And then, poof!, just like that, she’s gone and I’m scrambling out of my costume clothes and into my normal office clothes.
Midnight comes and goes and my step mother isn’t here to make sure that the spreadsheets and invoices were done. This is not like her. She’s always checking in on me.
I start to worry that she knows that I left. I sit down and stare at my father’s draft Will on the computer. The way he has it set out here makes a lot more sense than the version my step mother showed me.
I really didn’t think he would leave me stuck working with my step mother my whole life. Although I did not directly express my feelings about her towards him, I think he knew.
One of the last things he said to me when we were working at the homeless shelter was that he didn’t realize that my step mother was the type to not want to volunteer there, or he might not have married her.
“Maybe it was kind of a rush decision,” he says. “Because after we got married, I assumed she’d come with us but I brought it up to her and she said no way. Said it was grimy and dirty.”
He was shaking his head as he told me.
“It just really offended me and I’m sorry… I’m sorry if my choice wasn’t the best.”
He didn’t say it but I sensed that he meant for me as well as for him, as our little family had changed drastically. My step mother and step sisters went out of their way to be fake nice to me around my dad but treated me awfully when he wasn’t around.
But he must’ve somehow picked up on the tension and felt bad about it. I think my trying to get along with them is my way to ease my guilt for knowing that my father had guilt due to me. It’s a complicated situation but if this Will is right then there might be a way out of it finally.
Suddenly the door thunders open and I quickly hit X on the document that’s on the computer.
“Hi there,” I say to my step mother, trying my best to look innocent. I’m so glad there are so many boxes around so I could easily stash my fancy clothes in one of them; she’d never be able to find it with all the mess in here.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I freeze. I don’t know if she caught me looking at the Will or if she knows where I went. I’m afraid to answer any question in case I’m assuming that she asked a different one and unwittingly give myself up.
“Nothing,” I tell her, going with the safest and most vague answer. “Just waiting to show you that I sent the invoices.”
I open up the program that shows they were sent. “And these are the spreadsheets,” I tell her, showing her the tabulated columns that the assistant had put together. My aunt had assuredly sworn her to secrecy so that it looks like I did it all.
“Strange,” my step mother says, sitting down on a chair in the corner and staring at me.
Oh great. She knows something was up.
“You know, Sheila and Gloria went to the ball tonight and they said that it was a clusterfuck of royal proportions,” she says.
“Really?” I ask her, trying my best to look interested. “What happened?”
“The prince was observed having a fight with the Princess and then nobody could find either of them,” my step mother says. “I think all those partygoers mooching off all the alcohol were too drunk to notice or care but because Sheila and Gloria are caring, kind people they decided to search for the Prince.”
How very altruistic of them, I think sarcastically
“They saw him grabbing the arm of and trying to talk to a girl who they say was dressed like some kind of Gothic Cinderella,” she says. “They say this girl is someone they haven’t seen around and they think it’s very suspicious. They don’t know who she is.”
“Oh,” I say, hoping that’s all there is to it. So they don’t know who the girl is. They can wonder all they want but if they don’t have hard proof then I’m not in trouble.
“I just think it’s very disgraceful if the prince was talking to a girl other than his fiancée, don’t you think?” my step mother asks me. “Even if they did have a fight.”
I shrug, feigning disinterest now instead of interest. I just want her to stop talking and leave me alone. I don’t want her to ruin this for me, like she ruins everything.
“I don’t really know,” I tell her. “I’m tired from working on all of this office stuff. I just need to get back home and get to bed. I’ve had a long day.”
She has no idea how long it actually was, or at least, I hope she doesn’t. But she clearly suspects.
“Well let’s just say that if somebody were with this prince while he was engaged that would be a big scandal. I hope it wouldn’t interfere with his wedding plans tomorrow,” she says.
“I sure hope not either,” I agree.
“Well, that’s that then.” She pats her leg, as if that settles things. “I’m going to need you to clean out the house all day tomorrow.”
She says it with a smug smile on her face. “It’s very dirty.”
“Clean up the–” I gasp, unable to believe my ears. You can’t make me do that,” I say, forgetting my vow to myself to try to get along with her. “That has nothing to do with this business that we’re supposed to be running together…”
“It does have a lot to do with the fact that you’re staying in my home for free,” she says.
“Your home!” I explode. “I’m the one who lived there first…”
“And I’m the one who pays the mortgage and you’re a grown adult now and adults usually leave their parents’ home…”
This is laughable, since my step sisters are older than me, but I ignore that part of a valid argument.
“You pay the mortgage with Dad’s money,” I say. “It comes out of the estate. It’s both of ours.”
My step mother glares at me. “Do you really want to risk the business over not cleaning the house tomorrow?”
I can’t believe she’s blackmailing me like this. Tomorrow is Saturday. I highly doubt I can get in touch with the lawyer to figure out my rights here.
If she’s right that she can just throw me out and disband the business because I won’t clean the house then there’s no way this is ever going to work out. But I have to do everything I can to make sure to save my dad’s business from her evil grasp. Who knows what she would do with it if I weren’t around.
“Fine,” I say, storming home.
When I get there, I throw myself on the bed, not even remembering anymore at first that this is same place I caught Sheila and Paul having sex. That seems like a lifetime ago. I don’t even care about it anymore.
What I care about is that I agreed to get fake married to the Prince tomorrow and I’m not going to be able to do it. Nor am I able going to be able to ever lose my virginity.
Chapter 12 – Gregory
All preparations have been made for today’s royal wedding— my own. All decorations are up. Everything is fairy tale perfect.
There’s just one problem. The fake princess is not here. It’s two o’clock and I haven’t heard from her all day. I had the shoes custom-made in the sizes she requested. I have the dress hanging up and ready to go. But she isn’t here to wear it.
“I told you that girl was no good,” says my mom, still thinking I’m supposed to be marrying Meredith. “She’s standing you up on your wedding day and making you look so bad.”
“Mom, now is not the time for I told you so’s,” I tell her, frustrated.
Now is the time to find my princess, I think to myself.
My mom may have been right about Meredith. And I’m sure you would say I should learn my lesson by now. But I have a completely different feeling about the girl I was with last night. She’s genuine. The real thing. Something very rare these days in a world of fake glitter and glamour.
There must be something preventing her from coming. Some reason she can’t. Because I know she had wanted to. I know she wouldn’t do this to me on purpose.
She had mentioned having to get back to an important business matter. I
wrack my brain, trying to think if she had said where.
That’s it. She had mentioned an office on Pearl Street. I’m sure I can find it. I just have to hurry.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my mom.
“Where you going?” she screeches.
I suddenly realize that I don’t even know who I’m looking for. I have no idea what her name is and I might not even recognize her. Sure, we had a great time last night and I’m foolishly thinking she might be the love of my life, but she was in costume. A black mask covered her face and cinder ashes were all over her skin, as was white face paint.
Like a flash of genius the thought comes to me. I go and grab the shoes that she was so embarrassed about having me have to order.
At least take the servants, my mom says. Oh please, I think. They’re completely useless.
But then I realize I need them to drive. Denver doesn’t exactly have the best public transportation.
“To Pearl Street,” I order Lionel, the driver. He looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Sir, where on Pearl Street does your Royal Highness wish to go?” he asks me.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m just going to go up and down Pearl Street knocking on doors until I find the person who fits these shoes.”
“That’s crazy,” Deron says, not even bothering to follow up with the Royal Highness crap. But I can’t blame him because for once he’s right. My idea is ridiculous. But it’s the only one I’ve got.
As we start out on our crazy adventure, I asked myself, why am I really doing this? Just to prove my mother wrong? Is it just to save face?
Am I as bad as she is in that I cannot call off the wedding because I care what people think? But as we continue down the street I have to admit to myself the reason that I’m doing this is that I can’t live with myself if I don’t try to see this girl again. I have no idea what the future holds for us but I at least want to give us a chance to find out.
So as soon as we get to Pearl Street I begin my approach to the first house. When an older lady opens the door I ask, “Hello, ma’am, do you have any daughters?” but she looks at me like I’m crazy and slams the door in my face.
I can’t blame her. I’m acting pretty crazy and nobody can trust a random guy showing up on their doorstep anymore.
But I’m determined and so I go to the next house and ask the same thing. Anyone willing to talk to me, I talk to and I ask if any eligible young women will try on the shoe.
I’m not crazy enough to think that people won’t talk. A prince going up and down Pearl Street asking people to try on shoes is insane. I’m hoping it will help my cause. Maybe someone knows where the stranger from last night lives. Maybe somehow word will get to her.
On the other hand, I bet there are plenty of opportunistic young women out there who will pretend to be the princess I’m looking for. I don’t want to be fooled so no matter who she says she is, I’m going to make sure she fits in the shoe.
Part of me is asking, what if you never find her? But I try to focus on the part of me that is reassuring myself that I will find her. And this fancy glass slipper I had made especially for her odd sized foot will be the perfect fit only for her.
Chapter 13 – Ella
I’m trying to be an obedient step daughter, sweeping the dusty floor and keeping my head down as I do it. But I can’t help feeling completely brokenhearted.
And I’m also wondering if somehow something magical will happen to save me from the destiny my step mother is robbing me of. Even if that destiny is just standing in as a fake princess and then losing my virginity to the Prince, it’s what I want, dammit.
As I sweep I can hear my step sisters talking in the kitchen.
“Did you hear the news?” Sheila asks Gloria. “I can’t believe it.”
“No. What are you talking about?” Gloria asks. She’s never as much in the know as Sheila.
“The prince’s bride has run off or something and so he’s trying to find her,” Sheila says. “Or maybe it’s that he’s looking for a new princess. No one really knows for sure.”
I stand straight up, almost unable to believe my ears. Am I dreaming? He’s trying to find me?
“They say he’s going house to house looking for her, on our very street,” Sheila says. “I bet you he will make his way here soon.”
Suddenly I hear my step mother pop into their conversation like she always does, uninvited.
“Girls, I think he’s looking for another girl,” she says. “Not his fiancée. And that’s exactly why I wanted to keep a close eye on Ella today.”
She says it as if I’m not even here.
“Ella?” Sheila says, and as I peer into the kitchen I can see her crinkling up her perfect if not slightly upturned nose. “What would he want with Ella?”
“No one can answer that,” my mom says. “But I’ve heard rumblings. People talk. So, just in case I thought I’d keep a close eye on her.”
“Good thinking, I guess,” says Gloria and shrugs.
They move their conversation into the living room. I can’t hear what they’re saying anymore. But I’m infuriated. How dare my step mother not let me have my own life? I try everything I can to get along with her and she insists on mistreating me. And my step sisters, of course, are no better.
I’m so sick of this. And even more so, I’m determined to fight for what I want. If the prince is looking for me, well, then I’m going to go look for him. But first I have to make sure my dad’s business is okay.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I cry out, although no one’s really paying any attention to me.
My step mother is so lazy she can’t even do a good job at the one thing she said was her goal today— keeping an eye on me. I go into the bathroom and lock the door and take out my phone from my bra.
I had emailed myself a copy of the document on my dad’s computer. I also have his estate attorney’s phone number. I’ve known Bill Spiegel for a long time, but only as Dad’s attorney. I don’t really expect an answer but I feel that I have to try. I can feel my heart quickening in my chest.
To my surprise he picks up right away.
“Ella,” he says, “I was expecting your call.”
“You were?” I ask, confused.
“Why yes your aunt Ashley called me,” he says. “She told me to be expecting your call and to be on standby.”
Before I can say anything else he continues. “…so that I can explain to you that there appears to be some confusion or misunderstanding about your dad’s Will.”
My heart races even faster.
“Really?” I ask, trying not to be too loud.
“Well she says you’re under the impression that you have to always run the business with you stepmother correct?”
“Yes that’s what I thought but then I saw a document that says something different.”
“Well the document you most recently saw is probably correct,” the attorney says. “As you know, I closely advised your dad for many years and I don’t mean to be mean but I had a feeling about the second wife of his. There are such people as…”
He trails off so I decide to help him.
“Money grabbing bitches?” I ask.
“Well yes,” he says with a chuckle. “I wasn’t going to use those exact words. But I told him to structure it in such a way so that his wishes might be honored when it comes to you guys trying to get along but that if that didn’t work out you would have some outs because I know how much he loved and cared about you.”
“Thank you so much Mr. Spiegel,” I say practically jumping up and down. “So you have an actual executed copy of his will, right?”
“I do,” he says. “I was meaning to contact you after he passed away but some people don’t want to be bothered with the details right away and I figured I’d let you come to me. He told me that you knew that I was the lawyer handling his estate so I figured you’d come talk to me when you were ready. So I was happy to receive your call.”
“Yes,” I tell him.
Now I’m kicking myself for not contacting him sooner. How could I be so blind and stupid? But at least I have time to fix it.
“I’ll come meet with you on Monday to go over things,” I tell him. “But the way I understand, and I’m sorry to be in a rush but I just want to clarify something… is that if I can buy out my stepmother’s share of the business then it is mine to do with as I please, correct?”
“It certainly is Ella.”
“Yes!” I practically call out.
“Is everything okay in there?” I hear my stepmother coming towards the door. “Gotta go,” I whisper to Mr. Spiegel.
“The money grabber cometh?” he guesses correctly.
“Yes,” I tell him. “She cometh for us all.”
He laughs and says, “Take care Ella and see you on Monday,” and I thank him again before we hang up.
“Almost done,” I say innocently to my stepmother. I make a big fake show out of flushing the toilet and fake washing my hands. By the time I get back to my spot with my broom, she’s doing a better job of keeping an eye on me. She is perched in the corner scowling at me.
“Were you talking to someone in there?” she accuses me.
“No one, it was just me and I was just singing a song to myself,” I tell her.
“One of those stupid Broadway songs you like?” she guesses.
“No, it was from a Disney movie,” I lie.
You’d make a perfect wicked witch, I think to myself.
Suddenly there’s a knock on the door. I had been planning to make a break for it as soon as I could but I hadn’t gotten the chance.
I rush towards the door.
“Oh no you don’t,” my stepmother stops me. Then she says, “Girls come help me.”
To my bewilderment my stepsisters rush out and they push me into the broom closet. They must push a chair up or something up on the other side because I can’t get out.
Oh my God these bitches are so bad they’re headed into kidnapping territory I think.
They open the door and I hear gushing and fawning. It’s definitely the prince. My Prince. And then I hear his familiar low voice. Despite my compromising position squatting in the closet like an idiot, I feel myself getting wet for him. I can’t help it. He just has the most amazing effect on me.
Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Page 54