Manhattan Cinderella

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Manhattan Cinderella Page 23

by Kate O'Keeffe


  And no Cole.

  I tried to keep a low profile, remain in the shadows as much as I could. It’s something I’ve grown good at. But I learned fast it’s darn hard to stay out of the spotlight when you’re the newest member of the Pop Princesses—not to mention the person Rex Randall’s newfound son had a showdown with before he mysteriously disappeared.

  People wanted to congratulate me, tell me how well I’d done, ask me about my future with the band, ask about Cole. I should be on top of the world, on a total high from my runaway success. I’ve taken that huge step forward to my goal of being a professional musician.

  A huge step forward, and a stumble and fall back.

  The whole after party, I found myself looking at the door, hoping, praying Cole would walk through it, a smile on his face, forgiveness on his mind.

  Did not happen.

  Instead, I had to deal with people’s questions about him, about Rex, about what I knew. I played dumb. Of course I did. I wasn’t going tell them I was the one who messed up, that I inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. That my mistake had cost me so dearly.

  It cost me my heart.

  And now here we are, the most dysfunctional of blended families, making our way through the streets to the penthouse in a gaudy limousine, complete with pink neon strip lighting and a fully-stocked bar.

  “I still cannot believe your boyfriend is Rex’s son,” Kylie drones on, as she has since she found out. Well, when she wasn’t telling a crowd of eager hangers-on how amazing she was on stage tonight, or snapping selfies with whichever famous person she could lay her hands on.

  I throw her a look intended to tell her to shut the heck up, but in true spawn style, she ignores me. “Cole Grant is a massive story right now. Everyone’s going to want a piece of him. You’ll have to watch out now, Gabby. Women are going to want a bit of that action. Plus, he’s totally smokin’. A younger, hotter version of Rex Randall, really.” She sits up straighter in her seat. “Huh. That totally makes sense now.”

  Kylie may be beautiful and a natural-born star, but she was late back from recess when the brains were being handed out, that’s for sure.

  She looks me over. “I don’t understand. How did you manage to get him?”

  If I had any fight left in me, I’d consider throttling her right about now. Instead, I let her words wash over me as I turn back to the window and try to make sense of the last few hours.

  In my silence, Cece leaps to my defense. “Gabby’s beautiful and talented and smart, that’s how. Cole is the lucky one here. He gets my sister.” She crosses her arms and pouts, and I feel a rush of love for my brave little sister—and a throb of pain in my chest for the loss of Cole.

  “Oh, all of this makes a lot of sense to me.” Sylvia is eyeing me from her seat across the aisle.

  “How, Mom? None of us knew they were related,” Kylie protests.

  “You, Gabriella.” I drag my eyes from the window to look at her as she arcs her evil brow at me. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew he was Rex’s son. That’s what this whole thing has been about, hasn’t it?”

  I open my mouth to respond and then close it again. What is the woman playing at? She overheard me telling Cece about him. She’s the one who leaked Cole’s story that created this whole freaking mess. I clench my jaw and steel myself for whatever fresh cruelty she has in store for me now.

  “Well?” she says when I don’t respond. “Exactly how long have you known Cole is Rex’s son?”

  I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. “Does it matter? You and I both know who leaked the story to the media. There’s no point in playing dumb here.”

  She has the gall to look affronted. “Play dumb? I can assure you, child, I’ve never ‘played dumb’ in my life, and I’m not about to start now.”

  Frustration adds to my already overflowing pool of emotions. What’s her game plan here? Act like she didn’t do it? Of course she did it! Who else could it be?

  “You expect me to believe you didn’t take the story to the media?” I say.

  “I don’t care what you believe. I did not know Cole was Rex’s son,” Sylvia bites.

  “The way everyone found out, just as he sang his song with Rex, after I’d finished my first set as a Pop Princess, is your style, and we all know it.” I clench my teeth, and my nostrils flare as I stare her down. “Why are you doing this? Isn’t it enough that you hurt him? That you hurt me? You win, Sylvia. He’s gone.”

  Cece sucks in air. “Cole’s gone?”

  I give her a short nod, the pain twisting once more.

  Sylvia gets that condescending look on her face I’ve seen all too often. “Gabriella. I’m going to say this carefully for you, so you understand: I did not leak that story to anyone. You need to get your facts straight before you go accusing people of such serious allegations. I could sue you for defamation, you know.”

  I blink at her as I process her words. Sylvia Tremaine is many things, but I’ve never known her not to own whatever scheme she’s dreamed up. “But if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” My eyes dart around the car, from Sylvia to Kylie and finally, to Cece in the seat beside me. My sister has pushed herself right back in her seat, as though she hopes it’ll swallow her up, her expression pinched, her eyes downcast.

  It was Cece? Cece?

  I clamp my mouth shut. If it was her—and please, God, don’t let it be her—then the last thing I’m going to do is ask her about it in Sylvia’s presence. We two need to stick together—even if she’s done this to me.

  Cece leans closer and raises her eyes to mine. “It was Thaddeus,” she says haltingly, her voice low so only I can hear.

  I shake my head, confused. “What do you mean? How would he—” The guilt on Cece’s face tells me all I need to know.

  Her face twists as tears prick her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Gabby. I-I wanted him to like me.”

  I blink at her, trying to understand. My sister broke my trust to win some self-satisfied jerk’s approval? My heart rate kicks up and my mouth dries.

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for Cole to have left.” Her tears spill down her cheeks. “Honestly, I didn’t. I’m so sorry, Gabby.”

  I press my eyes shut and suck in air, my frustration and anger almost at boiling point. I love my sister. I’ve stayed with Sylvia for her. I believe that she didn’t mean for this to happen. But my God, I wish she’d kept her darn mouth shut.

  “You know what?” Kylie says as she pulls a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and begins to pour a glass. “Forget about who leaked the thing about Cole and Rex. I don’t really care. We should be celebrating the Pop Princesses. Gabby and I rocked it tonight. The audience loved us. We’ve got the rest of the tour now.”

  To my surprise, she offers me the full glass of champagne. I take it and try out a smile. “Thanks.”

  She pours another two glasses, hands one to Sylvia, and keeps one for herself. “Sorry, Cece. You’re just a kid.” Cece looks at her hands as Kylie raises her glass. “To the Pop Princesses.”

  “What a shame it wasn’t Britney up there with you tonight, where she belongs,” Sylvia says as she and Kylie clink glasses.

  Kylie glares at her. “Mom!” She gestures at me, and I lift my eyebrows in surprise.

  Kylie wants her mother to toast me? Huh. That’s a turn up for the books.

  “Oh, all right. Well done, Gabriella,” Sylvia says without an ounce of sincerity as she raises her glass.

  I take a sip of my drink, and the bubbles tickle my nose as it slides down my throat.

  Sylvia taps her chin. “Gabriella’s boyfriend in the news could be a very good thing, even if he has left her high and dry.”

  “Seriously? We’re back to that again,” Kylie complains.

  “Hear me out, darling. If Cole and Rex are in the news, it means the Pop Princesses will be in be the news, too.”

  “Yes!” Kylie squeals so loud I’m forced to rub my ears for fear of a burst drum.
“I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “We can milk this for all it’s worth. Then, once the story is yesterday’s news, Britney will be back. You know, Gabriella, I think I underestimated you. You’re a clever little minx, aren’t you? I imagine you get that from your mother,” she lets out a spiteful laugh and adds, “because you certainly didn’t get it from your father.”

  The mention of my parents sparks my fury within, and I turn to the window, taking slow and steady breaths to hold it back from bursting out.

  A few blocks, my entire glass of champagne, and a whole lot of visualizing myself anywhere but in this car later, we pull up outside our building. As we walk through the lobby, I hear someone call out, “Gabby! Oh, my God! We’re so glad we found you!”

  Raffy and Izzy come flying at me, almost bowling me over.

  “You were amazing tonight! But, oh, what a way to end it!” Raffy says as she pulls me away from Sylvia and the others.

  “We got your texts. Are you okay?” Izzy says as she collects me in a hug.

  “And we saw the stuff online about Cole being Rex Randall’s son. What a bombshell that must have been!” Raffy adds. “Crazy night, huh?”

  “Oh, my gosh, yes! The highs and the lows. It’s like a Greek tragedy. Or an episode of The Kardashians.” This from Izzy.

  “We had to come see if you’re okay.” Raffy rubs my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course she’s not. Look at her,” Izzy says.

  I let out a puff of air, my tears threatening a repeat performance at their kindness. “Yes. No.” I let out a heavy sigh. “When I got up this morning, I wouldn’t have even dreamt my day would have turned out like it has. It’s been,” I try to find the most accurate way to describe it, and eventually land on, “insane.”

  Because that’s what it’s been, insane. Britney chasing her lover across the stage, falling and breaking her leg; Rex spilling the beans that I’d auditioned for him; my first performance as a Pop Princess; and then finally, the worst part of it all, losing the man I love through my own, stupid mistake.

  Now that I think about the last twenty-four hours of my life, “insane” is the only word for it.

  “You two are the best, thank you.” My eyes dart to Sylvia across the hall, who looks like she’s been sucking on lemons. I give my besties hugs. “I think I’d better go. I’ll call you, okay?”

  “No, we’ll call you,” Raffy says.

  “We love you, Gabby,” Izzy adds.

  I dash across the lobby and into the elevator with the others. I ignore Sylvia’s contempt as we sail up to the top floor.

  As the elevator doors slide open and the four of us walk across the penthouse’s tiled floor, I’m suddenly exhausted. All I can think of is collapsing into bed, and not waking up until all this drama is over.

  “Hello,” a male voice says, and my heart momentarily leaps into my mouth at the prospect of it being Cole—before my brain reminds me that he doesn’t want to come within a one-mile radius of me anymore.

  Yup, that little gem.

  My eyes widen and my pulse races when I see who’s standing before me, smiling, looking relaxed, healthy, and happy. “Dad?”

  “How are you, my pumpkins?” he says to Cece and me as his grin spreads from ear to ear. “My God, it’s good to see you two.”

  As I stand like some sort of statue, rooted to the floor, gawping at him, Cece shows no such reservation. She launches herself into his arms. “Dad! You’re here!” She buries her face in his neck. He wraps his arms around her and lifts her off the floor, spinning her around like he used to when she was a little girl.

  “Dad, I’m fourteen,” Cece protests, although her elation at his return is obvious.

  “Can’t you let your old dad take a walk down memory lane?” he says with a chuckle. His eyes find mine, his features warm and relaxed, and a twinge of sorrow grabs in my chest. “My Gabby. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Hi,” is all I can manage as Dad is swamped by Sylvia and Kylie greeting him, too.

  “Darling! What a wonderful surprise,” Sylvia gushes. “We didn’t know you were coming home tonight. I thought you were still in India or Guatemala or I don’t know, somewhere.”

  “I’m back for good, and I could not be happier to be here.” Dad places a hand on Sylvia’s shoulder and plants a brief and very chaste kiss on her cheek. I notice her bristle at the contrast between Cece’s greeting and hers, but she pastes on her impassive smile in a heartbeat. Not a lot gets through that façade.

  “Well, we weren’t prepared for your arrival, Michael. We’ve been out at Madison Square Garden,” Sylvia says. “The girls had a wonderful show tonight, supporting Rex Randall.”

  Dad lets out a whistle. “You supported Rex Randall? Good for you,” he says to Kylie.

  “Yeah, and it was totally great. Gabby filled in for Britney who broke her leg. She was legit good,” Kylie says.

  I noticed Kylie had started calling me “Gabby” earlier in the day, and I’ve got to say, it feels nice. Unexpected. She’s always treated me with surly indifference, which was a breeze compared to her sister’s spiteful nastiness. With the toast to my success in the car, who knows? One day, we might actually be friends.

  Yup, insane is the only way to describe my day.

  “I’m so glad you put Gabby in the band,” Dad says to Sylvia. “My girl is very talented.” He crosses the floor to me, and despite standing stiff like I’m made of marble, he pulls me in for one of his strong, familiar hugs. As he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, my tension begins to disperse. I breathe in his “Dad” scent, and I lose my rigid control. Enveloped and warm against his chest, I’m incapable of holding everything in anymore. All my pain, all my anguish floods out in large, wracking sobs—not just from the day’s shocking events, but from the months and months he was away, when I felt desperate.

  Abandoned.

  Alone.

  Dad rubs my back as my tears flow freely. “Hey, what’s all this about?” he asks.

  I feel arms slink around my middle and look around to see Cece, sandwiching me between her and Dad.

  “Oh, it will be all the excitement, darling,” Sylvia explains. “Tonight was a big concert, and I imagine she’s a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

  “And don’t forget the big shocker over her boyfriend,” Kylie adds.

  “You have a boyfriend?” Dad asks me.

  I pull away from him and attempt to wipe my eyes dry. It’s a losing battle, and I would bet with my smudged eye makeup, a family of pandas would welcome me as their own. “Had,” I manage.

  “Oh, pumpkin. Let’s get you cleaned up and you can tell me all about it, okay?” Dad offers me a box of tissues from the side table, and I pull a couple out.

  “Want the blanket Mom made you, Gabby?” Cece says, sounding like she’s the one who has held things together all this time and not me. “It always makes you feel better.”

  Choked with tears, I nod. She walks down the hall toward the staircase to our room.

  “Cece, have you forgotten where Gabby’s room is?” Dad asks.

  She turns back. “That’s Britney’s room now.”

  “Is that so?” His questioning gaze returns to Sylvia. “Have you changed the layout of my home as well as turning everything black?” I can tell by the tone of his voice he’s not in the least impressed by Sylvia’s redecoration efforts.

  Sylvia shifts her weight, looking about as comfortable as a giraffe in heels. “We had to make some changes, Michael. You’ve been gone a long time.”

  He ignores her and instead asks me, “Where do you sleep now? In the guest room?”

  I wipe my eyes and do the kind of sniff you usually only hear from truckers. “Cece and I share a room in the attic.”

  “In the attic?” He purses his lips and cocks his head to the side as he frowns at Sylvia. “What other changes have you made in my absence, Sylvia?”

  “Oh, Michael, darling, as I said, you’ve
been gone for so long now. What is it, ten months?”

  “Five,” he corrects.

  “Five months is a long time. We needed to make some changes to work as a family.”

  I harrumph by her use of the word “family,” and am rewarded by Sylvia’s frosty glare.

  “She makes us do all their chores, Dad, and she treats Gabby like a slave for the band,” Cece says, brave as ever, not caring for the consequences of her words.

  But perhaps now that Dad’s home, there won’t be any consequences? Hope rises inside at the prospect.

  “She’s performed for the Pop Princesses a total of one time, and that was only because Britney broke her leg today,” Cece continues. “She’s been their assistant all this time, Dad.”

  “Is this true, Gabby?” he asks me.

  I don’t look at Sylvia. Instead, I simply state the facts, holding my nerve. “We live in the attic, we cook and we clean, and my job up until about twelve hours ago was assistant to the band, a glorified dogsbody, I guess you could say.”

  Dad stands at our side, immobile, his gaze trained on Sylvia. “I think we need to have a little talk, Sylvia. Don’t you?”

  Sylvia begins to protest, “Your daughters have greatly exaggerated the situation, Michael. It’s a flight of fancy for your benefit. Can’t you see what they’re doing? They’re punishing you for being away for so long. Why don’t I fix you a drink and—”

  “Stop,” he commands, his voice gruff, and Sylvia immediately clams up. “Yes, I’ve been gone for some time. I can’t deny that. It was selfish of me, and I regret it deeply, especially now that I see how you’ve been treating my daughters.” He takes a step closer to her. “Had I known what you would do to my girls in my absence, I would never have left. You know, Sylvia, I had a hunch you were not the woman you said you were, and now that I hear how you’ve treated the two people who mean the most to me in the world, it pains me to say I’m starting to think that hunch is right on the money.”

  Sylvia’s hands fly to her hips as she squares her shoulders. “You have a pretty odd way of showing your daughters you love them, leaving them here while you swan around the world visiting your ridiculous ashrams and yoga retreats,” Sylvia spits, her tone cold and uncompromising. “You deserted them, Michael. That’s what you did to your daughters, the two people who you say mean the most to you in the world. You deserted them.”

 

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