Page 24 of One Night with Cinderella

“Remember it well, because I doubt it will happen again.”

She ended the call.

He finished off his coffee and reentered the house.

“Where in the world is... Monica Darby?”

His eyes followed that of his entire family to the sizable television over the fireplace in the den that was on other side of the chef’s kitchen. A morning entertainment-news show was on, and the mention of the ex-housekeeper’s name had caught everyone’s attention.

He eyed the video of Monica on the television before reclaiming his seat at the table. Her eyes were round and wide as she stood frozen on the steps of their town house.

“There’s our house on television! When will this madness end? Merde!” Nicolette swore in French.

“The secret love child of Academy Award–winning actor of stage and film Brock Maynard has not been seen since this day, leaving the Upper East Side town house of the Cress family who are well-known for their culinary empire...and their good looks. Take a look at this family!”

The family’s publicity shot filled the screen.

Nicolette groaned.

Phillip Sr. frowned.

Sean smiled broadly.

Phillip Jr. released a heavy breath.

Cole laughed.

Lucas winced.

Gabe tightened his jaw as the image changed to the flashes of the cameras playing over Monica’s face. He wondered about her whereabouts. Was she okay? Was she happy? He hoped so because she deserved it. She had been nothing but trustworthy and reliable as the lone regular employee in their home. He wished her nothing but the best. He thought of the tickets to the ball he’d given her and admitted that he hoped she’d decided to attend.

“We may not be able to zone in on Monica Darby’s whereabouts, but we have recently learned from a trusted source that Maynard did indeed leave his estate, estimated to be worth more than fifty million dollars, to his daughter. Now, that’s how you say sorry...”

That info stunned the entire Cress family.

The last week had been absolutely chaotic.

Monica sat on the foot of the king-size bed of her guest room of the luxury hotel on Fifth Avenue as she used the remote to flip through the cable channels. She paused at the sight of the video of her looking frightened that had been overused the last week, online and on television. “Now what?” she muttered.

“The secret love child of Academy Award–winning actor of stage and film Brock Maynard has not been seen since this day, leaving the Upper East Side town house of the Cress family who are well-known for their culinary empire...and their good looks. Take a look at this family!”

Monica’s eyes went to Gabe’s face in the photo. Nothing had changed in the week since she’d last seen him. The very sight of him still made her feel more alive than the moment before.

She looked over at the opened envelope on the dresser, holding the tickets to the charity event. An opportunity to see him once more. “Should I?” she mouthed.

“We may not be able to zone in on Monica Darby’s whereabouts, but we have recently learned from a trusted source that Maynard did indeed leave his estate, estimated to be worth more than fifty million dollars—”

Click.

Monica tossed the remote behind her onto the bed after having cut off the television. “Trusted source?” she protested. “You mean Phoebe Maynard? Then just say that.”

It was indeed her aunt that had planted the stories with the press because she refused to allow her brother to do in death what he’d done when he was alive—pretend he didn’t have a daughter. And Monica appreciated the show of support from Phoebe, but it had sent the press into her life with the vengeance of bees whose nest had been knocked to the ground.

She was tired of being stung.

With a sigh she moved across the room to the dresser and picked up the invite and pressed it to her nose. With every passing day the scent of his cologne lessened and now it barely held a hint of the warm and spicy aroma. She shifted her eyes up to see herself in the mirror, dressed in the luxury hotel’s plush white cotton robe, with her hair pulled up into a messy topknot, face free of makeup and her eyes bright with the light thinking about Gabe brought to them.

For the last week she had stayed cooped up in the posh hotel room in Midtown Manhattan, where the wealthy played, intending to remain until she’d made some final decision on where to start the newest chapter in her life. Every well-appointed detail of the room with its high ceilings, stylish decor and city view of Central Park was now imprinted on her brain.

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