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

by Kim Carmichael

  “Yes.” He gazed down into her eyes. “You are upset over that land deal. I don’t want you to worry about that. The rest of the night will be magic and we will go to plan B tomorrow.”

  Land deal? She had clean forgotten about the land deal.

  “Ryane!” Her name was called in stereo.

  Both she and Patrick turned and she gasped when she saw the twins from her father’s dating event coming toward her.

  “We haven’t seen you in a while,” the first one said.

  The other one stepped closer, too close, causing her to take a position slightly behind Patrick.

  “While we’re sad you didn’t take us up on our offer, we do have something for you.” The second one opened his coat.

  “Oh no.” Whatever was under his lapels, she didn’t want to see. She closed her eyes.

  “Mother wanted us to personally deliver the papers to you on the sale of the Los Padres property.”

  She opened her eyes to find the one twin holding out an envelope. “You own the property?”

  “We do with my no-good stepbrother. Have you received his papers yet?” the first twin asked.

  “Not that I know of.” All she knew about the deal, once she handed it over to acquisitions, was that two parties had to sign. “The papers could have been delivered to the office.”

  “Well, it’s about time he did something right.” He shoved the envelope into her hand. “Now that we play in your league, how about we get rid of your friend and have a little celebratory drink?”

  Off to one side, Bernadette waived at her and held up first two fingers, then three fingers and lastly seven fingers giving her the time.

  “Ryane is busy at the moment, so why don’t I take those, and take you two fine gentlemen over to the bar for a bottle of our best champagne.” Patrick plucked the papers away and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I will return at midnight for you.”

  The moment Patrick and company walked away, she darted toward the staircase. Whatever big event was happening at midnight would have to happen without her. She needed to spend those few minutes alone, drying her tears.

  Knowing she wouldn’t be able to wait until midnight, she shoved her glass in the direction of a waiter, went to run up the staircase when she stopped, and tripped on her own two feet. “Knight.” She braced herself on the railing. He was here. Right here, and he was gorgeous.

  With the most magnificent glass walking stick, and dressed like a handsome prince come to life in an embroidered tuxedo with tails, he made his way down the stairs.

  Mesmerized, she put her hand to her chest in a vane attempt to calm her heart and held her breath, until at last, he reached her.

  He joined her, stared into her eyes then took her hand and brought it to his lips.

  Her entire body tingled. Her Knight, the man she loved, swooped in like the name she gave him, and was here to rescue her.

  Without speaking, he bowed to her, and as if he already knew her fantasy, he took her to the center of the dance floor. She took his walking stick and handed it to the first person that walked by.

  The music changed to one of those rock ballads, slow yet edgy, one that seemed suited to perfection for them, and the moment he took her in his arms, she knew she found her place in the universe. In order to make sure he was real, she pressed her palm to his face. “You’re here.”

  “Where else would I be?” He held her tighter, pressed their bodies together. “The only place I can be is with you.”

  “This was all I wanted.” She curled her arms around his neck.

  They danced, swaying in time to the music, staring into each other’s eyes. The guests cleared the dance floor, stood along the edges, and allowed them to have the space all to themselves.

  Everything disappeared into a delightful blur as Knight swayed her, a surreal magical moment like when one was in a beautiful dream.

  The song continued and he dipped her back. The audience clapped.

  “Seems as if they like the music.” He winked at her.

  “Whatever they’re playing it fits us.” All she knew was she never wanted to let go of the man. With them here together, she had her life, she would explain everything to her father and Patrick, and she and Knight could be together.

  “More than you know.” A low chuckle left his throat.

  As the music ended, he lifted her to more applause. Face to face with nothing between them. Before they were no longer Knight and Petals, she went to kiss him.

  “All night I have been waiting for what my daughter would do to make this night spectacular.” Her father came over and held his hand out to Knight. “Not in one million years did I think you would be her entertainment. I have to say I’m a fan.”

  Her father was a fan? A fan of Knight? Her chest tightened and she held him tighter. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Sir.” Knight shook her father’s hand.

  The crowd that had stayed a safe distance away gathered around.

  “Call me Robert, Robert Windsome.” With much gusto, he shook Knight’s hand. “Ryane really outdid herself. Is the rest of the band going to come?”

  “Windsome?” Knight spat out her last name as if it were an accusation and turned to her.

  “What band?” She searched his eyes for answers.

  “What band?” Her father let out a round of laughter the likes of which she had never heard. “Did you just ask what band like you don’t know who this man is? You were dancing to his music.”

  Rather than the welcomed heat that always accompanied her any time her Knight was around, a sick and sudden chill took over her. “Who are you?”

  “Mr. Cinder.” Belinda tiptoed up to them with her other two assistants in tow and held out a paper and pen. “I was hoping we could have your autograph.”

  “Your name is Cinder?” Somewhere that name twanged with a bit of familiarity.

  “Nash Cinder.” He let go of her and signed his name. “Lead guitarist for Spectre.”

  Spectre. Spectre. She knew that band. Sort of. They were famous, really famous until a horrible accident hurt their lead singer, killed one of them. She shook her head, trying to place this Nash.

  “It’s eleven fifty-two.” Bobbie tapped her.

  “As amazing as this is, Ryane, Patrick has a presentation in eight minutes and then Nash can play his song.” Her father put his arm around her.

  “Are you counting down the minutes until you take over my land?” Knight or Nash, or whoever he was, glared at her.

  She put her hand over her mouth. “What?”

  “It’s my land your multi-billion dollar conglomerate wants to buy, Ryane.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “But something told me you knew that already. Perhaps it wasn’t magic after all.”

  His words hit her, actually threatened to knock her down. “No, it wasn’t magic, it was all an illusion.” Unable to stand there one more second, she ran out. In the same amount of time it took for her world to be perfect, it shattered around her, leaving her with a man who wanted nothing more than to make her look bad, and no doubt played all his sultry tricks only to get her to up the price on his parcel. Everything in her life was fake.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The problem with any success was it was always fleeting. For a brief few years Nash was the lead guitarist of Spectre and every trapping that went with the lifestyle of a rock god was his.

  Then he fell in love. The high was greater than standing on stage in front of thousands of fans. When he showed up here and found his Petals, correction, Ryane Windsome waiting for him, his heart was full, complete, and for a second he thought they would go live their happily ever after.

  Now, as he watched the woman of his dreams run out of the party, he knew never to wish for any of those spectacular successes ever again. Stages exploded leaving him forever maimed, parents died leaving unfinished business, and women snuck around and pretended they didn’t know him all for a piece of land that was ruining their monopoly.
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br />   “I don’t know what made her run off like that.” Mr. Windsome patted his shoulder. “I think she’s nervous. This is her engagement party.”

  Of course things could always get worse.

  Nash froze. He swore his heart stopped and every muscle in his body tensed and it took all his strength for his knee not to give out. If there were any hope, any truth to the fact they met purely by fate, that they needed each other, it was doused with this man’s words and the timing of Ryane’s invitation. Apparently, disappearing wasn’t enough, she had to make sure he saw she went off to greener pastures.

  The music stopped and some man dressed in a conventional tuxedo stepped up to the microphone. “Everyone, I would like to extend my congratulations to the Windsome Family at celebrating eighty-five years in business. Now the waiters will be passing around champagne and we will get ready for a very important announcement right at the stroke of midnight.”

  Midnight.

  That was his cue to get out of here.

  “That’s my future son-in-law.” Mr. Windsome motioned toward the stage. “I can hardly wait to hear what you have planned afterwards.”

  What he had planned was leaving, and starting a new life without women, without wanting, without baggage. Starting with getting rid of the past. Anything he held on to was only chains around his neck suffocating him. “Actually, I’m not here as entertainment. I’m here to give you this.” He reached into the breast pocket of his tuxedo and pulled out the papers on the land. If nothing else he would give Petals what she wanted, since he would never be able to set foot there again.

  “Will Ryane Windsome please come to the stage?” Her fiancé’s voice boomed through the ballroom. The man was exactly the type Petals should end up with. What on earth had he been thinking?

  From across the ballroom, he saw Ryane appear. A drumroll started and a spotlight hit her, causing her to shield her eyes. There would never be a more beautiful woman in the world. While he could stand there and gaze upon her all day, in no way would he be witness to her engagement.

  Needing to take action, he snatched the pen away from the woman he gave the autograph to, tore the papers out of envelope, and signed in the designated spots. “Here you go, the land is yours.” He crumpled the pages and shoved them in Mr. Windsome’s hand.

  “What?” The man looked down at the mess.

  “It’s yours. Tell your daughter it’s from Knight.” All along she knew who he was. It never made any sense she didn’t recognize him eventually, especially after he played her song for her. All she wanted was her property. The woman should have been an actress, not a business mogul. In search of his cane, he scanned the area. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two identical blonds. He knew all too well whom they belonged too. No time to question why his stepbrothers were here. This whole thing was nothing more than one big joke on him.

  A waiter offered him a glass of champagne. Mr. Windsome and those gathered around him inched closer to the action.

  It was his chance, cane or not, and he turned and limped out. Not wanting to chance the stairs and an expert in making a getaway after his years with Spectre, he focused on the door the catering staff used.

  Finally, he made it to the door, turning back to see Ryane was now up on stage.

  With a shake of his head, he slipped into the back.

  The one thing his last bit of celebrity shine afforded him was the ability to walk through spaces the general public would never be allowed.

  He weaved through the back hallways of the hotel nodding and smiling at the different employees. His mind was cluttered with thoughts of Petals, Ryane, his stepmother and the twins, and the fact he just gave up his property, the last tie he had to his past. Somehow, when he pictured selling it, he pictured going off to live a life with his ladylove.

  No, he had absolutely no direction, except for the fact he absolutely had to get out of this hotel.

  Sheer luck and following the exit signs finally led him back into the lobby.

  Desperate for fresh air, he rushed outside to search for Erik and Christine, only to find out that in the middle of spring Los Angeles was having a torrential downpour.

  Erik’s car was nowhere.

  “Taxi?” a uniformed valet called to him.

  He shook his head then slipped his phone out of his pocket and read a text message from Erik.

  Christine has gone into labor, had to leave, will call later.

  A lone laugh left him. He only received the message ten minutes ago. If he would have left sooner, he could have gone with them. In all truth, he should have never come here in the first place.

  He stepped out into the rain and glanced up at the night sky. Clouds covered the stars, no moon in sight. For the first time in his life, he was completely alone. No ties, nothing holding him down. Soon he would have money, especially since the documents from the Windsome had a fast escrow.

  Yes, he was alone and it was time he learned to walk on his own.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Will Ryane Windsome please come to the stage?” Patrick’s voice echoed through the ballroom and into the little back hallway Ryane managed find after the complete disaster with Knight.

  Where was Knight? Wasn’t he supposed to be running after her, following her, telling her how much he loved her, and he was sorry for doubting her?

  The door opened in her hidden space and a slice of light cut through the darkness.

  “Knight. She gasped and her heart seized. No he would never let her walk away, and end it. He only needed to collect his thoughts.

  “It’s Bobbie.” Her assistant tiptoed inside. “It’s eleven fifty-nine.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She shook her head. No Knight, only Bobbie with a reminder of her failures.

  Their last words said it all. There was no more magic. An illusion. Her whole life was nothing but a big façade. On the outside, she had everything and in the course of the last three minutes she was nothing but an empty shell, one of her own making.

  Never in one million years would she have guessed that her Knight was part of the band Spectre. She didn’t know why she didn’t see it. When she looked at him, she only saw the man she fell in love with, not some rock star. How many people could pick out all the members of a band that last toured a decade ago? Apparently, she was the only one.

  Never in two million years would she have guessed that her Knight was the owner of the little cottage. All the time they spent in that clearing and never once did he think to take her inside, even when she told him she wanted him to make love to her in a bed.

  Her stomach twisted.

  He accused her of knowing who he was and even using that knowledge to her advantage. Little did he know she was nothing at Windsome Holdings. The spoiled daughter of a businessman. An empty suit.

  What did he think she was doing on the property anyway? Apparently, he didn’t have any inkling as to her last name.

  She would choose to remember them as two lost souls who found each other in a time of need, but she could never be with him if he doubted her the first chance he got.

  “Miss Windsome, everyone is watching and waiting. It’s going to be midnight,” Bobbie whispered. “This is important.”

  “Midnight.” The magic moment now gone.

  “Your father…” she let her voice trail off.

  A shudder ran through Ryane. Everything always barreled down to the company, her father, who was watching. “Get a car ready.” She and Knight weren’t through. She would find him and talk to him, but first she could give him a little demonstration on what it was like to live her life.

  The second she stepped out, a drumroll started and a spotlight hit her. She shielded her eyes and as she moved through the crowd she searched for Knight, but the glare prevented her from seeing anything.

  Two uniformed waiters helped her up on the stage with Patrick. Where was her father? Where was Knight?

  “There you are.” Patrick took her hand.

>   Once more, she glanced out at the audience that had gathered around the stage.

  Well, not everyone.

  Knight was nowhere to be found.

  Tears heated her eyes.

  “Ryane.” Patrick pulled her closer. “On this momentous night commemorating this important anniversary, I have a question to ask you.”

  Did Knight leave? Where did he go? Her heart sped, she had to get off this stage and go find him.

  “Ryane.” Patrick got down on one knee.

  She blinked and took in the scene before her, rewound Patrick’s words, looked down at him in a position a man only took for one reason. “Patrick.”

  “As I said, I have a question to ask you.” He reached into his tuxedo jacket.

  She stared at him. One day this man would want to get married to someone, someone he deserved, and when he got down on his knee a second time and reached into his jacket, she could not have him remembering that at one time he proposed to someone else who turned him down so she did the only thing she could do to help them both and got down on her knees, wincing when she felt a couple of seams on her dress pop. “And my answer is now is not the time for questions.”

  His hand moved away from his tuxedo jacket and squeezed her hand. “No questions?” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I wanted to answer your question.” Something was wrong with her.

  Patrick nodded and helped her stand. “Again, I want thank everyone for helping celebrate Windsome Holdings.”

  Among the muttering of the crowd, he kept hold of her hand and they made their way off the stage, she took the lead and led him to back to the hallway behind the ballroom.

  Before the door shut behind them, her father slammed through the entrance with her three assistants behind him. “Ryane, what is the meaning of this? We are supposed to be celebrating your engagement!”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t let Patrick go through with it. I can’t marry him. It’s not that I don’t want to, its not that he isn’t the most amazing man, but…” She swallowed and put her hand over her eyes.