by Stacy-Deanne
Cinderella’s Prince
By
Stacy-Deanne
Table of Contents
Title Page
Cinderella's Prince
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
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Copyright © 2017 Stacy-Deanne
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Readers: Thanks so much for choosing my book! I would be very appreciative if you would leave reviews when you are done. Much love!
Email: [email protected]
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Other titles by Stacy-Deanne Include:
Bruised Series
Tate Valley Sexy Suspense Series
The Seventh District
Dead Weight
You’re the One
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CHAPTER ONE
Los Angeles, California
“What did you say?” Gabrielle Montane leaned forward in her chair, certain she misunderstood what came out of Futero Cosmetics’ representative Cedric Lincoln’s mouth. “You wanna run that by me again, Cedric?” She tugged on her gold earring, grinning. “Because I couldn’t have heard what I think you said.”
Her agent, Lessie Price, sat beside Gabrielle with her forehead puckered.
“I’m sorry, Gabby.” Cedric clasped his hands, his strawberry-blond hair bound into a slick ponytail. “Futero Cosmetics will not be offering you a new contract.”
She wasn’t moving but felt as if she’d fallen out of the chair and into the abyss. He couldn’t have said what he’d said. Futero Cosmetics had been Gabrielle’s life for the last 12 years. She was the hottest black model in the industry. Gabrielle wasn’t just the face of Futero; she was the face of everything.
“I...” She felt her forehead, doing her best not to get ‘Brooklyn’ on Cedric.
“This has to be a joke,” Lessie said. “We want to speak to the CEO. Get Donald on the phone because this makes no sense.”
“Who do you think decided not to renew her contract?” Cedric reclined in the leather chair. “Believe me this hurts Futero as much as it hurts you guys. We’re grateful for the hard work and years Gabrielle has given us but good things come to an end.”
“This...” Gabrielle’s breathing quickened. “This has to be a nightmare.”
“Don’t get worked up, okay?” Lessie laid her pink, liver-spotted hand over Gabrielle’s thigh. “It’ll be all right.”
“All right?” Gabrielle slammed the desk. “How could you do this, Cedric? I put my entire life into this company. I helped you sell millions of products around the world.”
“We know, Gabrielle. We’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done, but can you be surprised?”
“Yes!” She jumped up in her black, Armani pants suit. “I’ve done all Futero wanted me to do. I’ve always put this company first, even before my personal life.”
“We appreciate that and you mean a lot to us too—”
“So that’s why you’re kicking my ass to the curb without warning? Cedric.” She shook her head. “Please, you guys can’t do this. I’d have nothing.”
“You’re the hottest model in the world right now.” He sighed. “You’ll get thousands of offers.”
“If I was still the hottest model, then you wouldn’t be letting me go.” She pointed her French-tipped finger at him. “Don’t give me a bowl of shit then tell me it doesn’t stink. Why are you doing this?” She leaned over his desk, staring into his midnight-brown eyes. “Tell me the truth. Futero owes me at least that.”
“You’re too old, Gabrielle.” He tapped his pen against the desk. “You’re just too old.”
“Old?”
“You’re thirty-four and in modeling years you might as well be a hundred.” He leaned forward. “It’s amazing you’ve been on top this long. You should be proud.”
She chuckled, struggling not to cry in front of him. “There’s some new eighteen-year-old model Futero wants, right?”
Lessie stood, pulling at her slender skirt. “Gabby?”
“It’s okay, Lessie.” She smiled at her. “I know the deal. When you’re hot you’re hot, and when you’re not, you’re not.”
“Gabrielle, you will always be one of the most beautiful women in the world,” Cedric said. “Women and girls idolize you all over. You have millions of fans who’ll love you, regardless. Please don’t let this take your spirit. If it were up to me, you’d still be here, but this is business, and we need people who can appeal to the younger audience. Someone they can relate to.”
“God, you’re talking like she’s eighty,” Lessie said. “Look how old Heidi Klum is, and she’s still on top.”
“Heidi hosts one of the most popular shows on TV.” Cedric squinted. “Name another model over forty who’s relevant.” He shrugged, dimples poking from his reddish cheeks. “I can’t.”
“You’ll regret this.” Lessie pointed, her sapphire-blue eyes throwing fire. “Black people weren’t even buying your products before Gabrielle signed on. She’s the reason you tapped into that audience. It’s because of her you did the African-American line.”
“And the African-American products will continue to carry her name and she’ll get proceeds. We’re not trying to cut Gabrielle out of anything. She will always be a part of us.”
“I just can’t be the face, right?” Her voice cracked.
“I don’t know what else to say,” Cedric said.
“I was loyal to you guys.” Gabrielle stood erect with the tips of her fingers on the desk. “Do you realize how many companies tried to woo me away from Futero? Maybelline, Clairol, Loreal, every damn one of them wanted me.” She touched her bosom. “They were offering me even more than Futero, but I didn’t stab you in the back. I didn’t leave because I love this company and the people in it. How dare you?” She walked to the
door in her black-and-white Prada pumps that matched her pinstriped suit. “Don’t dress it up as being about business because Futero and I were more than business, we were a family.”
“And you always will be a part of the Futero brand.” Cedric stood. “Gabby, please try to understand. Once you realize this wasn’t personal, then things will become clear.”
“No. The only thing that will remain clear is how much Futero will regret this. I promise you.”
He nodded with tight lips. “We might.”
“You will.” She flung the door open. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be the best damn spokesperson Futero ever had. And I’m a star.” She stuck her head in the air, a tear escaping. “And not even Futero can take that away from me.”
****
The Next Morning
“Hm?” Thirty-eight-year-old Hugh “HuMac” Macintosh sat under the silver, satin sheets of his king-sized bed, Googling himself as he did every morning. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Sierra Delfino snuggled beside him, slurping on a juicy, orange slice from her breakfast tray. “How’s the movie going?”
“Huh?” Hugh scrolled over millions of links of news articles about him.
“Fatal Honor? The huge movie you’re working on that my dad’s producing?” Loose strands of Sierra’s golden hair caught between her lips as she sucked the orange.
Hugh clicked on an article. “You realize you’re eating hair?”
Sierra pulled the straight strand from her flat, upper lip. “How come you love talking about the movie with everyone but me?”
“Why do you say that?” Hugh read the article, scoffing. “The media is pathetic, isn’t it? Practically reviewing the damn movie and it’s not even filmed yet. What a surprise. Felix Craft is talking about it on his site.” He cursed to himself while pointing to the screen of his laptop. “He can’t wait to bash the hell out of the movie just because I’m in it. I should’ve sued his ass years ago for those lies he says about my movies.”
“He’s a film journalist.” Sierra chewed. “It’s his job to critique.”
“Critique, not trash.” He read Felix’s post. “Funny he didn’t say a damn thing about me. Just talking about Dash. I bet he had a hard-on when he wrote this.”
“Dash is the hottest actor in Hollywood right now. Who doesn’t have their head up his ass?”
“Me. This is my film.” He pushed up his reading glasses. “I’m the director and people better recognize. I get so tired of doing all the work then the actors get all the credit.”
“You’re the one who cast Dash.” Sierra ate her maple-syrup waffles. “He’s Hollywood’s golden boy so get ready to be overshadowed.”
“No one...” Hugh yanked off his glasses. “And I mean no one overshadows Hugh Macintosh and don’t you forget it.”
“I told you not to get Dash, and he doesn’t even like you.”
“I’m not too fond of his overpaid, goody-two shoes ass either, but this is Hollywood and he’s the biggest thing in it right now.” Hugh put his glasses on and went through another article that highlighted Dash yet ignored Hugh. “It’s like he directed and produced the movie.”
“If you ask me I don’t think Dash fits the part of Rex.” Sierra ate bacon. “I read the script, remember?”
“You can put Dash in a beer commercial and it would become bigger than Star Wars. I don’t care for the guy, but he’s definitely a plus. Every movie I’ve directed was a blockbuster hit. You know why?”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “If I didn’t you’d love to tell me.”
“Because I have an eye other people don’t.” He poked the soft, brunette hairs of his muscular chest. “I listen to my own instincts and not what others think I should do. Take Terminal Attraction for instance.” He looked up, heart racing as if he’d orgasmed. “It became my biggest movie. One of the top ten most grossed action films of all time. And why?”
Sierra huffed, sipping orange juice from the glass.
“Because I listened to myself.” Hugh stuck his chin out. “Not all the criticizing and warnings folks gave me about casting Cameron Mundy as the main star. Everyone said I was a fool to give him a shot after he got out of rehab. People wouldn’t even speak to him let alone put him in movies anymore.”
“No one admires how you gave Cameron a chance more than me. If it wasn’t for alcoholism, I’d still be the biggest actress.” She scoffed. “I can’t believe it’s been two years since my last movie. I was hotter than Jennifer Lawrence.” She lowered her head. “Now I’m Lindsay Lohan times one hundred.”
He touched her shoulder. “You’ll be hot again, Sierra.”
“Anyway, I understand the hardships Cameron faced. But, Dash is a different situation.”
“The point is I make things happen when others doubt my decisions. I brought Cameron’s career back from the grave. No one would’ve taken a chance on an ex-crack addicted action star teetering on bankruptcy, but I did. Now he’s hotter than fish grease again. Everything I’ve done has worked out. People need to trust the vision.”
“Well, Dad’s ecstatic about Dash being the star.” Sierra squinted. “Every time I see him in the news he’s singing Dash’s praises.”
“That’s why I’m glad to be working on your dad’s movie.” Hugh smirked. “Ian’s not a legendary producer for nothing. He’s just like me. He goes with his instinct.”
She laid her head back on the pillow. “Especially when it comes to me.”
“This isn’t about you.” Hugh concentrated on Google. “This is why I wanna keep the movie separate from us.”
“Why?” She set the tray on Hugh’s luxury, Italian nightstand. “Tired of hearing about me and my father?”
“Bingo, Sierra. I don’t want the animosity you have for your dad to corrode my thought process.” He propped his leg up under the cover. “Don’t you get tired of that same song?”
“Same song, huh?” She smacked her lips. “Do you realize how self-centered you sound? My dad’s never supported me and once everyone in this town turned on me...so did he.”
“Sierra.” Hugh raised his hand. “I told you to let this shit go or you’ll never be happy.”
She motioned her mouth as if she’d speak but remained silent.
“Holy shit.” Hugh gaped at the headline underneath one of his articles. “What the hell?”
“What?” Sierra squeezed beside him, gawking at the screen.
“Futero Cosmetics fired Gabrielle Montane? This can’t be real.”
Sierra touched the screen. “What do you know?” She chuckled. “The Face is no longer the face.”
“I can’t believe this shit.” Hugh continued reading. “Talking about she’s too old. Are they nuts? Gabrielle is the hottest model in the world.”
Not to mention she lights my fire more than any woman ever has.
“It happened yesterday.”
Sierra shrugged and scooted back to her side of the bed.
“Donald Cuterez is an idiot,” Hugh barked. “Man, Futero’s gone downhill since he started running it. How in the hell do you fire the hottest model in the world?”
“She’s too old.” Sierra bit into a bacon slice.
“She’s your age and if someone called you too old, you’d be ready to sue.”
“Yeah, but I’m not a model.” She chomped. “I’m an actress.”
“You were an actress.”
“Seriously?” Sierra got out the bed in her pajamas and tank top, nipples protruding. “Do you even think before you speak, Hugh? How could you say that?” She marched to the adjacent bathroom, slamming the door.
“I’m sorry,” he said to appease but didn’t care.
He Googled Gabrielle, ideas swirling in his head the more he read of her separation from Futero.
Gabrielle Montane.
She’d been the object of his desire for years and the only woman he hadn’t been able to get.
He tugged on the silver stud in his ear, droolin
g over the large photo of her.
Gabrielle.
She stood in a seductive pose with her hip poked out. Her mocha-brown skin sang in the yellow bikini while long, thick waves of jet-black hair flowed over her shoulders.
“Looks like you need a hero right now.” He moved closer to the screen, enraptured by her slanted, sandy-brown eyes. “And, that hero is me.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Well, well, well.” Dash Phillips moved his legs through the swirling water in his luxury hot tub, placed on the extravagant deck of his 5,000 square foot mansion. “Sierra Delfino. Isn’t this a lovely surprise?” His sweeping, bronze-tone eyes reminded Sierra how crazy her body became whenever he looked at her. “Shocked you paid me a visit.”
“I see you still like to relax in the hot tub after breakfast, huh?” She rolled the strap of her purse in her hands.
“You’re nervous.” The sideburns of Dash’s short, dust-colored hair had grown a bit since his latest magazine cover. “So?” He arched a bushy brow. “Did you need something or did you come here just to stare at me?” He parked the tip of his tongue between his begging-for-a-kiss lips. “Because if you want to stare then I can slip out these trunks and really give you something to look at.”
“I’ll pass.”
He hung his dripping arm over the side of the tub. “You still want me.” He clenched the end of her pleated skirt, lifting it. “And, I want you.”
“Stop it, Dash.” She slapped his hand. “We’re not doing this.”
“Doing what?” He sat forward, tilting toward her. “Giving into what we want? What we need?”
“Dash—”
“How long are you gonna punish me, huh?” His narrow nose wiggled. “It’s been a year since you broke it off. Haven’t I suffered enough?”
“I didn’t break things off to make you suffer.”
“Then why the hell did you do it?” He plunged a fist into the water. “I gave you everything I had, Sierra. I’m thirty-five and being with you was the first time I’ve ever loved a woman so much.”
“Stop.” She lowered her head. “I won’t let you get to me anymore.”
“Why not?” His voice rose at the end of the sentence. “What did I do that was so wrong?”