Tempting: A Cinderella Billionaire Story

by Sophie Brooks

  “Blake, who is it?” An elegant, refined voice emerged from inside the house.

  Reluctantly, Blake stepped aside, and I rushed to explain. “I’m sorry, but I tried to give her juice, and she’s not good with the sippy cup yet, and it got all over me, and I just need to—”

  A tall, slim, impeccably dressed woman appeared at the door. She wore heels, a dress with a matching jacket, pearls—she looked every bit the high society wife Blake claimed she used to be. Her hair was dark, wavy, and fell in artful swirls just below her ears.

  “Blake, where are your manners? Invite them in.”

  Blake stepped back even farther, gesturing inside. His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled with introducing us to his mother, but what could I do? I really didn’t want to mess up his car. It was so pristine it looked as if he’d just driven it off the lot yesterday.

  And speaking of pristine… wow. My god. The entryway to the Hollister house was like a museum. There was a marble archway and a chandelier that would have put the one from The Phantom of the Opera to shame. But the museum theme prevailed. All around were paintings, vases, and sculptures. Even Zoe was looking around in awe, and she didn’t have much to compare this to. But when she clutched at my wet shirt, I was reminded of why I was here.

  “I’m sorry to barge in on you,” I said to Blake’s mother. “But if I could just use your restroom for a minute—”

  “Not at all, my dear,” his mother said smoothly, moving forward. “Blake, you should have told me you had friends with you. No need to leave them out in the car.” The words should have sounded reproachful, but instead they sounded a little… lonely. No matter what had happened between those two in the past, I couldn’t imagine a life in which my only child and I weren’t close.

  Blake’s voice was formal when he spoke. He sounded nothing like the man who’d had his body wrapped around mine a half hour ago. “Mother, this is my friend, Penny. Penny, this is my mother, Ellen. And this little girl who has a lot to learn about drinking juice is Zoe.”

  “So nice to meet you,” Ellen said, looking from me to Zoe and back again.

  “You too, Mrs. Hollister.” Though I wished I were meeting her under different circumstances. Like, for instance, when Blake truly wanted me to. And when I wasn’t wearing a soaking wet shirt. “If I could just use the restroom for a moment, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Of course, dear. It’s just down the hall to the right.”

  “Thank you.” Then I looked at Blake. “Would you mind holding her, just for a minute?”

  The look on his face would have been amusing in any other situation. It was pure terror. It dawned on me then that I’d seen him hold her hand. Wave toys in front of her. And he’d let her lean against him today. But could this confident, successful man actually be afraid to hold her? If so, I didn’t want to embarrass him, especially not in front of his mother. “It’s okay, I can just—“

  Ellen cut in. “Don’t be silly, I’ll hold her. You go get cleaned up.”

  “Are you sure? She didn’t get too sticky, but she still…”

  “Of course. Come here, sweet little girl.”

  Zoe went willingly into Ellen’s arms, her sunhat falling off. Blake scooped it up, folded it, and put it in his pocket.

  “Oh, aren’t you a little sweetheart,” Ellen continued, bouncing Zoe on her hip. “You look just like Blake did when he was a baby. Same dark eyes, same brown hair…“ She paused and then let out an anguished cry. “My…oh, my heavens.”

  I’d taken a few steps down the hall, but I turned back. Had Zoe spit up? Or pulled Ellen’s hair? Her precisely made-up face was pale, and I sprung back, my arms outstretched. She looked as if she were about to drop my baby girl. She was staring at Zoe, looking stricken as if she’d seen a ghost. Her mouth hung open. What on earth was wrong?

  “Mother?” Blake said, also reaching out. “Are you all right?”

  One tear, then two ran down Ellen’s face. Her hands trembled, but then she hugged Zoe tightly to her chest. She looked up at her son, and her voiced trembled. “You should have told me.”

  I was at her side now, trying to ascertain what was wrong, but she held Zoe in a firm grasp, hugging her tightly.

  “Told you what?” Blake asked.

  More tears streaked down Ellen’s face yet her eyes were full of joy.

  “You should have told me I’m a grandmother.”

  Penny

  What?

  Nothing made sense as I stared at Ellen. Did she really think that Zoe was Blake’s child? But he’d introduced us as being his friends.

  My gaze met Blake’s. He looked as puzzled as I was, along with a note of panic.

  “Mother—“

  “You should have told me,” Ellen said, patting Zoe on the back and swaying slightly. Zoe, for her part, looked perfectly content in Ellen’s arms.

  “Mother, I—she—“

  “I know we’re not close,” Ellen said, her voice shaking.

  Suddenly, I wished I were somewhere else. She didn’t need a perfect stranger intruding on her private emotions. But the moment I tried to step back, she reached out her free arm. “My dear girl… you have no idea how happy I am to meet you. You and this beautiful little girl. My first grandchild.”

  “Mrs. Hollister…” My attempt at setting her straight trailed off as Ellen looped her free arm around my neck, pulling me closer.

  “Please, call me Ellen. We’re family now.”

  Once I was at Ellen’s side, I shot Blake a panicky look. “Do something,” I mouthed.

  But Blake seemed stunned. Finally, he tried again. “Mother, we have to talk.”

  “Of course we do. I want to know everything about you.” This last part was directed at me. The gratitude in Ellen’s eyes did nothing to quell the panic inside me.

  “Mother, Penny has to go clean up.”

  Ellen chuckled, a watery sound through her happy tears. “I’m sorry, Penny, I was so excited I forgot.”

  “You go ahead,” Blake told me. “And my mother and I will have a talk.”

  Nodding, I set off down the hall. Thank god I wouldn’t have to be here when he told his mother the truth. The joy in her eyes was almost painful to behold.

  As I did my best to rinse the sticky strawberry lemonade off my shirt in the largest, most ornate bathroom I’ve ever been in, I thought about what Ellen had said about Zoe looking like Blake. All babies did look similar to a certain extent, but I’d never noticed any similarity. I suppose Ellen had seen what she wanted to see. She didn’t have the best relationship with her son, so she saw Zoe as a fresh start. It was a shame it wasn’t true—she seemed to be really trying. Despite the way she’d treated Blake when she was a young trophy wife, she seemed to genuinely want to be close to him now.

  There was a knock at the door and a woman who introduced herself as a housekeeper handed me a pale coral-colored shirt. Gratefully discarding my damp tee shirt, I pulled the soft fabric over my head. It was cashmere and had a scoop neck. When I looked in the mirror, it fit me perfectly. Moreover, if you ignored my jeans, it made me look almost like I belonged here in this fancy house. Not completely, but almost.

  Since I didn’t know how much time Blake needed, I dawdled, fixing my hair, doing my best to freshen up. I hadn’t even grabbed my purse out of the car, so I didn’t have any makeup. Still, I did what I could.

  When I figured enough time had passed, I headed out. Even though I knew she was in good hands, I was eager to see Zoe again. Plus, she’d need to nurse again soon.

  No one was in the entryway anymore, but I followed a huge staircase up, hearing voices as I went. I finally found Blake and Ellen in a beautifully decorated sitting room. It was almost as large as Blake’s office, but the sofa Ellen was sitting on as she bounced Zoe on her knee looked comfy enough.

  Ellen smiled as I neared. “That shirt looks lovely on you, my dear.” She was happy. She was still happy. Uh-oh.

  Turnin
g, I cocked an eyebrow at Blake and caught him in the act of checking out the cashmere shirt, as well. He seemed to like the way it looked too, judging by the appreciative look on his face. But now was not the time.

  I cleared my throat, and his eyes shot to my face. His expression changed as he caught my silent question. He shrugged helplessly, tilting his head toward his blissfully joyful mother.

  Oh my god. He hadn’t told her? But he had to. She had to know. It was going to crush her, but she couldn’t go on believing that Zoe was her flesh and blood. This had gone on too long already.

  Steeling myself, I sat down on the sofa. “Mrs. Hollister, we need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do. And please, call me Ellen.” Her smile radiated warmth as she turned to me. “I want to know everything. When was she born? How much did she weigh? Does she sleep through the night? Tell me everything.”

  Her eyes were watery as she hugged my little girl to her again. The woman was so palpably happy. When was the last time I’d made anyone that happy?

  I was beginning to see why Blake was having a hard time telling her the truth.

  Blake

  “These cookies are amazing… Ellen.”

  I could tell that Penny wasn’t comfortable with calling my mother by her first name, but it seemed minor compared to the lie I was forcing my personal assistant to participate in. Penny was sitting next to my mother, nursing Zoe, wearing my mother’s shirt pushed up over her breast, the filmy scarf wrapped around her not hiding much of anything.

  Just that one sentence was enough to keep me in therapy for years. First, there was the fact that my mother thought I had a child. A baby. Me. The man who’d been faithfully using condoms since he was fifteen.

  Then there was the fact that Penny looked super-hot in my mother’s shirt. It hugged her curves in all the right places and until she’d whipped out a breast, I hadn’t been able to stop staring at her. But if there were ever a mood killer, it was being in the same room with your mother and the exposed breast of the woman you were lusting after.

  Penny, for her part, seemed perfectly comfortable nursing in front of a strange woman and answering her many, many questions about the baby. True, from time to time she shot me a look, clearly demanding that I come clean, but all in all, it looked like she was having a pleasant afternoon. Zoe certainly was. She’d been delighted to meet my mother. Unbelievable.

  While the women in the room were having a nice time, I was in hell. I shouldn’t have let this go on for so long, but… I’d never, ever seen my mother that happy. That content. Before Penny knocked on the door, we’d chatted. Stiffly. Formally. Neither of us knowing how to bridge the gulf—the years—between us. And then Zoe had done that effortlessly. I should have set my mother straight right away, but I hadn’t. And now I just couldn’t.

  I was paying the price, now. This was a nightmare. Especially when my mother used a word I’d never heard her say before. The “w” word. What the fuck?

  “It was small. Just a few members of his family and some of our friends,” Penny said.

  Ellen look shocked. “Your father didn’t even come to your wedding?”

  My mother was asking Penny about her wedding to her ex-husband? Holy fucking shit, how had they gotten on that topic?

  I stood on near the fireplace, leaning against the mantle, drinking a glass of scotch and listened to the most unlikely conversation I could imagine.

  “He was on a trip. With his new family.” Despite the absurdity of this situation, my heart went out to Penny. She’d had such rotten luck in life so far. First her dad then her chicken-shit ex-husband running out on her.

  “I’m so sorry, my dear.” Ellen patted Penny on the shoulder. My mother. Being physically affectionate. Aside from a few air kisses, I don’t think she’d touched me in years. Had she wanted to and I’d kept her at arm’s length? That sounded like something I’d do. “Was it in a church?”

  “Yeah. A super small one. Not even an organ, just a piano.”

  “Oh, you poor dear. I bet you looked beautiful in your dress. You’ve got such fair skin. You deserved a wedding in the finest of churches with a full pipe organ.”

  Penny smiled at my mother. “Actually, I always thought it would be nice to have a wedding outdoors. In a garden somewhere.”

  Ellen’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes, on a glorious summer day. That would be lovely. I’m on the board of the botanic gardens, and there are weddings there all summer long.”

  To my horror, Penny was warming to the theme. How on earth could two women so different be gushing over weddings? The X-chromosome was a complete and total mystery to me.

  “… and instead of cut flowers that would die, there would be flower beds all over. And maybe a fountain. I love the sound of running water.”

  “And a string quartet,” Ellen suggested.

  “And all the women would wear sundresses.”

  “Oh, that sounds beautiful, my dear.”

  Christ, maybe those two should get married.

  Penny smiled and then I dutifully looked away as she shifted Zoe to the other side. As I poured myself more scotch, I wondered how the hell this day had gone off the rails so completely. There was only one way to get it back on track, and that was to tell my mother the truth.

  But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I’d let my mother down when she needed me the most, and I just couldn’t crush her again, not when she seemed so happy.

  I’m not sure if it made me less of a bastard or more of one, but I just couldn’t do it.

  In the car again, Penny was silent as I exited my mother’s neighborhood. I was too, but I knew it couldn’t last.

  Finally, she spoke. “You should have—“

  “I know.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  I thought about it as I drove. It was getting darker, and I was extra vigilant, very much aware of the tiny little life in the back seat. “She wasn’t the greatest mother, but then again, I wasn’t the greatest son. I let her down when she needed me most, and we’ve never gotten past that. Today when she saw Zoe and thought she was mine—it made her so happy. I’ve never seen her that happy. Not even close. I know it’s selfish, but I didn’t want to destroy that.”

  I put my blinker on and made a right turn. I was taking the backroads to Penny’s place. We definitely needed to talk. “She wasn’t even mad.”

  “About what?” Penny asked.

  “About how I supposedly have a six-month-old baby and didn’t tell her.”

  “Oh. She wasn’t mad about me, either.”

  “Why would she be mad at you?”

  “That I had a baby and wasn’t married. I get looks from older people sometimes. women especially. Your mom wasn’t like that.”

  Mom. I thought about that word for a minute. Had I ever called Ellen that? It was always mother or her first name. Penny was a mom. Ellen was a mother. But maybe being a grandma was halfway in between.

  “The thing is, I don’t know… but maybe this is kind of a fresh start. A way to let go of some of the old guilt. On both sides. Aren’t babies supposed to represent a new beginning?” Or was that just the New Year’s baby? This was new territory for me.

  “But it’s not real. Even if you two do become closer, won’t you just lose that again when she finds out the truth?”

  Penny was right, but it didn’t matter. “This is the only things I’ve ever done for her that makes her happy. She needs this, especially after—“

  “What?” Penny demanded, twisting around in her seat. “You said that she was distant when you were a child. That sounds like reason enough to have a difficult relationship for her. Why do you insist that this is your fault?”

  “Because it is.” Frustrated, I pulled over, parking between streetlights, tree branches overhead. “I chose my dad. Neither one of them were good parents when I was young, but I gave my father another shot. I didn’t give her one. And it nearly cost her everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  R
ealizing I was clenching the steering wheel tightly enough to snap it in two, I eased back. Could I tell her this? I’d never told anyone, not even Ryan.

  Beside me, I could sense Penny waiting, but giving me space.

  “It happened when I was eleven.” A sigh followed my words. Could that actually be relief I was feeling? Maybe I needed to share this with someone more than I knew. If only Penny wouldn’t hate me for it afterward.

  “I said my mother was distant, but it wasn’t just that. She also drank. Quite a bit, actually. That wasn’t all that uncommon among high society wives, but eventually, my mother developed a real problem. Years later, I realized how hard it must have been for her. She came from a middle-class family, and got married when she was nineteen. She must have been bowled over by my father’s force of will. It’s not difficult to imagine her losing herself to the role she was supposed to play. Going along with his wishes. Doing the dutiful wife thing while he hired nannies to take care of me.”

  Penny reached over and squeezed my hand.

  “I didn’t understand that at the time, but I have a buddy, Nico, and his wife is going through something similar. He’s a minor celebrity over in Europe, and the pressure she faces, from the press, from society expectations… She’s got Nico to support her, but my father never supported my mother. I was just a kid, though. I never thought about that kind of thing.”

  “Of course you didn’t.”

  “One morning, my mother came into my room. She had this strange look in her eyes. Like she’d had a realization. She spoke quickly, her words running together. She said we were going on a trip. Just her and me for a week, a month. However long it took, she said. She told me to pack a bag and we’d leave right away.”

  I paused, thinking about the way her hands had been jittery. At the weird light in her eyes. She’d wanted that more than anything. Why the hell hadn’t I just said okay and packed a suitcase? But I hadn’t.