Ella And The Billionaire's Ball (Once Upon A Billionaire Book 2)

by Catelyn Meadows

  Relief and devastation duked it out inside her chest. When Chloe had said accident, her mind had flown to worst-case scenarios. Canceled flights. School shootings. At least it wasn’t something drastic like that.

  But missing pillowcases? After all their hard work?

  “How many are missing?”

  “Ten,” Chloe said.

  “Ten?” Ella sank into the chair. Ten pillowcases. The day was already half over. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. She couldn’t feasibly finish her dress if she had ten more pillowcases to make before tomorrow night.

  “Do we have any material left?” Chloe asked.

  Ella sniffed. “No. We’ll have to pick some up. With all the last-minute shoppers out there, that could take hours.” Ella remembered just how long it had taken to get through the cutting line at the store for the pieces lying on her table. Traffic along the streets, crowds in the stores, malfunctioning cash registers, and cranky impatient shoppers didn’t help. Ironic, how the happiest time of the year sometimes brought out the worst in people. Only when shopping, Ella supposed.

  She gave her unfinished gown a fleeting glance. The ball would have to wait. Those kids couldn’t wake up with only a portion of them receiving pillowcases and not others. They all deserved a happy surprise on Christmas morning.

  “I’ll go buy fabric,” Chloe said. “My flight doesn’t leave for a few more hours.”

  Ella held out a hand. “No, you can’t miss that. It’s okay. I’ll go.”

  Chloe glanced at the material. “But your dress…”

  “Will still be here when I get back,” Ella said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “I won’t even be here to help you.”

  Ella pushed aside the budding heartache and fastened on a smile. There was always a bright side. At least they still had time to finish the pillowcases, right? “Don’t be. This isn’t your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault. It just happened. What matters is that we get those pillowcases done in time.”

  Chloe pursed her lips. “Maybe you can call Brandy. She might be able to come.”

  “Not happening,” Ella said. “You know how excited she was to go to that Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree activity her family’s been planning. It’ll be fine. I have no plans, not really.”

  She tried her hardest to believe it as she said it. The ball didn’t matter. It didn’t.

  “It just doesn’t seem fair,” Chloe said. “You deserve a good Christmas with your family just like everyone else.”

  Ella blinked, willing the tears away. Smiling helped with that. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Go get yourself to the airport.”

  An argument lingered in Chloe’s expression, but she sighed, releasing it. “Fine. Here. Give me a hug.”

  “Thanks for all your help with the other ones,” Ella said, hoping to make sure Chloe left on the best note possible. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “Merry Christmas, Ella,” Chloe said, retrieving her suitcase and leaving the apartment.

  Once again alone, defeat began to rust inside her, tarnishing Ella’s every attempt at finding something good in this. She had to face facts. She wouldn’t have time to make her dress, which meant no ball. She might as well go to work on Christmas Eve. What else was there to do?

  Ella left the pieces she’d cut on the table, snatched her purse, coat, and hat, and scurried out into the cold.

  She supposed she could be brave. Take Grammy’s advice. Call Stina, tell her she was going to enjoy Christmas in whatever way she could and take the risk of being fired or quitting outright. But she dialed a different number instead.

  “Grandma, hey.”

  “How’s that dress of yours coming?”

  “It’s not,” Ella said, determined to keep her chin up. “Something came up and I’ve got to take a raincheck. That means I’ll miss seeing you on Christmas morning, too. I’m sorry, Grammy.”

  Ella could bear her grandma’s reprimands over Stina’s harsh rebuttals. She knew what a coward that made her, but she could only handle so many setbacks at once. Maybe she was just destined to be alone.

  Grandma waited several seconds before answering. Ella guessed she was arguing with herself about whether or not to give Ella a hard time for this decision.

  Her soft side gave out. “I’m sorry too, Ella girl. What about your dance?”

  Ella sniffed again. Crinkled her nose. “Not happening. I don’t have time to make my dress.”

  “Buy one,” Grammy insisted.

  “It’ll be okay. It’s just a ball.”

  “And you’re a girl who’s never been to anything like that before. I’m telling you, you should go.”

  “I already spent my life savings on fabric,” she said with a downtrodden laugh. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll finish the dress after Christmas is over and sell it. I’ll add it to my portfolio, for school. Maybe then I’ll have the guts to talk to Stina.”

  That would be the time to do it, she told herself. Once things started going right.

  “You’d have your big start if you’d just take a chance at it,” Grammy nagged in her pushy, loving way. Apparently, she couldn’t hold herself back after all. “You’re too busy doing everything for everybody else. Let someone else do something for you for once.”

  Ella couldn’t hear anymore. She was already battling sorrow as it was. Like it or not, this was the way things were, and she had to do what she could. Buying a dress, standing up to Stina, going to a handsome billionaire’s ball, was no longer part of that, and she had to accept it.

  “Why don’t you let me help you?” Grammy offered. “I can sew the dress.”

  Though Grammy couldn’t see it, Ella shook her head anyway. She knew her grandma had some serious skills in her time, but she couldn’t ask this of her.

  “No, Grammy. It’ll be okay. Say hi to Grandpa for me.”

  “Ella.” Grammy’s tone turned corrective. “You know Grandpa would tell you the same thing.”

  Something told her Grammy wasn’t talking about the dress this time. Of course, her grandfather would envelop her in his arms and speak comfort to her. He would encourage Ella to stand up for herself and stop pushing everyone away too. For some reason, she couldn’t hear it from him as well, and if she waited long enough. Grammy would pass the phone over to him so he could do just that.

  “I know,” Ella said through her tightened throat. “I’ve got to go, Grammy, okay? Bye.”

  ***

  Footsore and soul-weary, Ella kicked her door closed and hauled the bags of cloth to her table. She’d had to estimate amounts while waiting in horrendous lines at Margery Fabric. The ticket counter ran out, and so the poor women at the cutting tables had to stop cutting in order to put refills in. The numbers got all out of order. Ella had been sure a fight would break out over who would be cutting their material next.

  It wasn’t even grandmas. It was young moms. Everyone seemed to lose all sense of other people this time of year.

  Though she wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers in her bed with a good book, Ella began digging out folded cuts of cloth from the gray plastic bag and paused. Her table was cleared off? When did that happen? Where did the cuts for her dress go?

  She was losing her mind. Ella shook her head as if that would rattle her memory back into place.

  “I must have forgotten I moved it,” she said to herself, too frazzled to care. “It’ll turn up later.”

  Time was ticking. She was already facing a long night as it was.

  Ella worked like the only honeybee in a hive, cutting, pinning, and sewing. Cutting, pinning, and sewing. One pillowcase really took only about an hour to put together once everything was ready. Somehow, she knew she would get all ten pillowcases done.

  Even though she had the next morning off at Ever After, her body hadn’t gotten the memo. Routine was too embedded in her, and her entire frame sensed when eight o’clock struck.

  “Morning comes too soon,” she sai
d, leaving her piles. She still had tomorrow.

  With Stina’s scheduling, getting the new pillowcases finished and to the hospital in time, and her gown in pieces, Hawk Danielson’s ball the following evening was becoming a distant, unreachable fantasy.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ella’s gown filled her dreams. She fantasized of showing up at Ever After Corporate, and making a grand entrance in her beautiful dress while its train swept the way behind her. She imagined capturing Hawk’s attention, of him recognizing her as the woman in the elevator, of being swept into his arms and thoroughly kissed.

  The dream hung around her neck, whispering its invention even after she woke on December Twenty-fourth, even after she ate her puffed rice cereal and began pinning and sewing all over again.

  The morning passed quickly, thanks to being able to sleep in for the first time in years and the noise of her sewing machine’s needle chugging in time to Christmas music. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas was always Ella’s favorite. She loved the movie it originally premiered from: Meet Me in St. Louis.

  Memories surfaced of sewing with her mom and grandma as a child. They’d made quilts, and clothes, all while playing old movies and musicals in Grammy’s living room. Grammy had a designated sewing closet, built specifically as a space for her machine, fabric, patterns, and tools.

  Ella had played beneath quilt frames, watching needles being guided in and out of the fabric to create delicate lines and patterns. She’d run her fingers along the quilting, loving the feel of the cloth puffing out just enough alongside it, listening to the lighthearted laughter and intriguing conversation between her mom and grandma.

  It was a life she’d loved. A fortunate, priceless upbringing. Her mother was gone, which probably made her cherish the memories even more.

  Maybe she should have taken Grandma Larsen up on her offer of help. Still, it was too late now.

  Ella sewed and sewed, stopping only for drinks and bathroom breaks. By three p.m., she hemmed the last pillowcase.

  “Done,” she said, exasperated as she flopped back into her seat. Her back ached, her hands were tired, but at least she didn’t have to stitch these by hand. That was a plus.

  In a rush, she folded each pillowcase, wrapped them carefully, individually, and then boxed them into a manageable container before making her way to the hospital.

  Ella was ragged at the edges by the time she made it back home. Loneliness pinched her chest. She couldn’t let herself wallow, though. She had her health, which was more than she could say for the kids at Harmony Children’s.

  After dropping her keys twice, she plugged them into the door and opened it. Ready for darkness. For a lonely nap and some ramen noodles before she had to get to Stina’s job.

  But her apartment was anything but lonely.

  The lights were on. The hallway from the door to the dining and kitchen area was cleared of clutter. A delicious aroma of ham and brown sugar mixed with cinnamon taunted her empty stomach.

  She hadn’t stepped into a scene like this since, well, since her mom had been around. More memories triggered inside of her. Coming home from school, being greeted by her mom in an apron. Descending the stairs Christmas morning to be greeted by a cluster of presents at the base of their tree. Hugs and stories before bed. Icing cookies to leave out for Santa with her mom and singing as they cleaned up afterward.

  But this couldn’t be her mom’s doing.

  Female voices and high pitched laughter greeted her ears, along with the soft sound of carols being played. Ella tugged on her scarf, removed her coat, and stared.

  Her living room and kitchen had all been cleaned. Surfaces wiped. Floor swept. The lights on her tiny Christmas tree beamed just a little bit brighter.

  Ella trudged in enough to peer around the corner. Too near the surface the past few days, tears sprang to her eyes at the sight of Grandma Larsen beside the stove. Chloe, Adelie, and Adelie’s older sister, Suzie, whom Ella hadn’t spoken with in years outside of Facebook, also turned and greeted her from their positions around the cramped kitchen.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “Surprise!” Grandma and Adelie said in unison, tossing up their arms. Ella gaped at the mop in Suzie’s hands.

  “You guys,” Ella said, lost for words. “Chloe, what are you doing here? Your flight.”

  “I delayed my flight,” Chloe said with a grin. “Your grandma cooked this up.”

  “She called us over too,” Adelie added, grinning at her.

  Ella moved in a slow circle, taking everything in. There didn’t seem to be an inch of her apartment they hadn’t cleaned. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she hurried to dab it away.

  “I can’t believe you guys. And whatever that is, it smells amazing.”

  “That’s not all we’ve been up to,” Chloe said, exchanging a look with Grandma Larsen.

  Grammy smeared her hands on her apron. “You want to show her, or shall I?”

  Chloe released a squeak and dashed down the hall and into her room, returning with something long and flowing. She held it aloft, displaying it on its hanger as though she worked in a clothing store.

  “Check it out!” she squealed.

  Ella’s knees buckled. While it wasn’t her dress Chloe cradled in the long, gray bag, this gown was equally exquisite. Pink, beaded lace, scalloped shoulder line, Ella reached a hand to stroke the visible ruched waistband that seemed to be made of satin through the bag’s plastic.

  She sank against the counter, completely speechless. “You bought me a dress?”

  Chloe draped the gown on the cleared table, which was usually covered in material and at least two sewing machines.

  Grandma Larsen strolled over and plucked the zipper. Slowly, she guided it down, giving Ella a glimpse of the light peppering off the beads within the pink lace.

  “I stopped by after our last phone call,” Grammy said. “Your roommate was still here, and we decided you needed a Christmas miracle. But Ella girl, your notes were a mess. That was one complicated pattern, and I didn’t have time to figure it out. I found one as similar to yours as I could.”

  “Grammy,” Ella said, still staring at the gown. “This must have cost a fortune.”

  “Good thing I’ve been working extra hours,” Grandma said with a wink. Ella opened her mouth to protest when Grammy patted her cheek. “It was nothing, my girl. Someplace called Circle of Elegance was having a big, holiday sale, and I snatched this gown the minute I saw it.”

  The tears were streaming now. Ella didn’t bother holding them back any longer. All the weariness, the stress, the heartache, gushed down her cheeks in a waterfall of gratitude and disbelief.

  “You’re the reason my fabric went missing,” Ella turned to Chloe, wiping her cheeks.

  “Guilty,” Chloe said. “But don’t worry. It’s folded nicely and waiting for you to finish it when you have more time.”

  “Th—thank you. I know it’s not enough, but I can’t say it any other way.”

  Chloe laughed. She tossed her arms around Ella, then made way for Grandma, Adelie, and Suzie to all throw their arms around her until, somehow, they’d each managed to shuffle and converge into one group hug.

  Ella held her breath. Warmth streamed into her chest, along with comfort so strong she’d forgotten what it felt like. She floated, as though a heavy load that had been making her stumble had just been removed. An utter sense of calm emitted from her grandma, her friend, and her cousins, and Ella basked in it, not bothering to keep the tears at bay any longer.

  She longed to submerge herself in this feeling, this safety, this sense of wholeness that had been so fleeting for so long.

  This was what it meant to be loved. She’d forgotten. A reassuring peace rendered her joints suppler than melted chocolate. Everything was all right. It would be okay because she had these people in her life.

  “I—I can’t believe you did this,” Ella said once they’d all pulled away and settled themselves around her tab
le. She couldn’t manage to move, so she remained where she was in a total daze, wiping her cheeks with a tissue one of them had handed to her. “Thank you.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” Grammy argued. “Miracles happen on Christmas Eve, don’t you know.”

  Ella swiped a hand at her eyes. For some reason, that comment reignited the tears all over again. It brought up an ache so penetrating it gave her physical pain in her chest.

  “I don’t, actually. From the way things have been lately, all the miracles so far are ones I’ve had to make myself.” An optimist could state the facts, after all.

  “Look at all those pillowcases you sewed. You got them to the kids, didn’t you?”

  “I—yeah, I did.” For a minute, she’d forgotten she’d told Grammy about them.

  “Those kids won’t ever have any clue how hard you worked on all those, but the pillowcases are miracles,” Grammy said. “Made with love. Miracles don’t have to come at random. Sometimes they’re on purpose, and those are the best ones.”

  Ella shuffled over and collapsed into the vacant chair situated between her fridge and her dining table. “You didn’t have to do this for me,” she said. She couldn’t stop staring. At her clean apartment. At her dress. It was all too much to take in.

  “Yes, we did,” Adelie said. “You do so much for others. And your dad and stepmom not inviting you home? Talk about pathetic.”

  “We wanted you to know you’re important,” Chloe added, scooting forward in her chair.

  Ella’s lower lip trembled amid her racing pulse. One by one, she made her way around the table, hugging each of them while sunlight shot a single ray straight to her.

  Her mother was in those words. In each of her cousins’, grandma’s, and Chloe’s hugs. They hadn’t just brought Christmas into her home. They’d returned it to her heart.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Hawk stood before the mirror in his office, snapped the black suspenders over his white pleated tux shirt, and donned the coordinating white jacket. He couldn’t pinpoint the last time he’d been this nervous. The last time he’d been so anxious to make a good impression.