Page 6 of Cinderella Is Faking It

Considering how jittery Blondie had been just after telling Sallow to shove her ice cream opinions up her ass, I doubted she’d have made it through a discussion about why the plans for the Montgomery’s budget hotel had yet to be approved. That conversation with William Doyle merely wandered onto my to do list for after the merger. “Not my priority right now.”

“I haven’t heard of any more public appearances so far. You might just have to send her roses. That girl from the Roxy was obsessed with these roses in a bucket. Apparently, that’s a thing now.”

I chuckled at my brother’s attempt to come up with a romantic solution. I hadn’t seen Julian in a single romantic relationship since his wife died. But that had been fifteen years ago, and he had gone from grieving widower to someone who didn’t even bother learning the names of the arm candy that never lasted more than a month.

“Don’t worry,” I said, even though I wasn’t much more of a romantic, “I made sure to have an opening just in case she’d go back into hiding.”

“Good. I’m not letting this slip through our fingers, Beck. Fuck Gregory fucking Montgomery.”

“Hmm, I’d rather not.” Cordelia’s father had tied up his company in so many legal documents, all to ensure it would sink or swim with the Montgomery family long after his death. The egocentric bastard would rather throw billions of dollars out the window than have anyone outside his family take over his company. “Del on the other hand…” Those full, pomegranate red lips had me imagining a whole variety of ways one could fuck with the Montgomery legacy.

I got out of the armchair in front of Julian’s desk and wandered over to the window. You could see the roof of the first ever Montgomery hotel from here, but despite the Montgomery family - now reduced to Cordelia - living here, their main business was handled in New York nowadays. The Axent Group HQ, however, had been in Boston since my grandfather had started this company.

Their name had all the grandeur of old money attached to it, including Cordelia’s great-great-grandmother, some British duchess, having survived the Titanic. Axent had grown fast over 70 years because we expanded way beyond luxury hotels, but even a 5-star Axent Grand didn’t hold the same prestige as an old Montgomery. Merging the companies would combine classic and modern luxuries on a global scale. Everyone involved would benefit.

“I’ve been meaning to ask whether you want mother’s ring,” Julian said.

“Jesus fuck, no.” I laughed. “Unless you want the merger to fail. That thing is cursed.” Getting a ring wandered on my mental to do list though. Might as well get that out of the way.

Just because the old man had made sure nobody could take the hotels off Cordelia’s hands, didn’t mean nobody could take Cordelia’s hand. Once I was part of the Montgomery family, I’d be part of the business. It’d be smooth sailing from there. I’d just have to get her to the altar before she fucked up the whole company.

After catching Julian up on last night’s progress, the rest of my day was a blur of meetings and negotiations. Summer was usually quiet since the tourism season was well underway and any further strategies would be discussed in September, once the numbers were in. On the day to day, that just meant I got out of the office around seven instead of nine.

I’d bought the gym across the street a few years ago. For convenience mostly. I’d not even considered keeping it open to the public, but then I was never one to leave well enough alone. Vortex had turned into a solid side project. Even now, it was filled with the sounds of leather smacking into skin, gloves slapping into punching bags.

“Oh, bugger off,” Isaac groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. He rubbed a glove over his chest where my foot had landed after he screwed up his defense.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” I asked when he didn’t get back up.

“Unlike some other jobs, my work requires movement beyond typing out a few emails. So, I’d like to keep my ribs intact, thank you very much.” He let me pull him to his feet despite glaring at me. “That was brutal. Who spat in your beer?”

Swear to God, the more punches I landed, the stronger his Scottish accent broke through. Like I was knocking almost 20 years of living stateside right out of his system. “Didn’t get as far with the Montgomery girl as I’d hoped.” Not that I’d admit as much to Julian, or he’d take it upon himself to help.

“Poor little Beck. Did you meet a girl that didn’t drop her pants the second she lay eyes on you? Do you actually have to put in some effort?” He chuckled and pulled his gloves off. Apparently, that was our workout for the day. We’d only been going for 30 minutes. Isaac usually lasted at least 45, even though we always scheduled an hour. “Welcome to the realm of mortals.”

“Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes at him. He was one to talk when he’d had his dick in just about every nurse at his hospital. Somehow that accent had them all swooning for him.

“Oh, hello, darling. Do you need help with that?” For fuck’s sake. He’d stopped in his tracks to help some redhead in pink yoga gear with her pink boxing gloves. So much for the realm of mortals.

I left him there and hit the showers. Kicking the shit out of Isaac had eased my frustrations a little. I hadn’t expected a famously reclusive woman to drop her pants - as Isaac had put it - the first night I met her. Considering that she left her house so rarely, however, every minute of quality time lost put a dent in my plan to put a ring on her finger by Thanksgiving. I’d given myself four months to charm her pants off. Her inheritance would likely be out of probate by then, but even as her fiancée, I could probably keep the company from sinking without proper leadership.

Once dressed, I waited for Isaac at reception, pulling my phone out to do something that would actually help with my mood: Fix this.

“Hello,” a clear, female voice picked up when I’d fully expected this to go to voice mail.

“This is August Beckett for Cordelia Montgomery.” I still had her father’s number on file, and had figured they’d either transfer it to her, as the new owner, or would let it go to reception.

“Oh. Mr. Beckett.” The woman paused, the line going silent long enough for me to check my screen, making sure she hadn’t hung up. “She’s not available at the moment, can I take a message?”

“She dropped her necklace last night. I’d love the chance to return it in person.”

The woman sighed. “I’m afraid Miss Montgomery is opposed to taking personal meetings. I’m happy to arrange for a messenger to pick it up whenever convenient for you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Uh, I didn’t… I’m…” Another pause. That woman needed a lot of time to process her thoughts. “I’m Page, Miss Montgomery’s assistant.”

“Hi Page,” I said, putting on my most charming smile, hoping she could feel it ooze through the speaker, “I’m not sure whether you believe in fate, but I think it’s fate that Cordelia’s necklace came loose, and I happened to pick it up. I would love the chance to talk to her again. Could youpleaseput in a good word for me?”

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