Marry Your Billionaire: A Modern Cinderella

by C. J. Anaya

  “Darling, I came here specifically to apologize to you for the awful things I said. When I received that anonymous phone call claiming that you were calling and stalking women on your dating service, why, I simply did what I thought was best. After all, my dear friend happened to be one of your victims.”

  “Felicia, you know I would never do something as unethical as breach the trust of my clients.”

  “I know that now, of course. Some people will tell just about any lie they can to get into the spotlight.”

  “And yet, that friend of yours never once came forward with her own statement as to her claim about my abhorrent behavior. You would think someone interested in the spotlight would have taken the tabloids by storm…much like you did.”

  Felicia couldn’t have failed to catch his subtle dig, but she responded with a chagrined smile, almost pouting her lips in a placating way.

  “Can you ever forgive me for impulsively hurling such false accusations against you without verifying whether or not they were true?” Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Her acting skills were quite believable. He wondered how many men had been swindled by her little damsel in distress display.

  He saw exactly what she aimed to accomplish here. If he refused to forgive her it would make him look like an unfeeling monster on national television, but forgiving Felicia gave him no valid reason for avoiding her presence or eliminating her from the show, at least not right away. He would have to come up with something more substantial later. If he was going to play this farce, he might as well do it convincingly.

  “Of course, I forgive you, Felicia. You were merely looking out for your dear friend, and with such pure motives, who could ever fault you for that?”

  She delicately wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes and gave him a grateful smile.

  “How kind. Thank you for being so understanding. I’m happy to be able to put this all behind us and start over again.”

  “That’s a wonderful notion. We’ll begin from the beginning. Where were you born?”

  Felicia gave him a light-hearted chuckle and he joined in. The entire charade caused nausea to wash over him, but he continued to play his part to perfection. He’d never again allow Felicia Davenport to get the best of him.

  Midge sat in a corner of one of the mansion’s libraries, curled up on a love seat with a book propped on her lap. She’d done her fair share of mingling with the girls and felt justified in sneaking off even though a camera still ended up following her to the library, which hadn’t been easy to find. Once it became obvious that she’d be doing nothing more than some light reading, the camera and its wielder quickly left her to her own devices. That never would have flown with any other contestant, but Midge’s status as the director’s daughter gave her some massive leeway.

  “Why am I not surprised to find you hiding out here?”

  Her head shot up at her father’s abrupt appearance. He leaned against the door frame with his arms folded and a deep frown etched on his face.

  “You said I was allowed some freedom, and I don’t see any point in spending time with nineteen other women who are sizing me up and analyzing all of my facial flaws when I could be enjoying some classic literature.”

  “We need some shots of you mingling with the other girls.” He strode into the room and settled himself across from her on a white settee with ornate carvings along the legs.

  “Nice try, Dad. I’ve paid my dues in that department. Just ask Bill.”

  “We also need to film your fifteen minutes with Brody. From your earlier comments on the beach, it sounded like you two already knew each other.”

  He flicked some flint from his pants, behaving as if he wasn’t eager to find out the details. His suspicion made her shoulders tense. If he discovered how explosive her first two run-ins with Brody had been, that would be it for her. He’d do everything he could to keep her on the show and have this “romance” play out. She’d never get away.

  She raised her eyes to his and gave him a nonchalant shrug.

  “I ran into him once a few months ago at Club 23.” Staying close to the truth was the best possible solution.

  “You were at Club 23? Without me?” His wounded expression surprised her.

  “I was on a blind date. My roommate set me up with some scumbag who introduced me to Brody while we were there.”

  Anger flashed across his features.

  “Who?” he growled.

  “Alexander Montgomery.”

  Her father let out a few expletives, surprising her with his vehemence.

  “That guy is a prick, Midge. How could you be stupid enough to get stuck with someone like that?”

  Midge’s anger spiked.

  “I’m pretty sure I mentioned that I was on a blind date. Had I known what I’d be dealing with, the date never would have happened. Give me some credit, here.”

  Her father took a deep breath, puffed his cheeks out, and exhaled.

  “I’m sorry, Midge girl. I just worry about you sometimes.”

  “Um…thank you.”

  Her anger deflated with his unexpected concern.

  “Now then. I want you to work on getting to know, Brody. Really delve into his family and his past. We want to know about rough break-ups, traumatizing childhood experiences, and any other possible sob stories that will garner more sympathy from the audience.”

  Midge nodded her head. “Right. I’m on it.”

  “If you sniff a scandal, push for information on that as well. I’m all about revealing skeletons from the past, and nobody is better at sniffing out smut than you, Midge girl.”

  “Not really a compliment, Dad.”

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Midge said as she seated herself next to Brody. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up at her approach and hoped for a moment that the reaction was genuine and not some play to the cameras. She’d noticed Brody escaping to a wide balcony overlooking the ocean. A set of wicker chairs were strategically placed facing one another with a bottle of champagne seated on a small holder on the side. Getting this fifteen minutes over with had been the sole motivation behind aborting Brody’s attempted escape. She simply couldn’t stand the inane chit chat from the other contestants, her hovering father reading over her shoulder, or the anticipation building at the idea of spending more time with Brody.

  “Hello, Madelyn,” he said.

  “How are you holding up, Mr. Prescott?”

  “Brody. I’d very much like it if you called me Brody.”

  What she wanted to do was get up and run like mad to the nearest sailboat, but she’d promised to follow through with this night while helping Brody avoid the many pitfalls her father had planned for him. She’d rather be pretending that the interest he showed her held a glimmer of sincerity.

  Sigh.

  It was so much easier to relate to people when they were characters in books. Then again, maybe this scenario could be exactly like a good book. Fictitious situations created by an artistic mind. Why not converse with Brody in the way she wished to without worrying about her growing feelings for him or the lack thereof on his part? It was all a fairy tale anyway. She might as well let her guard down and simply be herself.

  “I like the name Brody. Does it hold any special significance for you or your family?”

  Her question appeared to catch him off guard. He took a moment to clear his throat before responding.

  “It’s my father’s name. Well, my full name is Broderick, but my parents shortened it to Brody just after I was born. My dad wanted to name me something else, but mother felt that there could be no higher honor than naming her son after a man as strong, caring, and kind as the man she married.”

  “That’s a wonderful legacy. Are you close to your parents?”

  Brody swallowed hard at her question. Midge felt slightly perplexed at the reticence with which he approached the subject.

  “My father passed away when I was a teenager. Pancreatic cancer. We barely
found out he was ill and then suddenly he was gone.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Midge felt her heart slam into her throat. She instinctively reached for his hand as raw emotion engulfed his features, furious with herself for opening up that can of worms. No wonder he’d approached her questions as if he were approaching a land mine.

  “It’s okay,” he coughed, clearing his throat. “I’m not the only person on this earth to have ever lost a parent. I certainly won’t be the last. But to further answer your question, my mom and I grew very close as a result of my father’s passing. We really had to rely on each other for support and simple survival. She’s an incredible woman, you see.”

  Midge did see. She’d only met Blanche once, but once was all it took to leave an unforgettable impression.

  “How so?” Midge prodded.

  “When my father passed away, my mom took on extra work in order to provide for us. At one point, she was working three jobs, waitressing at nights, cashiering during the days, and walking dogs on the weekends. Seeing her struggle like that just for me, all for me, I knew I had to get my act together and eventually become the kind of man who could take care of her. I didn’t want that life for her. I needed to make something of myself.”

  “So you became an entrepreneur,” Midge stated.

  He nodded and gifted her a small smile. He squeezed the hand she’d offered him and pulled it closer to his chest. Without realizing it she rested her other hand on his knee completely enthralled in the story he told and this more vulnerable side to the powerful CEO.

  “I worked every job imaginable through my teen years and then went to college and studied business. Lots of late nights, sleep deprivation, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I think I managed to make out just fine in the end.”

  Midge smiled at his humble description of himself.

  “Now enough about me. What’s your legacy, Madelyn?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never actually asked my parents why they named me Madelyn, but since they are both involved in show biz in one form or another, I’m assuming their name choice involved some serious wishful thinking on their parts. No doubt, I was expected to become some Hollywood starlet.”

  “Is that something you would have enjoyed?” he asked. He seemed genuinely curious. It looked like they were both playing their parts to perfection, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the whole charade.

  “A professional acting career? Hardly. No, I enjoy being creative in my own way, but that usually involves creating my own stories rather than playing out stories created by others.”

  How ironic that that was exactly what she was currently participating in.

  Brody’s eyes alighted at this. “You’re an author?”

  “An aspiring author,” she corrected. “Currently working on my first manuscript.”

  “Sounds fascinating. I would love to read your book when it’s finished.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep you on speed dial.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  His thumb grazed that sensitive spot along her wrist, and she glanced down, taking note of how close their bodies were positioned. In her periphery she noticed two cameramen and for one brief moment felt saddened by the inevitable conclusion of this evening. Though it was glamour, glitz, and make-believe, she’d enjoyed the small glimpse of Brody, vulnerable and hardworking, getting to see a personality under all of that male bravado.

  “That was great, you two. A really nice ending to this section of the evening’s events,” her father said as he came to tower over the two of them. Though he appeared relaxed, his taught smile said otherwise. Confused at the hint of annoyance she picked up on, Midge released Brody’s hand and stood, giving her dad a crisp smile.

  “I’m impressed, Midge girl, for someone who hates the limelight you sure know how to command all the attention in the room.”

  “Red hair is a natural eye catcher,” she said, downplaying her father’s praise, or was it an accusation? “Anyone with this much frizz is bound to stand out in a crowd.”

  Her father chuckled, finally letting go of whatever had been bothering him.

  “I was going to attribute it to your intellect and the fact that you’re a natural beauty,” Brody said. He stood as well and then pinned her with a dimpled smile.

  “You can cut the charm, Brody,” her father stated in annoyance. “Cameras aren’t rolling at the moment.”

  “Who said they were?” he asked all innocence.

  Midge felt a slow tension coiling within her father, making the sudden silence more than a little uncomfortable.

  She shifted her feet.

  “I suppose I’ll go wait in the other room with the girls while you and Brody discuss the next scene.” Midge hurried out the door before she gave in to the urge to offer Brody a good-bye hug. He was here to save his image and enter into a committed relationship in the process. No matter her own interest where Brody was concerned, it was time for her to go home.

  Next stop: elimination.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Knightly demanded.

  Brody studied the producer, marveling at the sudden change from director to overprotective father. About time, really.

  “I’m not sure what you mean?”

  “Don’t you? You were holding my daughter’s hand. You looked at her as if she was the only woman who would ever matter to you.”

  Brody gave a nonplussed shrug. “Your daughter is extraordinary. Are you really upset with me for noticing that?”

  Corbin Knightly let out a frustrated hiss and then rubbed his temples in a slow circular motion.

  “Of course not. Any man who doesn’t notice Midge is either dead or gay, but I’m not accustomed to seeing her…like that.”

  “Like what?” Brody asked.

  Knightly appeared truly upset over something as simple as a fifteen minute conversation.

  He speared Brody with a piercing look.

  “Like she’s finally found her place in this world.”

  The producer’s quiet revelation made Brody feel as if he’d just been given a sign, a significant nod from the Universe that this path he’d chosen, this woman he pursued was the only thing that mattered. He simply had to continue to work for it, work for her.

  Brody felt the urge to help Knightly understand his interest in his daughter, but at that moment Stacey came rushing in.

  “The crew is all ready to go, Mr. Knightly.”

  The producer turned to her and gave her a slight nod then turned back to Brody.

  “Do you know who you’re going to eliminate?”

  “Yes.”

  Knightly tapped his finger against his bottom lip.

  “Then let’s get to it, shall we?”

  When a man tells a woman he simply isn’t interested in her, the woman is humiliated and the man makes himself out to be a first rate jerk. Fortunately, television has found a way for a man to reject several women at one time without offending America’s social sensibilities.

  Thus the diamond ceremony, an innovative, ritualistic method of offering up a consolation prize—a red rose whose blossoms are encrusted with tiny genuine diamonds—while simultaneously implying that the woman isn’t suitable enough for marriage without having to tell her why. The fact that the woman is found wanting, whether she is, in all actuality, the most incredible individual or not is swept to the side.

  The entire farce made Midge feel as if her soul was dying just a little.

  The first diamond ceremony had all of the women fluttering about, fixing hair, smoothing down invisible wrinkles, and nervously chatting about their fifteen minute conversations with the enigmatic billionaire.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t believe the amazing talk we had,” said a gorgeous brunette seated to Midge’s right. She was the type of person who talked with her hands, flinging them here and there at the end of each sentence as if they were visual exclamation points. She grabbed Midge’s arm and gave it a friendly squeeze. “I mea
n, he is a perfect gentleman. So considerate and thoughtful, asking me questions about myself instead of just talking over me like most men do.”

  It seemed as if hundreds of bodies pressed in around Midge, cutting off her air supply. The temperature in the room had increased by at least ten degrees. Had someone turned the AC off?

  “Oh, I know what you mean,” said another brunette to Midge’s left. “We just talked and talked about my family, my schooling, and everything I was interested in.” She let out a heart-wrenching sigh. “I felt such a strong connection with him. I really think he’s my future husband. I can’t imagine being sent home tonight.”

  Midge felt bile rise up the back of her throat as she listened to other women talk about Brody as if they held some kind of ownership over him. Why hadn’t the ceremony started yet? What was taking so long?

  After a few more excruciating minutes filled with shallow professions of love at first sight, Les and Brody mercifully came striding into the room. Everyone, including Midge, moved into their respective positions to wait out the results of this first humiliating round of eliminations.

  Midge didn’t feel at all sorry for herself since being eliminated was exactly what she had asked for—exactly what she wanted, but two other girls would be sent home tonight, and what if they really had developed feelings for Brody? Being slapped in the face with an actual rejection from a man as desirable as this particular billionaire was, probably wouldn’t go over well with several of the women present.

  Her eyes traveled to the back of Felicia’s blond beehived head. She’d positioned herself in the front row, smack dab in the middle.

  Seriously? With her hair-do rivaling the height of Mount Everest, the cameras weren’t likely to miss the attention hungry wannabe. She hoped Felicia might get the ax tonight right along with her, but if her father’s wishes and desires for ratings took precedence she figured Felicia had earned a place on the show due to her own vicious personality.