One Night with Cinderella - Niobia Bryant Page 0,1

had not got used to him. Or the scent of his cologne. The warm and spicy scent reached her without being loud and cloying. It made her tingle.

All of the five Cress sons were handsome, but it was only Gabe that sent her into a tizzy. Only him.

Grab a hold of yourself, Monica.

For her, being enclosed with him in the elevator was like standing in the open doorway of a plane before spreading her arms wide and leaping to feel that quick shift from nervous anticipation to the sweet glory of free-falling through the air.

He was overwhelming without even trying to be so.

The elevator slid to a smooth stop and he slipped his phone into the back pocket of his denims before opening the gate. He offered her a brisk, congenial nod as he strode away.

She released the breath she must have been holding, finding it shaky as she closed her eyes and lightly bit down on her bottom lip as she awaited recovery. She was used to it. The man just did it for her. She couldn’t explain it. It was quite unfamiliar. And she didn’t even want to want him.

But there it was.

That spark.

“Gabe and Monica sitting in a tree. He’s I-G-N-O-R-I-N-G me,” she said dryly before allowing herself a self-deprecating little chuckle as the elevator continued its descent to the basement.

Not that she wanted the attention of him or any other man. As far as she was concerned, love spelled nothing but a bunch of trouble.

She enjoyed her life of solitude. She spent her days keeping the family’s home organized and tidy before retiring to her maid quarters and enjoying a night of television or reading. She felt safe from the disappointment and hurt she’d felt all her life growing up in the foster care system, never feeling at home or fitting in...and wondering why her parents didn’t want her for themselves.

Monica pushed away the all-too-familiar pain she felt at being abandoned, thankful time had dulled it to just an ache. She shook her head a little as she stepped off the elevator into the basement, moving past the wine cellar, storage room and utility closet—every area grander than the next. She refused to give her unknown parents that type of power over her life—just as she had the numerous social workers, case managers and foster families she encountered as she was shifted from various group homes and foster families throughout her childhood.

She did not emotionally invest in anyone.

Love had let her down one time too many.

Look how my last relationship turned out.

As she rolled the caddie into the closet where she kept some of her cleaning supplies, she paused with her hand on the door. Remembering him.

James.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, wishing life had rewind and delete buttons.

Once she aged out of the system at eighteen when the government deemed her an adult, Monica had been lucky enough to attend a community college and acquire a studio apartment, relying on school grants, loans and a part-time job to pay her way. Times had been tough and lean. Never had she felt so afraid that she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own but also so determined to enjoy her freedom. She had been a student there for two years when she’d met and fallen in love with James Gilligan, a handsome travel photographer who convinced her to drop out of college and go RVing across the country with him as he documented his adventures on his popular blog. Leaving school had been a huge choice, but she felt she finally had someone who loved her and hadn’t dared to risk losing him. Their travels and nomadic lifestyle lasted five years, filled with fun and spontaneity, until they traveled back to New York for a brief visit and she awakened one morning to discover he had left her behind to search for his next quest without her.

Monica grunted at her foolishness, hating how heartache and betrayal had left such an imprint. It’d been five years since she’d had to gather her wits, put aside her tears and make a new plan for her life. The advertisement for an in-house staff position had seemed like an answer to her prayers, providing a job and a place to stay. She applied and then thankfully accepted the position when it was offered.

Once she had work to focus on, she resolved to never give someone the chance to hurt her and leave her behind again.

Like her