Page 6 of The Cinderella Secret
“Everyone in the van who’s getting in the van,” bellowed someone who sounded Australian. She turned and saw a man holding open the door to a minivan taxicab.
She looked back at Number Nine. There was no way she could get to him without her mother seeing. He pointed to the road. Ella found herself backing up toward the van. Climbing in, Ella looked back one more time—Number Nine waved, and she waved weakly back. She had the cash. She had her passport. She had her opportunity. She had to take it. Getting in the van, Ella took a deep breath and hoped she was doing the right thing.
4
Aiden – Axios Partners
“Um, Aiden,” the secretary’s voice squeaked, and twenty-seven-year-old Aiden Deveraux paused in his brisk walk through the halls of Axios Partners, looking up at the woman in surprise. Jenna was a cheerful thirty-something who handled phones and appointments for himself and the three other lawyers in his department with ease. Too much ease, actually. Jenna was smarter than the job. He kept trying to angle her into a law clerk position, but so far, the partners had blocked him.
He liked Axios well enough. It was the easiest job he could find that met his grandmother’s criteria of making the family look good. But when he’d selected corporate law as his area of interest, he hadn’t realized how boring it would be. It did leave him plenty of time for his extra-curricular activities, but it also meant Aiden frequently spent his days spacing out in boredom, which only contributed to his air-head reputation.
“What’s up, Jenna?” He wondered what he’d managed to miss this time. He’d spent most of his morning prepping a brief for the ACLU. Jenna was the only person at the office who knew about that particular extra-curricular. She approved of his volunteering for the ACLU, even if it was time that Axios Partners paid him for. Jenna usually sent up warning flares if he was about to miss something important.
“Um,” she said again, “your brother is in your office.”
Aiden didn’t have any brothers. He had one younger sister and two cousins, either of whom could have been mistaken for brothers. But between his cousins Evan and Jackson, Jackson was far more likely to drop by unannounced.
Jackson was the illegitimate child of Aiden’s uncle, Randall Deveraux. Jackson had been in prison when they discovered his existence, and Aiden had expected Jackson to conform to his resume of burglary and armed robbery. But Aiden could not have been more wrong. Jackson had changed the Deveraux family for the better. Jackson was endlessly supportive, occasionally prying, and generally went out of his way to ingratiate himself to support staff.
Aiden’s cousin Evan, on the other hand, was the victim of an entire childhood of abuse at the hands of his father, Owen, and Evan had spent most of his late teens and early twenties following in his father’s footsteps. The idea that Evan would pop in for a visit seemed far-fetched, even if his behavior over the last year had been…better.
“I brought him a water,” said Jenna. “You don’t need me to do anything else, right?” She was twisting her fingers together in front of her.
Evan it was, then.
“No, we won’t need anything else,” he said. “Thanks.”
Aiden opened the door and saw that his guess had been correct—Evan was in his office. His thirty-year-old red-headed cousin was always impeccably dressed and today was no exception. Hand-tailored Italian suits were Evan’s signature look, and with the classic Roman profile, Evan, of all the cousins, looked the most Deveraux-ish.
Evan was currently frowning at the bottle of water in his hand. “Do I owe your secretary an apology?”
“I don’t know,” said Aiden, surprised. Evan was not known for apologizing to anyone, let alone secretaries. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing. I asked to see you and she put me in here and brought me a water.”
Aiden shut the door and went around to his desk, shuffling through the various folders in his hand. “You didn’t want water?”
“I didn’t ask for water. She just brought it. But the way she practically ran out of the room made me think maybe last time I was here…” He trailed off, looking embarrassed. “I don’t remember her.”
Evan had spent a lot of time under the influence of various substances. Aiden had the feeling that sobriety for Evan was one prolonged morning after. Unfortunately, when it came to those kind of messes, Aiden was the one in the family who had to do the cleaning up. So far, cleaning up after Evan had involved some minor fender benders and damages to a hotel room that Evan refused to discuss. The idea that Evan had been in any way abusive toward Jenna made Aiden’s stomach clench. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two because he knew what the answer was going to be, even if he hated himself for it.
“Well,” said Aiden, brusquely, “whatever you did, as your lawyer I’m going to advise you not to say anything. Apologies can be construed as responsibility.”
“That’s a dickhead thing to say,” retorted Evan and Aiden felt relieved. If Evan thought apologizing was the right thing to do then perhaps nothing bad had really happened.
“It’s a lawyer thing to say,” replied Aiden, easing his tone a bit. “Frequently, those two are the same thing. Did you need something or did you just pop by to call me a dickhead?”
“Sorry,” said Evan, coloring up. “I needed to talk to you about DevEntier.”
“Didn’t you get my report after the last board meeting?” asked Aiden, sitting down at his desk and gesturing to the empty chair on the other side. DevEntier Industries had been founded by their grandfather Henry and his partner Charles MacKentier Sr. It was started as a research and development firm, originally focusing on aviation innovation, but had moved into alternative energies. After Henry’s death, Randall and Owen had filled his shoes. Owen eventually left to work in finance and real estate development, but Randall had still been working there when the Deveraux plane went down. Jackson and Evan had split a twenty-five percent interest in the company and ostensibly sat on the board. Not that they ever went to the meetings. They sent Aiden instead.
“Yes, of course,” said Evan, sitting down and carefully placing the bottle of water on a coaster at the edge of Aiden’s desk. “Thanks for doing that. I ought to go myself. I just…”
Aiden felt a pang of sympathy. Evan was just enough older that he had memories of DevEntier from when Randall and Owen were alive.
“I don’t mind,” said Aiden. “It’s fine.”
“No, I’m trying to work on some of these Dad and Randall…things. I ought to go. But being there makes me…” Evan flexed his fingers a few times and ended up making a fist. Then he carefully flattened out his hand on the armrest. “I should probably go.”
