book that Lacey is half laying on top of now. “After you tried to rearrange my face? Reading. You made it quite clear that I wasn’t allowed to show my face outside of the house tonight.”

  Trevor steps into my personal bubble, and I wince from the alcohol on his breath. Who the fuck drove home if everybody is toasted? I decide I don’t really want to know the answer to that question. The more I know, the more I become an accomplice if they, God forbid, hit something or somebody. The less I know, the better. He gets right in my face and snarls, “Damn right. And if I find out you defied me, you will regret it, do you understand me...son?”

  It takes everything in me not to bark right back at him, but poking the rabid dog is not going to end any other way than me getting bitten. I nod at him as I bite my lower lip to keep my mouth from betraying me. Trevor turns his gaze to Lacey and Layla, his voice cynical as he admonishes them both, “Seriously Lacey. I can’t take you anywhere. You’re either sucking some dude off under tables or trying to dance on them. Layla, you need to learn to control your sister. The two of you are positively embarrassing.”

  I bite down harder on my bottom lip to keep a chuckle from escaping my lips. Lacey’s three sheets to the wind and couldn’t care less right now, but Layla looks downright hurt by Trevor’s statement. To be fair, she’s the lesser of two evils. When we were younger, we actually somewhat got along. Once she hit her teens, she starting acting more like Lacey, and we drifted apart. The last thing I needed in my life was another Lacey, so I admit I’m the one who put the distance between us.

  With a little reprogramming, she might actually be tolerable. But as long as she tolerates living in Lacey’s shadow, she’s going to be just as useless to me as Lacey. With her hoity-toity attitude lately, I’m content when she doesn’t try to talk to me. She’s a totally different person when it’s just the two of us, but her insistence in putting on airs in front of Trevor and Lacey is tiresome.

  I’d rather let the crows peck out my eyes than listen to her pointless drivel when she’s trying to act like she’s better than me. We’re both the children of a gardener. The only difference is her parent is still alive, and mine isn’t. Oh… and my mother was a decent human being, and Trevor is scum.

  Scum that is currently eyeing me like he knows I’m hiding something. I cast a quick glance at the fireplace, relieved that the clothes are indiscernible from the rest of the burning material that’s crackling in the background. I clear my throat as I catch Trevor’s gaze. “I think I’m going to go to bed. I’m sure my night hasn’t been anywhere near as exciting as those two, but I have to weed the gardens on the East side of the property tomorrow, and it’s always best to get that tedious task done during the morning hours.”

  I slip around Trevor and kick the solo boot completely up underneath the couch. Thank the heavens my mother insisted on this hideous couch with a little skirt around the bottom. The boot is well-hidden and completely out of sight. I cast a knowing glance at Layla, who rolls her eyes with a sneer. I give her the most charming smile I can manage. When she doesn’t return the gesture, I shrug and continue walking to the stairs, hopping up them two at a time as I hum a happy little song.

  ELEVEN

  Ashley

  When I stumble into the Soho apartment at daylight, I’m not even surprised to find random women’s clothing items strewn about the living room. It figures that my father would use it as his own personal hotel room. It’s almost comical if you think about it, though. While he was here, making good on his mid-life crisis promise to himself to bang more women, his ‘perfect princess’ daughter was shagging a complete stranger in an actual hotel room. And it was a hotel room that had a self-service ice machine and a free breakfast buffet. Not that I hung around to take advantage of it.

  After slipping into Uncle Gio’s bar and donning a new costume, I returned to the party like an obedient little girl and danced with more than two dozen men. None of them held my attention for more than one song. Even the cute ones. A couple tried to make a move on me. I guess my reputation precedes me. But I had zero interest in any of them. All I could think about was Mr. Mysterious.

  My father would be livid at my audacity to dip below my station. Not that he has much room to talk. The red-bottomed shoes that are flung in the living room floor are clearly Chinese knock-offs. I should know. I own six of the real thing. Which reminds me that I should probably check my closet to make sure my things haven’t been touched. The kind of women my father likes to bring home also seem to think they’re owed something. I’ll be damned if my Louboutins are going home as souvenirs in anyone’s swag bag.

  I slip into my bedroom and push the door closed, locking it with a sigh of relief. My bed is undisturbed. Thank God for small favors. I lean against the door and slide down its smooth surface to the floor, then pull the boot I’d hidden under the layers of my dress into my lap. It’s not your everyday work boot and it’s not quite Italian leather loafers. It’s some strange cross between the two, and I suspect my Uncle Gio knows more about it than he’s willing to tell me.

  With a heavy sigh, I pull out my iPhone and fire a text off to Carter. It’s still four am there, but he’ll get it soon enough. And Carter always makes time for his baby sister. Plus, I’ll admit the contents of my texts are a little odd. Definitely a bait and switch moment that will force him to respond.

  Me: Carter, what can you tell me about fashionable leather boots in a men’s size thirteen?

  It doesn’t take five minutes before my phone pings with a response. I giggle as I see that its from Carter.

  Carter: Firstly, it’s still dark outside, little sister. Unless you’re texting me to tell me about some kind of fantastic sex that rocked your world, can this wait until morning?

  Chuckling, I swipe my lock screen so I can respond, but before I can manage to type a single word, I see the three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen that indicate he’s still typing. My phone pings again almost instantly.

  Carter: Wait… how cute was he? And why do you have one of his shoes?

  Me: No clue. Never saw his face. I think Uncle Gio is fucking with father again.

  Carter: You had sex with a man without even seeing if he’s cute? Girl, what kind of good shit did father have at that party?”

  Rolling my eyes, I turn the boot over and run my fingers over a mark on the sole. Oh yeah, Uncle Gio’s definitely been involved in this hookup. His name is stamped right onto the bottom of the gold-colored boot.

  Me: Yes and no clue. But he sure didn’t want me coming home anytime soon. He’s holed up with another whore…

  Before I can type anything else, my phone rings. I don’t even have to look to see who’s calling me because I already know. “Yes Carter, I had sex with a strange man. It isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last.”

  His voice chuckles on the other end of the line, “Well, your reputation is well-deserved, little sister. Was it good at least?”

  I sigh heavily and lean my head back against the door as I drop the boot to the floor. “Mind-blowing, Carter. As in, I’d do it again, even if it meant almost getting caught naked in an eighth floor room at the Edison...again.”

  Carter gasps. “Girl, you did not.”

  I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Oh yes, yes I did. Two toe-curling orgasms in the complete dark and then we almost got caught by father’s gardener. Whoever it was, apparently lifted his credit card to pay for the room.”

  Carter is silent for several moments before he tentatively asks, “Please tell me you didn’t fuck the gardener.”

  I make a retching noise, then scramble up off the floor, shimmying the party dress up over my head. “God, no. Ugh, I’d rather become celibate. It’s not for a lack of trying on his part though. And now that I’ve definitively turned h
im down, he’s trying to push his daughters on me.”

  Carter chuckles, “Trying to join me over here on the dark side? You really should give it a try sometime. You know, we have cookies.”

  I throw the party dress on my bed and walk over to my dresser. As I pull out the drawers one by one, I remind my brother, “Sorry, bro. To each their own, but I like dick too much to come to the other side. Besides, the way this man made me cream myself… I could literally die a happy woman right now.”

  “I understand. There really is something special about a man that knows how to use his dick. So many of them just wanna dip and run. Ugh, men are so savage. So what are you going to do?”

  I shrug as I hold the phone between my cheek and shoulder and change out my underwear from the sensible white cotton ones I wore last night to a black lace thong. I tap the phone screen to put Carter on speaker and toss the phone to my bed as I yank on a matching bralette. “I don’t know. Uncle Gio had something to do with this. Mr. Mysterious left behind a boot in the hotel room after he booked it out of there.”