Cinderella's Prince Read online

  “It’s not what you did.” She squinted. “It’s what you wouldn’t do.”

  He turned his head away, sighing.

  “Don’t start this crap about you wanting me when you wouldn’t do the one thing it takes for us to be together.”

  “Like give up the career I’ve worked for to be with you?”

  She stooped over the tub, eye level with him. “You care more about fame and what people think of you than you do me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “The hell it’s not.” She stood up straight, bottom lip quivering. “You’ve always been ashamed of me because I’m the washed up, scandal-ridden, alcoholic screw up.”

  “Don’t stay that.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth. I can’t even get a role in a porno movie, Dash. No one wants anything to do with me. Not even my father.”

  “Hey, I hate to see you suffering like this.”

  She turned away, hiding a tear.

  “You’ve made mistakes, and you had a problem, but you got over that, Sierra.” He smiled. “You’re clean now and that’s all that matters.”

  “You admire that I’m getting things back on track yet hide we were together? How can you do that, Dash?”

  “You did a lot of horrible things, Sierra.”

  “I know. I killed my career, but what does that have to do with you being a wimp?”

  “Because I have no choice.” He lifted his head, peering at her. “I’m not the daughter of a legendary producer.”

  “Oh, come on.” She turned, crossing her arms.

  “No, listen. I only have one shot at this, Sierra. I worked my ass off to act and now I’m at the top of my game and you expect me to walk away from that?”

  “Why would you have to walk away?” She spread her arms out. “You can be with me and act.”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” He exhaled, nostrils flaring. “In Hollywood it’s all about who you know. You’re guilty by association, and it’s too much of a risk being with you.”

  “Hugh doesn’t think it’s a risk.”

  “Hugh’s a director and doesn’t have to worry about his image. He can afford to take risks.”

  “You selfish prick.” She dropped her arms. “You expected to have me in your bed, but I not get anything in return. I was the one giving everything, Dash. You wanna be the big Hollywood star but you’re too damn afraid to be seen with a disaster like me.”

  “Sierra—”

  “You get this straight.” She pointed at him. “I’ve been in this business since I was ten, and I worked damn hard even though everyone thinks I got roles because of my father. I sacrificed my entire life.”

  “Sacrificed?” He ridiculed. “You were born with two silver spoons in your mouth. You still don’t understand. I’m sorry your career is suffering, but you’ll always be okay because of your dad and your money. If I screw things up that’s it. I’m finished.” He snapped his head away. “My squeaky clean image is what’s made me, Sierra. It’s what sets me apart from everyone else. It’s what my fans love about me. I work hard to stay out of trouble and it’s difficult with people just waiting to bring you down, no. I won’t jeopardize what I’ve accomplished, not even for you. You have no right to judge me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re with Hugh because you think he’ll get your career back on track. What a joke.”

  “You don’t know a damn thing about Hugh and me.”

  He stared at her, the gold specks of his eyes sparkling. “I know you don’t love him.”

  “Don’t be jealous because Hugh is man enough to give me what you won’t.”

  “And what’s that?” He propped his arms on the back of the tub. “A hot beef injection?”

  “Shut up!”

  “He’s gonna hurt you, Sierra.” He squinted. “More than I ever could.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Why did you come here?” he grumbled. “Because if it’s to go in circles then you wasted a trip.”

  “I want you to drop out of the movie. It’s too awkward.”

  He guffawed. “Are you for real?”

  “You’re starring in my boyfriend’s movie and you’re my ex-lover.” Her pitch increased. “Where do you get off thinking that’s acceptable?”

  “I’m a professional.” He moved his hand out the water and swept it across his face. “Whatever happens with the movie doesn’t concern you.”

  “How in your world does this make sense?” She shook her purse. “Hugh would wring your neck if he knew we’ve been together.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, honey.” He winked. “Hugh wouldn’t give a damn who you were with. Sure is funny how you broke things off with me because sneaking around threatened your dignity yet you can be with a man who doesn’t respect you or wants you. What am I missing here, Sierra? Is the sex that good?”

  “Stay away from me, okay.” She backed up toward the double, glass doors.

  “Stay away from you?” He rose in the tub, water dripping from his toned buttocks. “You came here, didn’t you?”

  She opened the sliding doors and stepped her foot over the threshold.

  He settled back into the water. “I love you, Sierra.”

  She looked back, catching the sincerity in his eyes. “Too bad it’s not enough.”

  ****

  “Girl, you getting fired from Futero is the best thing that’s happened to you in a while.” Ashleigh Stork, Gabrielle’s social media assistant, sat on Gabrielle’s couch, face stuck in her laptop as always. “You got more Twitter traffic than Donald Trump.”

  “Goody.” Gabrielle slunk across the baby-blue tile of the adjacent kitchen in her penthouse apartment. “Nothing I like better than being compared to Trump.”

  “I’m serious,” Ashleigh squealed, her glasses slipping on her wide nose. “You’ve gone from twenty million followers to twenty-five million since Futero fired you.”

  “Damn.” Gabrielle chopped peppers and tomatoes for her omelet. “Five million more followers overnight?”

  “Uh-huh.” Ashleigh sat Indian-style on the leather couch, her frizzy hair bound to her head by an African scarf. “Shoot, you might wanna send Futero a thank you note.” She laughed.

  Gabrielle got eggs out her double-sided refrigerator. “My life is ruined, and you got jokes.”

  “Ruined?” Ashleigh poked her lips out. “Girl, please. If being beautiful, famous and rich means your life is ruined then sign me up.”

  “That’s the problem.” Gabrielle whisked eggs in a bowl. “People assume money and fame is the answer to everything.”

  “You’re also the most beautiful woman in the world so I don’t wanna hear your whining.”

  “Ashleigh, this is serious.”

  “I’m being serious.” She got a caramel square from Gabrielle’s candy dish and unwrapped it. “Shit, you don’t need Futero.”

  Gabrielle slammed the whisk in the stirred eggs. “You don’t get it do you? My entire life is modeling, Ashleigh. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I came out my momma modeling.” She poured the eggs into the skillet. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

  “You don’t have to do a thing.” Ashleigh chewed the candy, smacking. “Because folks are going to beat your door down with offers.”

  “How come I haven’t gotten one then?” Gabrielle got the spatula out the drawer. “I was fired yesterday morning, and no offer yet.” She chuckled. “I’m getting tons of requests for statements and interviews but not offers. Face it.” She shook the skillet as the eggs came together. “It’s over for me.”

  “Oh, I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this pity party. Your fans love you. Listen to this.” Ashleigh pointed to the screen. “Futero’s Facebook page is being bombed with threats and accusations of racism.”

  “Racism?” Gabrielle set down the spatula.

  “Yeah.” Ashleigh read, “Someone says, ‘It sure is funny that Futero never fired one of their white m
odels but the minute they get a black spokesmodel, she’s too old? Racism at its finest.’”

  “Wow.”

  “There are tons of these comments.” Ashleigh whistled. “Sistas are pissed. Listen to this one.” She sat up straight. “‘The only reason I bought their products was because of Gabrielle. Hell, they’ve lost my money forever.’”

  Gabrielle grew warm. “I didn’t know they’d take it so hard.”

  “They might be on to something.” Ashleigh lifted her head. “Maybe they wouldn’t have been too quick to let you go if you were white.” She read the screen. “I got an idea.”

  Gabrielle held her hip. “It always makes me nervous when you get that sneaky smile on your face.”

  “Why don’t you get Lessie to book you on a reality show?” She snapped her fingers. “Better yet, you can have your own reality show.”

  “Me with a reality show?” Gabrielle snickered. “About what?”

  “Just a show following your day to day routine as you try to get your career back. It would be an instant hit.”

  “I’m not selling my soul for some sleazy, ghetto reality show.” Gabrielle turned the omelet off and leaned against the counter, rubbing her eyes. “I couldn’t even sleep all night.” She entered the living room. “And, I can’t stand watching TV or being on the computer because everyone’s talking about it.” She plopped on the maroon two-seater beside the couch. “Don’t make fun of me, but I don’t know who I am without Futero. It was my brand and my worth. Now I feel so alone.”

  “Gabby.” Ashleigh jumped up and grabbed her into a hug. “Futero doesn’t define your worth. Your beauty, talent and perseverance did that. That’s what I admire about you.”

  “Thanks.” Gabrielle wiped tears with her palm.

  “Everything’s gonna fall into place.” Ashleigh sat back on the couch. “When one door closes another opens. It was time for you to move on.” She smirked, moaning.

  Gabrielle grimaced. “What?”

  “Know what you need?”

  “I need you to stop looking at me with that sneaky expression.”

  Ashleigh slapped the thigh of Gabrielle’s loose sweatpants. “You need something to take your mind off this. You need to do something you never do...relax and have fun.” She pushed up her glasses. “You need a man.”

  “Oh no.” Gabrielle waved on her way back to the kitchen. “Hell no.”

  “When’s the last time you went out on a date? It’s pathetic.”

  “You know what’s pathetic?” Gabrielle dumped the omelet onto a plate and poured a cup of apple juice. “An assistant who spends her time doing everything but what I pay her to do.” She sprinkled salt on the eggs. “I pay you to handle my social media accounts not be all up in my romantic life.”

  “What romantic life? That’s the problem. You don’t have one.”

  Gabrielle returned to the two-seater with her breakfast. “You see me complaining?” She took a sip of the tangy apple juice, which sent a tingle through her teeth due to the insane sweetness.

  “Gabrielle, if I looked like you, you couldn’t ever keep my black ass in the house.” Ashleigh cackled. “You can get any man you want.”

  “I don’t want ‘em.”

  “Which I can’t understand for the life of me.” Ashleigh stuck her tiny bosom out. “How can you not want a man?”

  “Because I don’t.” Gabrielle chewed the spongy eggs. “I need a modeling contract, not a man.” She waved her fork. “The Hollywood dating scene is not for me. There are only two types of men, and I’ve dated them both and don’t want to again.”

  Ashleigh sat back, sighing.

  “You got the rich athletes, musicians, and actors who only want to date someone who looks good on their arm or who can keep them in the limelight. Then you got the ordinary men who I dig, but who most likely only want me because of what I am and not who I am.” She ate more omelet. “I don’t have the patience for that rat race anymore. For that, I am too old.”

  “So, you don’t want romance or love? You gonna be single the rest of your life?”

  “Course I want love, but you can’t find true love in Los Angeles. The people here are too damn fake and got too many agendas. LA men are full of shit.”

  “Maybe it’s you.” Ashleigh set the laptop in her lap.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You want the moon and the stars,” she mocked. “Girl, there aren’t any perfect men and if that’s what you want then you will be single forever.”

  “I’m not looking for perfection but someone who loves me for me. I’m sick of men wanting me because I represent a fantasy of theirs.” She stabbed the omelet with her fork. “I’m willing to give a man my all if he can do the same.” She chewed. “I’m all for love, but I wonder if it even exists.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “It’s time to expand your horizons.” Ashleigh typed on the computer. “Among your many wishful suiters has been a man who can’t let go no matter how much you ignore him.”

  Gabrielle sipped juice. “Who?”

  Ashleigh’s soft, brown eyes danced. “You know who.”

  “Are you talking about Hugh Macintosh?” Gabrielle gulped eggs. “You must be drunk or high if that’s who you’re referring to.”

  “Why not him?” Ashleigh pouted. “Women would kill to lick the sweat off Hugh Macintosh’s feet, and you won’t even respond to the guy’s emails.”

  “Hugh Macintosh is a sadistic, egotistical, womanizing pig who has been stalking me for years.”

  “He hasn’t been stalking.” Ashleigh got another caramel. “He sends you gifts and writes you here and there.”

  “He bought me a diamond necklace that cost eighty thousand dollars and left the tag on it so I would know. Who does that?”

  “A man who’s in love.”

  “Uh...” Gabrielle batted her eyes. “How about a man who’s insane and belongs in a mental institution? I hate Hugh Macintosh and everything he stands for.”

  “HuMac is rich, sexy, and fine.” Ashleigh wobbled her head, eyes half-closed. “He’s a brilliant director and everything he touches turns into a hit. I’d be on that in a hot second.”

  “He’s got a girlfriend,” Gabrielle chomped a mouthful of eggs. “You forget about that?”

  “Please. Sierra Delfino? She’s just the flavor of the month. Besides, he’s only with her because he’s directing her daddy’s movie.”

  “Hugh has dated every woman in Hollywood, left a trail of broken hearts, and damaged women in his wake. What about Loya Moses?” Gabrielle sat up. “She was the biggest actress in the world when Hugh cast her in his movie. He seduced her, married her and the woman ended up having a breakdown because of his cheating. What woman would want to be with a man like that? Hugh only wants me because I’m the only woman who hasn’t fallen for his bullshit but he can keep it moving.” She wiggled. “He’ll never get his hands on this good chocolate stuff right here.”

  “So,” Ashleigh sang the word. “You’re not attracted to him?”

  “Hell no,” Gabrielle lied.

  “Well, you’d be the first woman who wasn’t.” Ashleigh winked. “If you’re telling the truth.”

  Gabrielle shrugged. “Okay, he’s good-looking.”

  Ashleigh glared, clearing her throat.

  “Okay he’s gorgeous, and he has a great body. But none of that takes away from the fact he must be screwed up to treat women the way he does.”

  “You’re judging him on what you’ve seen in the media.”

  “I’m judging him based off my instinct. I wouldn’t go near Hugh Macintosh to save my life.”

  “Miss Montane?” Mateo, the downstairs doorman, spoke through the intercom mounted beside the door.

  “Yes?” She ran to the door and pushed the button. “I’m here, Mateo.”

  “Sorry to interrupt you.”

  “It’s okay.” Gabrielle combed her fingers through her extensions.

  “Warner DiMaggio is here to see you.”
r />   “Ooh,” she shrieked. “Warner?” She jumped. “Oh my god.”

  “Shall I send him up or—”

  “Yes!” She laughed. “Send him up right away.” She let go of the button. “I can’t believe it.” She danced in place.

  Ashleigh stood. “What the hell is up with you?”

  “Warner DiMaggio is my oldest friend.” Gabrielle glued her eye to the peephole, dying from anticipation. “I haven’t seen him in about four years.”

  “Warner DiMaggio?” Ashleigh tapped her pointy chin. “Haven’t I heard that name before?”

  “He’s a photographer.” Gabrielle pressed her hands against the door, sight penetrating the peephole. “We knew each other back in Brooklyn. Warner did my first modeling portfolio.”

  “Wow. I guess you two are close, huh?”

  “Here he is.” Gabrielle yanked the door open. “Warner!” She jumped into his long arms.

  “Gabs!” Despite Gabrielle being five eleven, he swung her around as if she weighed two pounds. “Hey, Beautiful.” He kissed her cheek. “Mm. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

  “I’m so happy you’re here.” She covered her mouth, fighting tears.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” He chuckled, pinching her cheek. “That’s not the effect I wanted.”

  “I’m just so happy. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

  “No way could you miss me as much as I’ve missed you.” His medium-length, summer-blond hair framed his angular face with loose curls.

  “I can’t believe it’s been four years.” She tugged on the short sleeve of his button-down, denim shirt. “How did we let time get away like this?”

  “Just when I think it isn’t possible for you to get any more beautiful.” He held out her arms. “You’re stunning. Course you know that.” He laughed.

  She hugged him again, his cologne smelled similar to tree moss and the ground after rain.

  Ashleigh cleared her throat, nudging Gabrielle.

  “And who is this vision?” Warner took Ashleigh’s hand. “It should be against the law for so much beauty to be in one room.” He laid his pink lips to her hand. “I’m Warner DiMaggio. You are?”

  “Ashleigh Stork.” She pulled her hand back, giggling. “I’m Gabrielle’s social media assistant. I handle all her online promotions, answer emails, anything she needs me to do.”