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“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir,” Ella said looking down at the floor.
“Ella, I can’t keep you on. You must know that. You’re lucky I don’t call the police for indecency in a public place.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll just get my things and be on my way.”
“Yes, I think that’s best.” The thin man straightened his tie and looked up at me. “And you, sir, are no longer welcome in Le Mercure.
I smiled at the man. “I got what I came for,” I said savoring the maître d's horrified look as the images my words summoned played across his face. The tips of his ear turned red as he did a quick about face and scurried off.
“What have I done?” Ella leaned against the door frame of the coat closet we just defiled. Rather creatively, I’m not too modest to admit.
I took her hands in mine and looked deep into her beautiful green eyes. “Nothing we can’t fix, sweet Ella. Go get your things, I’ll take you home.”
I waited in the back of the town car as Ella gathered her things and presumably, said her goodbyes. When she emerged from the restaurant she looked pale, worry creasing her forehead.
A backpack full of textbooks, ill-fitting, thrift store clothes, it wasn’t hard to piece together why she was worried. Ella was paying her way through college or trying to at least. And she’d just lost her only source of income. Because of me.
I took her hand and again peered deep into her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
Ella nodded, but I couldn’t tell if she believed me fully.
She should. Her life was going to change dramatically for the good. I’d make sure she’d never have to worry again. Right after I showed her what a real Dom could make her feel.
“Take me back to headquarters, James,” I said to my driver. “Then take Ms.—”
“Ash,” Ella said.
“Then take Ms. Ash to her home.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Waldorf.”
“I have a meeting to attend to this evening. But I meant what I said, Ella. I will fix this and I will send the car for you tonight.”
Ella didn’t respond. She looked out the window as the city blurred by.
Chapter Seven
Ella
I sat in the backseat of the car, staring, wondering how I’d been so stupid.
“I will fix this, Ella,” he said as he got out of the car. I looked in his dark eyes and saw that he believed it. He really thought he could fix the mess I was in. It was sweet. I wanted to believe he’d follow through on his word but I’d been promised the world before, and things always seemed to happen to get in the way.
When my father remarried he promised it would be better. He said by marrying Agnes Tremaine, the notorious black widow of the Upper East Side, things would be different. She was supposed to bring life back into our home. He said not to worry about the rumors that she’d had a hand in killing her previous husbands to get at their money. He said she was gentle and sweet and kind. He said she would like me.
I was seven. I believed him.
But that wasn’t the case. Once she was moved in she demanded remodels on the penthouse. New furniture, new bathrooms, even a new kitchen she’d never step foot in.
Father gave her everything she wanted and it wasn’t enough. He worked himself harder and harder to provide for her but she was never happy.
Then, one day in April just after my sixteenth birthday and in the midst of securing a deal that would finally give us enough of a fortune to keep even “Lady Tremaine” as she forced me to call her, happy, we got the news that Father had died en route to China.
I left New York that day. Sold the few pieces of nice jewelry Lady Tremaine hadn’t confiscated and bought a ticket for as far away as I could get.
That’s how I ended up in Delaware. I couldn’t bear to live in the penthouse with that woman any longer.
