One Night with Cinderella - Niobia Bryant Page 0,2
parents.
Like so many foster parents.
Like James.
Monica sighed as that poignant ache of bitter disappointment radiated across her chest. His treachery still affected her. She hated that so much.
She closed the door to the supply closet and moved over to open the door to the stylish and brightly lit laundry room, where she loaded two high-capacity washers with bed linen that she changed every day. While the machines quietly went to work, she walked to the other end of the basement to her quarters. It was a lovely little suite comprised of a bedroom, adjoining bathroom and small sitting area. She’d decorated the area in shades of yellow to give it more warmth, make it feel a little bit like her own, since it was the longest she’d ever been in one residence.
She pulled a small stack of envelopes from the front pocket of her apron to put on the side table near the recliner to sort through later. The family’s mail was left on an ostrich leather tray in the foyer, as was customary. Leaving her room, she closed the door and retraced her steps until she reached the stairs to make her way up to the modern and brightly lit kitchen on the first level. The space, with its dark wood against light walls, chrome appliances and bronzed fixtures, was as beautifully designed as the rest of the town house.
The family’s chef, Jillian Rossi, was out doing her daily shopping, and Monica always used that time to clean the kitchen from what little mess was left over from the family’s breakfast dishes. Before loading the dishwasher, she opened it to find the high-end cutlery she knew belonged to Jillian from the initials engraved on the handles. She spotted the chef’s leather carry case on the granite counter and retrieved it, undid the clasp and unrolled it.
A handwritten note was inside.
“‘The taste of you still lingers on my tongue,’” she read aloud.
Well, well, well, Jillian...
Monica furrowed her brow as she rolled the carry case back as it had been, wishing she’d never seen the note—or the embossed gold Cress, INC. logo at the top. In such a large, affluent family, whose members chose to do business and live together, secrets weren’t scarce. She’d seen and heard plenty in her five years. Hidden safes. Vices. Stubborn grudges. Business deals. Promises made. Promises broken. Even two of the brothers unknowingly dating the same sexy socialite. Discovering that one of the Cress men was enjoying a secret tryst with Jillian the Chef—complete with a handwritten note in this day and age—was light work in comparison.
It was none of her business, but Monica couldn’t help but wonder which one.
Phillip Jr.? Or Sean? Cole? Maybe Lucas?
She winced as she pictured Gabe passionately kissing Jillian. She had no right to the jealousy warming her stomach. If Gabe and Jillian were secret lovers then it was no concern of hers.
Right?
Right.
Still, at that moment, it was feeling easier said than done.
* * *
Gabe stroked his chin as he stared at the waterfall fountain at the end of the paved garden area. Winter was just truly beginning to break and the air was crisp and refreshing instead of biting and chilly. He sat at the long concrete table beneath the arched framework that covered the full thirty-two-foot length of the area with the leaves of bamboo trees offering the family privacy and shade when they were outdoors. The sounds of New York on the adjacent busy Lexington Avenue reached him, but it was vague background noise as he focused instead on his thoughts.
Serving as the president of the restaurant division of Cress, INC. made him responsible for making decisions that produced results. Phillip Cress Sr., his stalwart father and the company’s chief executive officer, expected nothing less and made that fact clear with all of his sons. Gabe was a strong-willed man with his own vision and ideas, but he had little patience. He was finding it tiresome proving himself worthy to a domineering father who expected nothing but blind allegiance.
Gabe wished his father knew his loyalty to his family existed because he loved his parents and his brothers above all and would do anything to see them happy. Making sacrifices wasn’t new. Gabe had always tried so very hard to be unproblematic for his parents. With five rowdy boys and a busy professional life that had led to stellar careers, his parents hadn’t needed an extra hassle. Another child to discipline. Another child to worry about. It had