Page 39 of One Night with Cinderella

He looked down at his feet as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. The moments seemed to tick by ever so slowly. “We both agreed that whenever one of us said it was done then it was done,” he said.

“Right,” Monica said, fighting the urge to run to him and be wrapped in his arms again.

Gabe looked up and locked his eyes on her. “This is what you want?” he asked, his voice deep and serious and final.

There in the depths was an ultimatum. She knew her answer would lead to him walking out the door and never returning.

“Yes,” she lied before turning her back on him and closing her eyes as she fought to do what she knew needed to be done to save herself any more heartbreak.

Monica stood by the fireplace and gripped the mantel. She listened as he gathered his suit jacket, tie, briefcase and keys, and then his footsteps echoed against the wood floors as he walked to the door and opened it. Like a fool she dared to glance back over her shoulder and saw him paused in the open doorway with his back to her. He turned his head and showed his profile. His jaw was rigid.

“I am deeply sorry about your mother,” he said. “If there is ever anything I can do for you to help you, just ask, and I’ll get it done.”

She believed him. That was the problem. He was so very easy to love.

She looked away from him.

Moments later the door softly closed behind him.

Monica released the mantel and allowed her knees to go out beneath her. There, atop the plush area rug, she curled her body into the fetal position and wept. For the mother she would never know. The father who’d abandoned her. And the love she was afraid to have.

Another loss.

At least this time it was my choice.

One month later

Gabe left the bathroom of his parents’ eight-bedroom country estate in the village of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, twenty miles outside Paris, with a towel draped around his waist and another over his head as he dried his hair. Letting the damp cloth fall to his shoulders, he walked over to the large windows and looked out at the beauty of the countryside. The sun was just beginning to set and the skies were painted in dreamy colors as day shifted to night. A wind blew across the fields and sent wildflowers swaying back and forth among the emerald grass. In the distance were the red roofs of the homes in the village. Trees with leaves in shades of green, gold and claret towered, offering shade and some relief from the heat.

With approval from the board of Cress, INC., Gabe had been in Paris the last month overseeing the construction and launch of CRESS XI. At times the solace of the large country estate was haunting, but most days, he was glad to be free of the continuing rivalry among his brothers. And the work kept him busy and his thoughts occupied.

He wished he had more control as he slept. His dreams of her betrayed him.

Bzzzzzz.

He looked back over his shoulder at his iPhone on the pine French-provincial dresser. He strode across the room to flip it over and accepted the disappointment he felt that it wasn’t her calling.

So be it.

He wouldn’t be the one to make the first move. And perhaps it was for the best. What future could they have? She lacked trust and he thrived on ambition. Neither was equipped for more between them.

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