Fantasy: A Modern Romance Inspired by Cinderella (Seductively Ever After)

by Kim Carmichael

  The only person on the planet who knew his favorite dinner was his best friend’s wife.

  “Are you ready to make some music?” Erik asked.

  This conversation again. Yes, he played. He played all the time, but by himself, when it didn’t feel like people were missing, and he could close his eyes and be complete. Erik had Christine, his other half, someone to fill in the blanks.

  “I was thinking of going to see Upton,” he said. After the accident as reclusive as Erik became, the two of them stayed together, supported each other. Upton, their drummer, wouldn’t ever speak to them. Over the years, Nash had gone to his family estate to see him. The man would bark at him to get away, and would never let himself be seen.

  “I think he made his position known.” Erik took a sip of the beer. “Look forward. Christine’s voice healed me.”

  Healing could come in different forms. Since he met Petals, he felt invigorated, but it was a temporary fix, not a cure. “She didn’t see me with the cane.”

  “It’s amazing when they don’t see it.” Erik faced him. “Maybe you don’t need it as much as you think.”

  Nash clenched his teeth. Of anyone, Erik should understand. “Leave it.” Yes, he could walk without the cane as long as he didn’t mind feeling as if he were going to fall over, or having a limp bad enough that everyone on the street stopped and stared. The cane provided stability on a number of different levels.

  “Anyway, now tell me, when she left what did you say to this lovely lady of the lake?” Erik asked.

  Nash stared up at the ornate ceiling of the theatre. Only a few weeks ago, he helped Erik hoist the intricate crystal chandelier. The enormous lighting fixture completed the theatre. He bet Petals would have liked the jewels. Every detail about her spoke of class and refinement. “I told her she would know where to find me.” He shook his head. “It was only a few minutes, but I felt alive for the first time in a long time. Like I was participating in my life, not watching it fly by.”

  “I understand more than you know.” Erik tapped their bottles together. “Are you going to go stalk the lake until she returns?”

  “No.” He answered too fast, but he had to face facts. “I won’t see her again. There’s no point. Maybe if I was the rock star, but not like this.”

  “You’re still the rock star.” Erik lowered his voice.

  Nash stood and grabbed his cane. “Not anymore.”

  Chapter Six

  No cell site was one thing. A brief respite from technology. A break. A tiny stand against her father, even if he didn’t know she made one. Yes, driving to a Windsome property away from any contact was an amazing idea, brilliant if she said so herself. However, allowing her phone to run out of battery and having no charger was a whole other situation.

  After leaving her knight in leather and jeans, she did what any girl would do in her situation. First, she checked her lipstick and her hair, then she frowned at her chipped and filed nail, and lastly she started the car to drive back into the land of the living. Slowly, she watched the bars reappear on her phone and the battery life dwindle. Right as she pulled over, her phone petered out.

  Before the screen went black, her phone gave her one final ding, actually a series of dings, times and tones, letting her know she had missed calls, texts and emails.

  Her stomach tight, she kept her hands at ten and two and sped down the freeway toward the corporate headquarters of Windsome Holdings. Her father said to meet there at seven sharp and if she hurried, she could get there early, have Belinda help her with her hair and makeup, slip into her dress and be ready to be put on the auction block before her dear daddy was any the wiser that she defied him.

  If she wanted to prove she could go this alone and didn’t need a husband to carry on the family business, she needed to be reliable. She could play her role while behind the scenes, she needed to accomplish something to impress her father enough to call off this archaic practice of marrying her off. She would plan something else grand for their Anniversary Ball.

  She turned up the pop music her father despised and wondered what Knight would say if she told him of her father’s plan.

  At her thought, she shook her head. In all truth, she wasn’t even sure if the gorgeous longhaired man even existed or she just hallucinated him like an imaginary friend when she needed someone the most. Well, if nothing else, she conjured a true female fantasy, the bad boy with the heart of gold. A man who called her Petals and kissed the back of her hand like a true gentleman. Her cheeks heated. Did she go back and see if he was real or did she allow herself the most amazing memory? Real or not, the experience was worth it.

  She took her exit and without even thinking, reached for her phone to remind Belinda to be ready for her. Damn! Yes, her phone was dead, like she would be if she messed up this evening.

  Finally, after enduring driving while cut off from the rest of society, she pulled into underground parking of her building and waved to the valet.

  The valet bowed and opened her door. “Miss Windsome.”

  “No, no, no, no!” Belinda and her other two assistants came running out.

  “What?” Ryane put her hand to her chest and got out of the car. “I have to get up to the office, Daddy is waiting for me.”

  “No!” Belinda pushed her back into the car. “We’ve been trying to reach you for hours. Plans changed and you need to meet your father at The Crown and you’re already late.”

  “Late?” As if someone socked her in the stomach, she doubled over. In her father’s world she could get away with a lot including no cell site, talking about pink file folders, and even that one time she walked out in the middle of a business meeting because one of her favorite stores delivered her a new handbag. However, one thing her father would not tolerate was tardiness. A waste of time was worse than a waste of money. “I need to change.” Her whole body trembled.

  “You have no time, I’ll drive you.” Belinda guided her around to the passenger side of the car.

  Somehow, she managed to get inside the car. Not wanting to face what lay ahead, she remained hunched over and stared down at her shoes. Her walk in the wilderness left her with more than an imaginary friend, it also left her with a pair of stained shoes, a detail her father would notice, along with her nail and lack of a cocktail dress.

  All too soon, but not soon enough, Belinda guided the car to the front of the restaurant. “Here we are.” Her assistant’s singsong voice provided a complete contrast to the mood.

  “I’m just supposed to walk in there?” Ryane lifted her head. The Crown made high-end dining look like fast food. A strange nausea took over her. “I don’t feel well.”

  “Your father wanted to meet you for a drink before Mr. Allen arrived, but now you’re late. It’s up to you.” Belinda’s tone rang out a warning.

  Without a doubt, she couldn’t keep her father waiting a moment more.

  One of the valets came over and opened the door for her.

  “You know, I was working.” With the words that left her mouth, a newfound confidence consumed her. She was working. Yes. She was at work. Her head held high, she grabbed her bag and her file folder about the Los Padres property and marched into the restaurant.

  All her life she made it a point to fit in, so if she stood out, it was because she ensured she was the belle of the ball. However, walking through one of the best restaurants in Los Angeles in a dirty business suit with scuffed shoes and holding an oversized bag, she had no doubt a spotlight highlighted each one of her flaws. Normally, men bowed at her feet, women stared at her with jealous eyes, but if anyone in the crowded reception area even bothered looking her way it was only because it didn’t appear as if she belonged here.

  No sooner did she make it up to the reception desk than her father approached.

  “Ryane Windsome.” His deep voice boomed through her.

  “Hello, Daddy.” At the sight of him in a black suit and tie, martini in hand, she winced. “I’m here.” She couldn�
�t even fake a smile.

  Her father’s gaze traveled over her, and he only needed to slightly tilt his head to cause her to move to one side, near a huge potted plant.

  “Where have you been?” He jutted his jaw out.

  It was her chance. Though her hands shook, she held up the file folder. “Daddy, I was working. I went here, but there was no cell site.”

  “And on the entire ride home, somehow you were the only person on the freeway who lacked any connection to the outside world?” With his harsh tone, she wasn’t sure if she should answer him or not. “What are you doing? What are you wearing? I specifically told you cocktail attire.”

  Most likely, telling him that along with no cell site she let her phone battery run dry, would not bode well in her quest not to be paired up with some man her father chose. The look in his eyes said it all. She spent her life trying to be the apple of his eye, and she wouldn’t fail him now. Part of her wanted to tell him that he expected too much and moved too fast. The other part knew he wouldn’t listen. “I discovered something at the Los Padres property.” Now she could tell him about the gate being unlocked and how some man was on their land.

  “And what exactly did you discover?” Her father narrowed his eyes.

  Wait. Before answering, she stopped. If she told her father about the gate they would lock it, and then how would she ever meet Knight again? Not that she could meet Knight. Still, she couldn’t close the possibility.

  “What did you discover?” her father prodded.

  “I know what I discovered, a magnificent woman.” A man in a nearly identical suit to her father’s came over. Martini in one hand, glass of champagne in the other, he bowed and held the bubbling drink out to her. “Please tell me this is your daughter, Lance.”

  Ryane stared at this man. Neat brown hair combed back away from his freshly shaved face, a smile fit for any dental floss ad, and wearing a tailored suit complete with requisite jeweled cufflinks, the man presented her with the stock photo of the type her father felt she should marry. What would happen if she showed up somewhere with Knight? Dark and dangerous, but with a sweet set of dimples, he definitely would be out of place here.

  “In fact, Patrick, you are correct. You have found my lovely daughter, fresh from being out looking at one of our properties.” Her father glanced between them and took a breath. “Ryane, this is Patrick Allen, the man I wanted you to meet. Patrick, this is Ryane.”

  She already disappointed her father, she couldn’t embarrass him as well so she took the drink. “Patrick, it is a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard only good things.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father beam. She held out her hand. “I do say I must apologize for my appearance, I was working and lost track of the time.”

  “I think you are just right.” He took her hand, but rather than shake it, he kissed the back. “I think this is a perfect time for an introduction.”

  For the second time today, someone kissed her hand. Unfortunately, this gesture didn’t create the same amazing shivers as the first one. Suddenly, her entire life flashed before her eyes. All she had to do was give in, and he would woo her, buy her tokens, be the ever attentive boyfriend, fiancé then husband until they would go live a stock photo life.

  “It seems as if you went hiking in heels.” He pointed down at her shoes. “I am charmed by a woman who is not afraid of a little walk in nature. Perhaps you and I can take a little day trip in the near future. I’ll make a note of it.”

  “Ryane would love that.” her father answered.

  She continued to smile, but stared at what her life had become. If she let this continue, one day this man, Patrick Allen, would be standing here with their daughter wanting to marry her off, keep the money in the family, make sure their proverbial blue blood kept its color. What if she wanted a man with a skull ring, a leather cuff and boots with buckles up the sides?

  “I think it’s time for a toast.” Patrick raised his glass. “To new beginnings and to a woman who isn’t a carbon copy of everyone else in the room.”

  At the toast, her father put his arm around her. The sparkle, the way he smiled, his firm grasp. In an instant, she was back in her safe place in his good graces. “I will definitely drink to that.”

  They all tapped their glasses together. Though she longed to gulp the drink down, Ryane took a polite sip, letting the bubbles tickle her taste buds. The man must have ordered the most expensive champagne in the restaurant—she could practically feel the dollar signs rolling down her throat. This was meant to be her life, not the man by the lake. He would probably be happy with a beer. She swallowed back a sigh, a beer sounded amazing.

  “So, Princess, tell Patrick and me what you discovered today at the Los Padres property.” Her father’s tone completely changed. He was back to her doting dad.

  She paused and took another sip of the champagne. Today at the Los Padres property she discovered an amazing man, one who called her Petals, and one who understood her. Even during the brief time they spent together, something told her he really heard her when she spoke, and if she wanted a beer, he would kick back on a rock with her and share his. While she sat there, she also found out she could live without a cell phone and without a perfect manicure, and she could show up at a dinner and not have a designer cocktail dress on and not die.

  Today, at the Los Padres property she discovered an unlocked gate. “I was looking at ways to preserve the property. The lake is lovely. I don’t want us pressured to develop it.”

  “Well, we need to look at the profit and loss.” Her father nodded. “Why don’t we go take our table?”

  She let her father and Patrick guide her through the restaurant. Yes, this was her life, not Knight, but even if she could never go back, she needed to leave the gate open.

  Chapter Seven

  Nash plugged in his amplifier, hooked his guitar strap around his neck and closed his eyes. He counted off a beat and began to play.

  His fingers traveled over the strings, the notes of his most famous guitar solo from the Spectre World Tour filled the cottage, rattled the windows and vibrated through every floorboard, but in his mind he was back in France, Germany or even Los Angeles, in a filled stadium full of fans clapping along to the rifts that made him famous.

  He lost himself. The music took him away to another time, another place. Things were simple when all he had to do was get up on stage and play. Permanent summertime.

  With music, nothing mattered. Not the cottage, not his leg, not the fact he hadn’t seen Petals in four days.

  He hit a flat note, stopped and opened his eyes.

  Why was he even thinking about a nameless girl he'd met only once?

  It was a question he asked himself every time he walked over to the lake, sometimes multiple times a day for fear he would miss her.

  After yesterday, when again she proved to be a no show, he decided to stop. He was merely looking for a distraction and being kept away from his goal.

  He sighed and glanced around the cottage. Somehow, even with all his treks back and forth to find a girl who didn’t exist or who was only paying him lip service by promising she would return, he managed to get the place cleaned up enough to assess what needed to be repaired. Everything needed to be redone, the floors, the paint, the ceiling.

  This was what happened when something was left to rot, a person, a home, anything. It fell apart and it would take a miracle to bring it back together again.

  Time didn’t heal—it ravaged everything in its path.

  As he set his guitar aside, his cell phone chimed and he slipped the hated device out of his pocket.

  Dear Nashville, I need you. I have bills to pay, checkbooks that need to be balanced, and investments that need to be gone through. Where are you? Stop wasting time on that hovel and use the good financial sense you somehow acquired. You need to make it better. Your Mother.

  There were too many things wrong with her text. First, the fact she composed every text like a letter, seco
nd, she wouldn’t leave him alone, and third, she called herself his mother. He slammed the phone down on the table. Somewhere along the way, he went from guitarist to everyone’s personal financial manager.

  Petals had it right when she escaped to the land free of cellular reception. Only a few acres away lay freedom.

  He could message back, he could go there and fix the situation, or he could go to the home improvement store and begin stocking up. Only the last option appealed to him. He checked for his wallet and keys, slid his phone back in his pocket, and grabbed his cane.

  Once outside, he took a breath. He didn’t message the monster, didn’t call, didn’t even get in his car. In fact, he left his list inside. Without even thinking, he started toward the lake. He swore he was wearing a path, and by the time he snuck through the back gate, he vowed he wasn’t looking for Petals, only going to take in the view over the water before he got to work.

  He pushed his way through some overgrown brush leading to the clearing by the lake and stopped.

  There she sat on the rock.

  His breath caught at the sight of his angel. She returned. She was here. Or the more likely explanation was he was losing his mind. Her back to him, she sat with her head in her hands, her body shaking as if she were crying.

  He tossed his cane aside, letting it become hidden among the fallen leaves, and stepped forward, bracing his hand on the tree for extra support. “Petals?”

  She turned and faced him. “Knight?” Sure enough, her face was wet, her nose red from crying.

  “Why the tears?” His heart sped as he approached their rock. The uneven terrain hid his limp and he somehow managed to take his seat next to her without falling on his face.

  She grabbed his hand. “You said you would be here if I needed you, and I came, but you weren’t here.”

  Her words provided more music to his ears than his guitar playing. “You need me?” No doubt she planned her visit. Today, she wore curve hugging jeans and a long sleeved pink V-neck shirt giving him a little peek at her copious cleavage and stylish boots that were supposedly made for hiking, but something told him the little gorgeous one didn’t do many outdoorsy things.