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Cinderella's Daddies 19
EllaJoel’s office is empty for the fourth night in a row. I keep walking past it, as if he might poof into existence all of a sudden.But nope.I go through the motions of emptying wastebaskets, cleaning the bathrooms, tidying the break room and washing down the snack counter. When Joel still hasn’t shown up by the end of my shift, I slump down at the table in the break room and pull my phone from my dress pocket.The maid uniform might be as ugly as sin, but at least it has pockets.I don’t get to go to the gala. I can’t afford the gown I picked out, and what’s worse, I can’t afford any gown because my absolute idiot of a brother stole the last of my money. Already I won’t be able to eat very well over the next month, but I could’ve gotten through it on the memories of attending the Tyler Gala.I dial Joel. I would rather share this news in person, but it’s been three days, and if the shithead won’t come to work so I can see him, then I guess I’m left with the phone.If he doesn’t p
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EllaTonight is my one night off. I’d hoped, maybe, that Joel and I could do something, and when I texted to suggest a walk in the park in downtown San Esteban, because it’s free entertainment, he wrote back that he’s working.I could be there, now, if I had a shift tonight. I could go into Joel’s office. He’d close the blinds, then unfasten the buttons at his sleeves and roll the fabric up. His forearms would be thick and powerful, and he’d push me against the desk, spinning me around so I’d have to slam my hands down to catch myself.He’d hold me down, his hand firm on the back of my neck. While I pant for him, squirming, begging for his touch where I need it most, he would lift up my dress and see my lacy panties.His deep, rumbling voice would be amused as he says, “Naughty Ella. These panties are so sexy. And soaking wet. What a sweet little slut you are. Tell me, are you trying to tempt other men to want you?”“No,” I would say. “They’re just for you, Mr. Tyler.”Abruptly, I lea
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I hesitate, worrying that Tommy will bother the hell out of everyone else if I don’t show up.But he didn’t make plans with me. I’ve told him a hundred times that I prefer a head’s up when he’s coming over, because I get so little sleep as it is, it’s nice to know beforehand.Maybe if I’m not there, he’ll take the hint and start calling.I need to accept Mrs. Dali’s invitation—to be kind to myself.“Yes, thanks,” I say, taking the remaining steps between us and going into her apartment.I’ve rarely taken the time to look around her place, because usually I’m doing something fast, like dropping off her groceries or changing a lightbulb, or other things the landlord should be doing but never helps with.It’s cheerful in here, with bright rugs and throw pillows, and loads of photographs hanging on the walls. Many of the photos are black and white, but a few are in color.“My family and friends,” Mrs. Dali says fondly, when she sees me inspecting them.“You must have had a big family,” I
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SebastianA night at Vice with Kingston has lost all appeal. He doesn’t so much as look at the beautiful women who parade in front of our booth. They’re each trying to attract his notice, or mine. Or, the more daring and adventurous ones are trying to attract us both at once.But Kingston doesn’t care about any of them. And to be honest, neither do I.Finally, I set down my iced tea and face my friend.“You want her,” I say. “I want her. What’s to stop us from having her?”“Who are you talking about?”“Don’t play dumb, asshole.”He taps his fingers on the side of his tumbler. “She’s with Joel.”“But is Joel with her?”He just shakes his head. He’s getting more and more pissed about this, but I have to push. If I don’t, he’ll accept a defeat that only ruins things for both of us.And possibly ruins things for Ella, too. Because I want to give that little princess the motherfucking world.“Look,” I say. “We both know Joel is a fuckboy asshole. I’m not sorry for saying it, because that’s
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Around four a.m., I tried to go back to my own apartment, but my brother was sleeping outside of it, leaning against the door. I just couldn’t deal, and when I returned to Mrs. Dali’s apartment, she was kind enough to offer me her couch.But I don’t want to take advantage of her already generous hospitality, so it’s time to get going.I turn around to look at where we left the dress last night, and gasp in surprise. “You’ve done more with it.”Her brown eyes crinkle at the corners and she gives me a smug smile. “Yes, I always wake up early, so I slept for a couple of hours and then I was awake at six. I haven’t been able to leave the gown alone.”“It looks incredible,” I say.The plunging neckline is far more risqué than anything I would ever choose to wear. It’ll land halfway between my breasts and my belly button. The wide band going across the waist is no longer covered in a mishmash of beads, lace, and fake flowers; it’s now a single fabric panel with two silk ribbons sewn at the
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“There’s no rush to get up,” he says.“You can’t be comfortable,” I say. “I am so sorry to have put you in this position—”“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault you got hurt. I’m just glad I happened to be here tonight.”I shake my head. This is a nightmare. He must hate me.Carefully, slowly, I risk a glance at my finger. It’s covered in a bandage, all wrapped up. Not a drop of blood in sight. There aren’t even any bloody paper towels or anything.“Everything’s in the waste basket,” he says, likely noticing the way I’m looking all around. “I’ll take it out later, so you don’t have to see it.”“That’s really kind of you,” I say, “but it’s my job to do these things. I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”His body moves as he shakes his head, I think. I’m afraid to turn around and look at him. “Allow me to help you in this way.”The way he says it, all rough and stern, has me nodding automatically. “Okay, yeah, sure. Thank you.”“You’re welcome.”I’m determined to stand up. He hurri
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“How did you pull this off?” I ask, hurrying forward to run a finger tentatively along the edge of the clutch. It’s a simple design, a drawstring bag, but it somehow still looks elegant.“Waste not, want not. I used fabric from those flowing pieces we lopped off of the back of the dress,” she says. “From there, it was a simple matter of finding the perfect ribbon for the string, which I had in abundance in one of my sewing kits. And, well, your shoes were a little more difficult. I had to ask around. I checked your size when you slept here on Thursday night. Only one of my friends is your exact size, and we weren’t sure she would have a pair that could work, but we really got lucky.”“You did all of this…for me,” I whisper. “Thank you.”“Oh, you do so much for me, dear, I just wanted to do something in return. Now, it’s time to get ready. Fuss later, fuss later. You don’t want to be late to the gala!”She helps me with my hair and make-up, but we keep it simple because neither of us h
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As soon as I’m in front of them, he says, “Hey, you three. This is Kingston Tyler, the man behind this whole operation. Kingston, this is Jaxon Marsel, Ryder Callihan, and Olivia Santiago. Jaxon and Ryder own Ironwood Security.”We shake hands. The three of them are all attractive. Jaxon and Ryder look to be in their early thirties, and Olivia in her twenties. From the way the two men stand with her, their postures alert and protective, I get the impression that they care deeply about her. An engagement ring shines on her fourth finger, and I wonder which of them she’s engaged to.Of course, the three could be in a relationship together.We chat for a few minutes about their business. The men are interested in having my company crunch some numbers for them, and the woman wants to know who the caterer is for this event, and whether I might be interested in attending a charity event she’s putting on in the fall.This is exactly the kind of networking the gala is good for, although tonig
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