by Cidney West
As she assessed her outfit in the mirror–dark skinny jeans, flats, and a sleeveless blouse–she knew that regardless of how dressed up or down she was it would not meet with Sylvia’s approval. She’d accepted that, along with a great many things, a long time ago. But no matter how much time went by, she still felt impelled to try. Even if she’d slacked off somewhat since she was a kid.
Satisfied that she wouldn’t be satisfactory, Ella left the safety of her own apartment and made the trek to Manhattan to her stepfamily’s Upper East Side townhouse. And what had been her home in another life. A maid greeted her at the door–a new woman since her last visit almost a year ago–and Ella waited in the starched living room in the front of the house. She’d be there until Sylvia was ready to eat and then the maid would lead her to the dining room. She supposed this extra time before dinner gave her a chance to reflect on all she’d lost after her father passed away and more time to get nervous about dinner.
Ironically, despite everything, the public part of the house in the downstairs had changed little since before Sylvia and her daughters had stepped into Ella’s life. She hadn’t seen the upstairs since she moved out right after high school but sitting in that living room was like stepping back in time to some of her earliest memories. She knew from her father that her mom had designed the inside of the house. Well, with the aid of an interior designer. But the style had very much belonged to her mother. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the lavender on her mother’s skin, which was the only visceral thing she could remember about her now.
Ella took a deep breath. That room was comforting, sad, and frustrating all at once. And Ella thought Sylvia somehow knew that and purposely stuck her there every time. But, truthfully, she was also pretty numb to a lot of those feelings now. They were still there but not with the same bite as before.
Of course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t still ache for days afterward.
The maid finally returned to summon her to the dining table and Ella dutifully followed her there. Her stepmother sat stiffly at the head of the polished cherry table, her mouth already pinched together as if Ella were late and not forced to sit in the living room all this time. Angie and Marie flanked her on either side. Ella was given her usual place since she moved out at the opposite end of Sylvia. Probably so she had no choice but to take Sylvia’s full wrath.
Ella sat, squaring her shoulders and meeting Sylvia’s eyes directly, refusing to slouch or avert her gaze. The maid draped a white cloth napkin across her lap and padded away. Ella never knew how anyone stood to work here though it did explain the high turnover rate. Angie smiled over cheerfully while Marie grinned slyly. Marie was definitely the cat in the duo, though not really smart enough to do any serious damage. Not that Marie realized that, but Ella had become aware of it not long after they moved in.
Ella waited to be spoken to and sat patiently while gazpacho was placed before each of them. Once Sylvia started to eat, Ella picked up a spoon. Angie slurped a couple spoonful’s, tossing Ella glances with a glint in her eyes. Finally, Angie bounced in her seat, gripping her spoon like a child. “I can’t wait anymore. We’re going to a ball!” she blurted out.
Ella only raised her eyebrows a smidge. Outbursts had been common with Angie and Marie as long as Ella knew them. Well, mostly with Angie. Marie glared across at her sister. After another taste, Sylvia said, “It’s a fundraiser,” then smiled coolly.
So that was why she was invited to dinner now. Ella wondered if there was an ulterior motive. But this was the sort of thing they liked to flaunt. Ella knew the invitation would technically include her as well since she was her father’s daughter and only blood heir. But Sylvia would never admit that or include her. Snubs like this had ceased to bother her quite a while ago. But they still tried to rub it in for some reason.
Ella could guess that Sylvia had told her daughters not to mention the ball to Ella tonight. But Sylvia knew as well as she did that Angie wouldn’t be able to contain herself. Ella had always thought it was so disturbing how Sylvia would play to her daughters’ weaknesses instead of their strengths in situations like this. And it wasn’t just concerning Ella. She’d seen it with other people too.
Ignorant of all of that, Angie clapped her hands like a child offered candy. “But it’s not just any old fundraiser. It’s the annual Pearce family fundraiser.”
At the sound of Cedric’s last name, Ella’s eyes involuntarily snapped to Angie. Angie’s eyes sparkled, and not in a mean way. She was just excited. Before Ella asked any questions, which she dearly wanted to, she caught herself. But even that look was too much of a giveaway. Before she reset her gaze to her soup, she noticed her stepmother watching her–carefully. This was why she fought so hard to mask her feelings around them. And yet she never quite succeeded. She knew it only gave them ammunition against her.
“Their company bought you out, didn’t they?” Marie remarked innocently.
Of course, Marie would somehow know about that. Anything to gain what they perceived was an advantage. Ella dipped her spoon into the gazpacho casually, fighting to ignore her mistake and move forward with composure. “I believe so.”
“Who cares?” Angie snapped at her sister. “The only reason I’m going is because that hunky Cedric Pearce will be there, and the invitation said he would dance with every available young woman who attends!” She practically shrieked the end of her sentence and Ella half-expected her to rocket out of her velvet-cushioned chair.
Ella almost choked on her gazpacho. How had she not heard about that? Maybe she’d been too preoccupied spending time with Cedric, but she felt certain someone at Vannoy would have heard about that and then told everyone else. She took a swig of water to clear her head. It was no big deal that Cedric would dance with loads of beautiful and glamorous women at a ball. What did she care?
“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” Marie examined her black-painted fingernails. “It’s not as if he’d ever fall for someone like you.”
Angie jutted her chin out. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Marie glanced up, her dark eyes dancing wickedly. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? With a nose like that and those piggy eyes of yours, he’ll never give you a second look.”
Angie’s lips pouted, her eyes glaring daggers. “Well, it said ‘young’ women, which obviously leaves you out, you old hag.”
Marie snatched a fork, aiming it at Angie. “Why don’t I come over there and give you a facelift? Anything I did would be an improvement.”
Angie grabbed a butter knife, bolting out of her seat. “Just try it, hag.”
Just as Ella thought a full-fledged deathmatch was underway, Sylvia’s voice cut through the air. “Girls,” she said calmly, aiming a hand at Ella. “We have guests.”
Angie’s nostrils flared while Marie grinned across at her, both ready to do bloody battle right there over the soup course. Angie finally flung her knife back on the table, flopping into her seat. “She’s hardly a guest.”
Sylvia gave Ella a pinched smile. She’d taught them well. “I’m sure the girls would like some help choosing dresses for the ball. You’ll make sure they look their best, won’t you, Ella?” Maybe Sylvia had caught her choking when Cedric was mentioned, or maybe this was the plan all along. Either way, she was trapped. Again. “I won’t have time to go shopping with them and you know how they get.”
Unfortunately, Ella thought.
“Of course she’ll go,” Marie said, acting like she hadn’t just threatened to maim Angie. “What else does she have to do?”
Heat rose to Ella’s face, but she told herself to just calm down. This was nothing new. She could totally handle it. “Only if they go shopping when I’m off work,” she said firmly. She wasn’t risking her job to help these–Ella glanced between them–adorable creatures find dresses for a ball.
“I’m sure they can accommodate you.” Sylvia raised her head slightly to look down her nose at Ella across the table.
<
br /> Ella knew that was unlikely and she hated feeling like she would give in anyway and go with them, regardless of what she said now. Worse, she knew Sylvia knew it. Ella managed a thin smile in return, struggling to hide the irritation boiling inside her. So, she repeated what she and Scarlett had gone over before she came: Sylvia does this to make you miserable–so don’t be. But it was easier said than done.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Angie said. “Marie’s the difficult one.” She glowered over at Marie, who narrowed her eyes. Ella knew there would be plenty of payback after she left. So it was nice that she could leave and not have to deal with the fighting and then the making up where they would inevitably team up against her instead. Just the memory of it made her nauseous.
A little over an hour later, and no dessert, Ella was finally free. Without so much as a hug or a “nice to see you,” she was dismissed and back out on the street, the girls’ raised voices in the background as the maid shut the door. Part of her wanted to run home but another part was too exhausted, and she strolled down the sidewalk instead, the scent of the living room still imprinted on her memory. She admired the expensive townhomes she passed, wondering what if…what if things had worked out differently, though it was such a pointless thought. Things hadn’t worked out differently and she couldn’t change that.
Her mother had died when she was young and her father when she was still a child. She’d gained a stepmother and sisters who despised her and shamelessly forced her out of her own inheritance. But…if none of that had happened, then Ella might well still be living in that house herself with these other people as neighbors, planning to go to a ball where she might get to dance with Cedric Pearce…
She couldn’t help it and sighed in longing just thinking about his twinkly hazel eyes and cheeky grin. He wasn’t the type of guy she would have imagined for herself, but he was more appealing by the second. She could only imagine what it would be like to have his arm around her waist, close enough for their faces to touch. Ella slowed down and closed her eyes, conjuring up the spicy scent of his aftershave, which always gave her chills now. And she knew it would only be that much more divine locked in a dance with him.
Before she got too carried away, she cut that thought short, shaking her head. It didn’t matter because none of that was reality. She was an assistant who lived in a regular old apartment and she wasn’t going to a ball and Cedric Pearce would never dance with her.
Ella decided she’d lingered long enough and picked up her pace. This was why returning here was dangerous. If she had any sense, one day she’d pick up and move to the other side of the country. No memories. No what-ifs. Just a clean slate. For now, she’d take a piece of Scarlett’s chocolate cake.
CHAPTER 12
Cedric couldn’t believe it when he saw that his father was essentially auctioning him off at the upcoming fundraiser like a side of beef. When he brought it up, his father had nonchalantly said it was a good marketing tactic and that they were having the best response in years. Cedric didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just left his dad’s house and drove off. He figured he’d go back to his apartment–or maybe a gym to burn off some of his annoyance.
But as he made it down the street, he caught sight of someone walking who might make his annoyance vanish without any effort. And, not in a mood to think things all the way through, Cedric pulled over and rolled down the window. “Ella!”
She jumped, spinning around. After a second, she relaxed, stepping closer. “Mr. Pearce? What are you doing here?”
He wanted to ask her the same question. “My dad lives nearby. What brings you this way?”
Ella didn’t answer immediately, looking torn. “I have a…relative in the area.”
He wasn’t sure why she hesitated to tell him that. It only made him more curious. “Maybe I know them.” He looked up the street where she came from, wondering which house she’d been inside all the time he was having another round with his father.
“Probably not,” she said. Then added quickly, “Anyway, I should get home before it gets any later.”
Cedric glanced over at the empty seat next to him. “I can give you a ride. It may not be faster, but it will be more comfortable.” He didn’t know a lot about public transportation except that he didn’t want to know a lot.
Her face betrayed that same torn look she’d had a few seconds ago. “All right…if it’s not any trouble.”
He wanted to tell her there was nothing he’d rather do, but he said instead, “It’s no trouble at all. Hop in…I mean…” Before he finished, he hurried out and over to open the door for her. She smiled shyly before getting inside his Ferrari for the second time. Cedric rubbed his hands together before getting back in. The night was better already, and he hadn’t even left his father’s neighborhood yet.
“So, you really won’t tell me who your relatives are?” Cedric asked once they were down the street. He couldn’t figure why she’d hide that. They couldn’t be that bad.
She hesitated again, but finally said, “The last name is also Brodie.” She gazed out the window while Cedric searched his memory.
“Sorry…don’t think I know them.”
Ella smiled, maybe in relief. “I didn’t think you would.”
Cedric tilted his head toward her. “My father might though. He’s much more into schmoozing than I am.”
“So…you don’t live in this area?”
He wanted to laugh. He’d never choose to live that close to his father. “I have an apartment in another part of the city. But, like I told you, I don’t spend a ton of time in town if I can help it.”
Ella turned back to him. “You really don’t like it here?”
“I just like to travel.” He shrugged and Ella nodded thoughtfully as if she understood something he didn’t say. After all, she got that his relationship with his father wasn’t all that awesome. “How was your visit? You know, with your family?”
She dropped her eyes. “It was fine.”
He moistened his lips, glancing over. “So…they’re not your favorite relatives, I take it?”
Ella cracked a smile. “They’re basically my only relatives.” She didn’t elaborate and Cedric figured it wasn’t a good idea to press her for more information. She was sweet but definitely seemed to like her privacy. “In any case, the chicken was good.”
Cedric grinned. “I guess that sort of makes up for things.”
“Sort of.” She folded her arms, then unfolded them. “I just wish sometimes that I could be…I don’t know. Different somehow, so it didn’t bother me so much.”
Cedric could relate. “That’s how I feel whenever I come home.”
“Because of your father?” Ella sounded unsure if she should ask, but it didn’t bother him.
Cedric shook his head. No matter how old he got, some things never changed. “I feel like I’m ten when he’s around. I can’t seem to shake it.” Not that he’d ever really tried. He’d just run the other direction. But still.
“I guess I’m not the only one, then.”
Cedric half smiled. The little she was giving away made him curious to know the full story. “And neither am I, so there we are. Maybe we’re all screwed up because of our childhoods.”
“Could be.” She leaned her head back, staring straight ahead. “What happened to your motorcycle? Did you just drive that the first day to throw us off guard?”
“So, you heard about that?” Cedric didn’t know why but he felt sheepish knowing Ella knew. It seemed silly in retrospect.
“Heard about it? I saw it.” Ella laughed lightly. “We all wondered what we were in for.”
Cedric felt his cheeks flush and was grateful it was dark. He must look like such a buffoon to Ella, who was conscientious about her job and life it seemed. He cringed imagining what she must really think of him. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.” If he had known Ella beforehand, he definitely would have rethought that.
“I don’t know tha
t there was anything wrong with that type of introduction,” Ella said, a smile dimpling the corner of her mouth, “but it certainly shattered any preconceived notions we had about you.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” The idea that Ella had preconceived notions about him at all was intriguing. He liked the idea that she thought about him. Even if they hadn’t met yet.
“I can’t speak for everyone. But based on what I’d seen online, I had a very straightforward, suit-and-tie kind of man in mind.”
“Based on what you’d seen online?” Now Cedric was really interested in what she’d known about him beforehand.
“You know, on the Knightley Media website.” She glanced his way but then kept her eyes ahead of her. “There’s a section about your family with photographs. When we learned about the takeover, I looked it up.”
Wow. She did homework and everything. He’d barely glanced at the dossier for Vannoy, and now he felt guilty about it. “Right. I forgot about that.” He stroked the back of his head, barely recalling the professional photo session he’d been wrangled into years ago. It was not a good day.
“Anyway,” Ella continued, “that’s the only image I had in my head. So, when you showed up, you know, like you did, I was a little…shocked.”
And that’s what he’d been going for. It worked. Just not in the way he’d hoped. Now, though, he wondered if he’d regret it if it had worked out like he planned. Not that he was giving up his plans…because he wasn’t…but he did like getting to spend time with Ella. And he could live with things taking longer if he got to see her every day.
He glanced over when he stopped at an intersection, admiring how a streetlight illuminated her blue eyes. Yeah. He could definitely live with it.