Happily Ever After: (A Cinder & Ella Novel)

by Kelly Oram

  I blew out a breath, recognizing the end of his speech. It was a good one. I’d give him that. “You’ve definitely given me a lot to think about,” I said honestly.

  “Good.” His answering smile was almost as much pride for me as it was for himself. “Hopefully, I’ve persuaded you.”

  The man was relentless…and very good at his job. “You’ve left an impression.” I grinned, and he matched my dry smirk, knowing exactly what was coming. “I still plan to meet with all the others, too.”

  He laughed, accepting his defeat with grace, because he was sure in the end I’d come back to him. “You do that,” he said. “But do me a favor.” He pulled a business card from the inside breast pocket of his tux and handed it to me. Brian gasped softly when he saw that the card had Mr. Buchman’s personal contact information on it. “If you should decide to go with ICM or good old Bill Morris, do me the courtesy of calling me before you sign so that I can have one last chance to counter any offers they may make that might sway you to them. I would take you on as my personal client, if that’s what it takes to sign you.”

  Brian gasped again, louder this time. All I could do was stare at the business card that had the personal e-mail and phone number of the head of one of the largest, most powerful talent agencies in the world. It seemed so surreal. When I finally found my voice, I looked up again to see Mr. Buchman waiting for a response to his request. “I’ll do that,” I said, “if you’ll answer one question for me. Honestly.”

  Harvey nodded, brows raised in curiosity.

  “Why do you want me so badly? You, I mean. Personally. You could have let Brian’s agents handle me tonight. I assume they’re some of your best. If Brian really caused the stir you claim he did, I can’t imagine you’d pair him with anyone but your top agents. But spending a good twenty minutes with me when everyone at this party probably hopes to gain your attention at some point? Why? It doesn’t make sense. I may have a little hype right now, but I’m not star client material. I have no plans to be an A-list actor, the next chart-topping pop sensation, or even a supermodel. I’ll never make you the kind of money someone like Brian will, so why give me your personal contact information? Why offer to represent me personally?”

  When Harvey narrowed his eyes and suppressed a smile as if he were a cat caught with his whiskers in the cream, I shook my head at him. “Truthfully,” I warned him, “or you’ll lose my trust, and I’ll cross you off the list of possibilities right here and now.”

  Brian didn’t gasp again, but his whole body stiffened. Perhaps it was audacious of me to be so direct, but it didn’t make sense, and I didn’t like that.

  Harvey chewed on my request for a long time, stretching out the silence between us until it was nearly suffocating, but I refused to let him off the hook. When he finally decided that whatever secret he held was worth sharing in order to keep me from walking away, he said the last thing I ever expected. “It’s because I have a daughter.”

  He waited out a shocking bout of emotions, swallowing hard and taking a controlled breath before speaking again. “I have a smart, funny, caring daughter just a couple years younger than you. She is a beautiful young woman…with a strong Jewish nose, and my tight, frizzy curly hair, and my wife’s freckles. The height gene skipped her, and she’ll never be as thin as the girls in the magazines. Her beauty is unconventional, and she believes that equates to ugly. The kids at school act like her friends because of my status, and then they mock her behind her back. The only boys who ask her on dates are ones looking for an in.”

  He took another breath, as if needing to suppress a great deal of rage ignited by his protective instincts. I knew those instincts well. My father had them in spades. He’d banned Brian from his property, essentially cutting me from his life because he’d been angry that Juliette and Anastasia had been humiliated and put in danger on Christmas.

  “The other agencies will want you because you will make them quick and easy money with your current attention and your A-list boyfriend. I don’t want to make money, Miss Rodriguez. I want to make a statement.”

  His speech stole the air from my lungs. I was nearly moved to tears from it. I was also terrified, because he’d just made my decision infinitely more complicated and impossible to make. He’d made it real. He’d made it personal. From now on, every time I was faced with this topic, I would picture that adorably awkward teen girl struggling through high school, heartbroken and lacking self-confidence because she didn’t feel beautiful enough.

  Part of me wished I could unhear his story. But I’d asked him for the truth, and even though he hadn’t wanted to give it, he did. “Thank you for your candidness,” I whispered, still struggling to find my voice.

  “Mr. Buchman,” Brian said quietly, “my heart goes out to your family. More than you know. Because even with my support, Ella still struggles the same way your daughter does. It makes me want to set fire to the whole world sometimes when I have to hear the things people say about her.”

  Mr. Buchman’s face fell slightly, and he gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “Imagine,” Brian said, “putting your daughter on TV, and on the front page of every magazine, in her underwear no less, so that she feels more vulnerable than she’s ever felt in her life, and then circling all of those things she feels make her ugly with big red permanent markers so that the nation can gawk at her and debate whether or not she’s beautiful, or whether she deserves to be with someone more beautiful and perfect than her.”

  “I can’t,” he said simply. His face had gone white at the picture Brian painted for him, and he swallowed hard. “I could never ask my daughter to go through that.”

  “And yet, that’s what you’re asking Ella to do.”

  I leaned against Brian, suddenly lacking the strength to sit up on my own. Mr. Buchman’s eyes fell on me again, with a mixture of emotions. “I know that,” he said. “I know what I’m asking of you. And I know that asking you to do it makes me a hypocrite. But I’m still asking. Begging. Please consider it. Because it’s already happening to you, whether you like it or not, and you have the power to do something about it. Maybe you couldn’t change the world, but you could change the lives of those who suffer from insecurity the way you do. You could be someone to look up to. Someone to make them believe If she’s beautiful, and worthy of a man like Brian Oliver, then maybe so am I.”

  His voice gave out, and he had to take a moment to compose himself. Brian and I both sat, stunned, that this man, probably one of the most powerful and influential people at this party—which was really saying something—was practically on his knees in front of me.

  “Brian, you love Ella, don’t you?” he asked.

  “More than anything in the world,” Brian replied, startled by the seemingly random question.

  Mr. Buchman nodded. “Someday you’ll have children, and the love that you have for Ella right now won’t even compare to the joy those kids will bring into your life. And when they start to grow up, and you see them suffer, and you’re unable to stop that pain, then you will understand how I could ask such an impossible task of Miss Rodriguez. Of the both of you.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight, placing his hands on his knees. “And now…” He blew his breath out slowly. “If you’ll excuse me, I do believe you were right that I have other guests I should probably attend to. Thank you both for your time, and please think about it.” He rose to his feet, pointing at the card in my hand. “Hang on to that, and remember your promise. Call me first if you decide to sign with another agency.”

  “I will,” I murmured.

  “Thank you. Enjoy the party, you two, and Happy New Year.”

  With that, he slipped away, leaving a very stunned Brian and me sitting speechless on a sofa, staring at a business card.

  BRIAN

  We still had an hour to go until midnight, but Ella and I were exhausted. We snagged an empty sofa in front of a fire pit and both sighed as we got off of our feet. It took Ella
longer than normal to sit down, and I heard the wince she tried to hide. “How are you holding up?” I asked.

  “I’m okay.” She sounded breathy. I shot her a stern look, and she gave me a real answer with a sigh of defeat. “I should probably stay right here for the rest of the evening and maybe leave right after midnight.”

  I was afraid of this. I’d kept her off her feet as much as possible tonight, but there had been so many different people vying for our attention that it had still been a lot of up and down and standing around while mingling. Standing for long lengths of time was hard for Ella, especially when she wasn’t in her special shoes, but she hadn’t complained even once. She was doing that thing she does, where she was trying to act normal and refusing to be a “burden.” The woman was so stubborn. Strong, brave, and amazing, but stubborn.

  “Are you sure? We can leave now, if we need to. You don’t want to overdo it again, like you did when you went shopping with the girls.”

  She sighed again, but this time it came out more of a frustrated huff. “We don’t need to leave. I’ll be okay. I just really have to sit and stay down this time.”

  She adjusted on the sofa, grunting softly as she fought her hips in order to settle her bad leg into a comfortable position. I knew that look. She needed to stretch her leg out and elevate her feet. I stood, put a small pillow against the arm of the sofa, and gave it a meaningful pat. Ella glared at me, but I knew that was only her frustration talking. We stared each other down until she finally broke. “Ugh, fine.”

  She moved to sit sideways but stopped and grimaced.

  “Need some help?” I murmured. It was her least favorite question in the world, so I asked it as little as possible.

  Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. I gave her a small smile as I gently lifted her legs and helped her lay them out in front of her on the sofa. She didn’t normally need that kind of help. Her hip must have really been hurting her. Her pinched expression and pale face as she settled into her new position told me I was right. “Ella, you should have said something sooner.”

  “I didn’t want to.” The defeat in her tone broke my heart.

  “Ella—”

  “You’re the star tonight. This is a big deal for you. I just wanted to stand at your side and support you while you rocked the A-list for the first time.”

  I squatted down beside her, grinning as I took her hand. Rocked the A-list. She was adorable. This whole night had been crazy. After Mr. Buchman left us, it took a few minutes for the first curious person to approach us, but once the ice was broken, the introductions started and hadn’t stopped for the last two hours.

  She frowned at our clasped hands. “I know how excited you were for tonight. I wanted you to enjoy it, not spend it catering to me or worrying about me like you’re doing now.”

  “This night has been amazing,” I agreed, “but not worth risking you hurting yourself. Especially if you just needed to sit down. Haven’t you ever heard of a throne? You and I seem to be king and queen of this party tonight. We could have found a comfy seat and let everyone come to us.”

  I took a quick glance around to make sure no one was close enough to hear the arrogant comment about to come out of my mouth. The coast was clear, but I still leaned close to Ella’s ear and whispered my words. “They’d just have had to kiss our feet all night instead of our asses.”

  I got the response I knew I’d get, the one I’d been aiming for—a startled gasp and a smack to the chest. But she was laughing, and that was the important part. “Brian! Oh my gosh, shut up before someone hears you.” She rolled her eyes. “Even if it is true.”

  I laughed at that. I couldn’t believe the reception Ella and I had received tonight. People much more famous and influential than me had been congratulating me all night and welcoming me into their personal circles. Ella and I had received dinner invitations from just about the entire A-list. The whole thing was mind-boggling.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Oliver?”

  One of the party attendants had noticed me squatting beside Ella and brought me a chair. I stood with a stretch and shook the guy’s hand. “Thanks.”

  “Of course, Mr. Oliver. If there’s anything else I can do for either of you, please let me know.”

  His eyes flicked to Ella with concern, which endeared him to me and probably annoyed her. “Actually, we’d be grateful if you could track down some painkillers. Extra Strength Advil or Tylenol or something.”

  “Of course.” The guy nodded to me and flashed Ella a smile. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

  Ella looked relieved as the guy scampered off to find her some pain reliever. She was really tired. I scooted my chair closer to her and took her hand again, bringing it to my lips. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. We can leave once you get those pain relievers and they start to kick in.”

  “We’re staying.” Ella shot me a defiant look. “I didn’t get all glammed up just to duck out early and miss the chance to kiss my favorite A-list actor on a fancy rooftop at midnight.”

  My mind went gooey at the thought of finally getting to kiss her. She looked amazing tonight. Glen and Steffan had really outdone themselves with her dress. Ella had never looked more beautiful. It had taken all of my willpower to leave the house once I saw her, and I’d spent way too much time ever since thinking too many dirty thoughts. It’s funny how I could love her dress so much and still want nothing more than to take it off of her.

  Forcing my mind out of the gutter, I gave Ella my movie-star smile. “Well, you sure know how to convince a guy. I guess we’re staying.”

  “Great. Could you go find Declan Simmons for me? I think he’s around here somewhere, and it’s getting kind of close to midnight.”

  I’d walked right into that one. I tried not to laugh, but Ella knew I was fighting a smile. When she burst into laughter, I finally lost my composure. “Declan Simmons? You’re such a brat.”

  Ella laughed harder.

  “Sounds like the real party’s over here.”

  Our laughter faded into surprise as we looked up to see Astrid Graves smiling down at us. “Hope I’m not interrupting. I’ve been trying to snag a few minutes with you all night.”

  It took all of my acting skills to hide my shock. I’d been meeting the best of the best all night, but Astrid Graves was something else. She was only six years older than me and already had three Oscars—one of which she won at nineteen, making her the youngest woman to ever receive Best Actress at the Academy Awards. The beautiful brunette with eyes like ice had a regal air about her and was Hollywood royalty, if ever there was any—this generation’s Audrey Hepburn. I’d never had the privilege of being in the same room with her, much less had her speak to me.

  “Of course not,” I said, rising to my feet to offer her my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” She shook my hand and then smiled down at Ella.

  Ella held her hand out but made no attempt to move. “Sorry. I need to stay off my feet if I’m going to last until midnight, but you’re welcome to pull up a chair.”

  I offered her mine and quickly found another one to drag over. The two chairs next to the couch created this small, intimate circle in front of the fire pit that would be very difficult for anyone else to penetrate. Once I sat, I was just inches away from Astrid, and it was surprisingly hard to concentrate. Ella must have sensed I was flustered, because she reached for my hand and was trying very hard to suppress a smile. I narrowed my eyes at her, and she winked before turning her attention to the brilliant actress next to us.

  The party attendant returned with some Advil and a bottle of water. Astrid waited politely for Ella to swallow a couple of pills and then said, “So…” Her gaze bounced back and forth between Ella and me, as if she were studying us. Eventually, she shook her head as if in disbelief. “The infamous Cinder and Ella in the flesh.”

  “Said the Astrid Graves,” Ella quipped, shaking her head with her own fair amount of incredulity.
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  I was startled by Ella’s playful taunt. Here I was, unable to string together a coherent thought, and Ella was teasing the woman. Was there anyone she wasn’t intimidated by?

  Astrid’s eyes widened with surprise, but she quickly followed that with a laugh of delight. “Touché, Miss Rodriguez.”

  “Call me Ella.”

  “Only if you’ll call me Astrid. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Is it lame if I say it’s an honor? You’re one of my favorites.”

  Mine too.

  Astrid accepted the compliment with the grace of a true princess and then studied Ella and me again. I still couldn’t think of anything to say to her, so the silence stretched out. Just before it got awkward, Astrid clapped her hands together and said, “Okay, confession time. Zachary Goldberg is a dear friend of mine, and he’s been hounding me for weeks to play Marguerite in The Scarlet Pimpernel.”

  Ella and I both gasped. Ella shot me a look that contained as much shock and excitement as I felt. Could I really get to work with both Zachary Goldberg and Astrid Graves? That was more than I would have ever hoped for. I held my breath as I waited for Astrid to continue.

  “I’ve always wanted to do a period piece,” she said, making my stomach flutter, “so I read the script the second Zachary sent it to me, and I loved it.” She met my eyes. “But I hesitated when he told me that you were signed on to play Sir Percy. I’ve been sitting on an answer for weeks.”

  That fluttering in my stomach turned into a dull churning, but I forced my face to remain calm. I didn’t think she’d explain all of this just to tell me I was the reason she passed on the project. I really hoped not, anyway. I wasn’t sure I’d survive that kind of disappointment or rejection.

  Ella knew me well enough to know I was freaking out internally, because she firmly squeezed my hand. When I glanced at her, she gave me a confident smile. “Breathe, Brian,” she said softly. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got this one.”