“It’s a sneaky thing to do,” Stina said, stalking toward Ella. Her heels smacked the cement. While Ella stood her ground and maintained eye contact, inside, her stomach retreated.
“Especially at Christmastime,” Stina continued. “I’m sure they’re doubling down on surveillance, so let’s make sure we do our best work. I’d hate for Ever After Sweets to search for different custodial management because someone on my staff has been dishonest.”
Stina’s words stung. She hadn’t directed them at Ella. She hadn’t even been looking at her. But from the way Charlotte and Pris sniggered beneath their hands, from the way their mother pursed her lips at them, Ella got the feeling the threat was targeted at her.
CHAPTER SIX
Ella pushed the large, wheeled garbage can along the hallway, stopping to wipe the glass display near the elevator with the employee names and their room numbers. Earbuds in place, she drowned out her worries with a podcast on fashion design.
The featured speaker that morning discussed streamlining a formal gown to be a cross between a full, flowing princess skirt and a more contemporary bodice. From there, the conversation drifted into more of the marketing side of things. Having designs noticed by magazines. Getting a photo op on a front cover.
Ella wished she could stop to take notes, but as it was, she did her best to mentally catalog the tips being given. Fingerprints removed from the glass display case, she now rotated.
The podcaster paused long enough for sounds of a squeaky-wheeled mop bucket to trail from down the hall. Charlotte gave Ella a small wave. She’d always been the nicer of her two stepsisters.
Ella peeked at the clock over the stairs. It was nearly nine. Time to return cleaning tools to their coordinating closets on every floor and close things up for the day. Hand in her keys, get home and take a few minutes to scratch out the new design dominating her thoughts.
Charlotte wheeled in closer. “Did you see this?” She offered her phone in Ella’s direction.
“What are you doing here?” Ella asked. “I thought you were on the seventh floor.”
“Mom reassigned me. Check this out. These gowns are going for amazing prices.”
Ella examined the screen, impressed by the designs. Gold ball gowns, indigo, strapless dresses, black and sequined that reached only to the thigh. Each display joined with a little yellow sale tag. The prices were actually decent.
“Where is this?” Ella asked.
“Circle of Elegance, downtown,” Charlotte said.
“They’re lovely,” Ella said. She rested her cloth against its place on the garbage cart when her pulse kicked dirt like a runaway horse.
Hawk Danielson turned the corner and made his way to the stairs. To where she and Charlotte stood.
Ella was painfully aware of her rumpled jumpsuit from her dingy locker down in the basement. She panicked. He couldn’t see her like this. Her hands were sticky thanks to something that had clung to the garbage bag she’d emptied. Her hair was falling loose from its bun.
The last time he’d seen her she was dressed half decent. But this? Besides, he’d put the pieces together about where she worked.
The custodial closet taunted her from down the hall, too far to make a mad dash without being completely obvious. Heat pooled in her cheeks. Hawk drew closer, looking razor-sharp and dressed to kill in a pinstriped suit, his blonde hair swooping up in that oh-so-casual way that bespoke of rumpled, roll-out-of-bed mornings made better by hair gel.
“Hey, there,” Charlotte said as he approached.
On impulse, Ella yanked the dust cloth from her pocket, dropped it to the floor, and crouched for it just in time to hide behind the garbage can like a total coward.
“Good morning,” Hawk responded. Ella imagined his gaze making the briefest sweep toward her direction. She moved farther to the side, hoping he couldn’t see her, or worse, that he wouldn’t roll the garbage can away.
While he was blocked from her view, Ella could see Charlotte staring at him like a befuddled school girl. Silence ensued. Ella imagined Hawk blinking several times as if questioning her mental state.
“Have a good one,” Hawk finally said, casting a final look toward the garbage can before giving Charlotte an acknowledging nod and swaggering to the stairs.
The stairs. Ella almost laughed. Of course, he wouldn’t take the elevator again. Not after what happened to him the last time.
Ella exhaled the minute he was out of sight, rolling the garbage can away just enough to regain her posture once more. A mixture of relief and shame filled her. What was her problem? Would it really have been so bad to just talk to him?
“Did you see that? He said hi to me,” Charlotte said, fanning herself. “Oh my gosh. Who knew the Candy Man was such a hottie?”
Ella decided to feign ignorance. She bobbed her chin in the direction Hawk headed. “Who was that?”
Charlotte scoffed. “Only the owner of this entire building. Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t seen him around.”
“I haven’t really paid attention,” Ella bluffed, bending for her yellow dust rag. Turns out she’d left it on the floor after all.
Charlotte licked her upper lip, still ogling the stairs. “You know, I’m suddenly looking forward to this Christmas Eve ball.”
Rag in hand, Ella wheeled the large, gray can the rest of the way down the hall and into the custodial closet. She pushed it back to make room for Charlotte to empty her mop water into the floor-tub. The garbage wasn’t full enough to empty, so Ella left it for tomorrow.
“You’re going?” Ella asked.
Charlotte shrugged. “Why not? Mom’s party is during the afternoon. We’ll have the evening to ourselves. She’s cleared everything so we can go.”
We.
Had Charlotte just included Ella in that? Ella’s excitement grew. “I hadn’t heard. She said she had me scheduled to clean Highland Heights.”
Charlotte hung the mop on its peg and dusted her hands. “On Christmas Eve? Please. Mom isn’t that heartless. Anyway, I can’t believe some of these dress prices. I’m going to head over and see if I can’t get in on this sale. You should come.”
Ella was stunned. “You’re seriously inviting me?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
She narrowed her eyes. While Charlotte may have been the nicer of her two stepsisters, she’d never invited Ella anywhere.
Charlotte seemed to read the question in Ella’s gaze. She fiddled with the zipper on her jumpsuit, as though just as nervous about all this as Ella was. “It’s Christmas. We should go shopping together.”
Ella couldn’t help the unease passing through her. Plenty of Christmases had come and gone in the ten years since their parents had married. What made this one any different, especially with how closed off Stina and Pris were?
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t know if I’m going. I have to check with Stina.”
“Check with her then,” Charlotte said, shrugging and heading into the hall.
Ella locked the closet door and shuffled to the elevator, pushing LL for the building’s lower level. Much as she wanted to believe Charlotte’s sudden offer, why was she buddying up to her now?
Ella was tempted. How would it be to dress up in a stunning gown, to show up at the festive ball and feel like a princess for one night?
She thought of her podcast, though. Of the designs they’d been discussing. One had been swimming through her brain, and it continued teasing her mind even now. Her fingers prickled to get a hold of a pencil, to transfer what was in her brain onto paper.
However, if she went to the ball, she didn’t want to go in someone else’s gown, in something picked off the rack. She wanted to go in something she’d designed. In something she had sewn with her own two hands, something she could waltz into that room in and have the pride of knowing it was all her own.
The elevator arrived, and Ella quickened her pace down the hall, eagerness tripping through her. While Charlotte had been many t
hings, Ella had never pegged her as a liar.
Too often in their younger days, it had seemed like a contest between Ella and Pris. A contest where Charlotte was the middle man, torn because she couldn’t be friends with one of them without making it look like she was taking sides. If this was her way of reaching out, Ella knew she needed to let Charlotte know she was open to that. To friendship.
When referring to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day plans, Charlotte had said we. Did that include Ella? Was she actually going to be invited to Christmas lunch with her dad and have the holiday off?
It was too much to hope for, and yet hope bloomed in her chest like a newly inflated balloon.
Ella entered the breakroom. Charlotte, Pris, Wade, and Liam trailed behind her one by one, inserting their time cards into the machine and heading out. Charlotte and Pris gabbed the whole way down the hall after begging their mom for a wad of cash to buy dresses.
Stina lingered, sitting at her desk and scrolling through what Ella assumed was her email.
Ella hesitated. She’d been down this road before, thinking Stina was in a pleasant mood only to make her request and be shot down. But Charlotte had said it. It was Christmas.
Fingers interlocked in front of her, Ella took a tentative step toward the desk.
“So what time is the Christmas Eve party?” Ella asked, handing Stina her keys.
“Party?” Stina’s confusion was evident in her tone and in the crease between her brows. She took the keys and inserted them into the drawer before locking it tight.
Ella gripped her purse strap. Had she said something wrong? It was December twenty-third. That meant the following day was Christmas Eve. “Yeah, your Christmas lunch tomorrow. With my dad. I thought—”
“You’re not invited,” she said with a laugh.
The words, their mocking tone, were a slap. Ella chafed at the instant rejection, skin smarting as surely as if she’d been struck. She wanted to dash from the room, to scurry away and hide and pretend she’d never said a word, but she felt the need to clarify.
“What do you mean? Charlotte was just saying—”
Stina pushed away from the desk with manicured hands. “Charlotte isn’t making a thousand pillowcases for charity. That’s your first priority, isn’t it?”
“It is a priority, but—”
Stina’s bottom lip pouted in false pity. “Ella, sweetie, I know you’ll want to come, but it just isn’t going to happen. There’s too much for you to do with this Sierra project of yours. I didn’t want to put any additional pressure on you. It’s a busy time, especially if you’re wanting to finish in time for the ball.”
It sounded like Stina was being considerate of her, that she was being helpful. Ella knew what a lie it was. She knew this would happen. She knew better than to put her heart and her hopes on the line around this woman.
Still, hope wasn’t getting the hint. Ella pressed on. “So Charlotte was right, you’ve canceled working at Highland Heights?”
“Of course not. You’ll just have to leave the ball early to make it to work in time.”
Leave the ball early. Forget that it would be Christmas Eve. Forget that Ella hadn’t been a welcomed guest at her father’s home for two years. Forget she was just as much a member of the family as Charlotte or Pris.
Well, all right then, she thought sarcastically. Who needed to spend Christmas lunch there anyway? Or Christmas morning, for that matter. She had Grandma Larsen.
Somehow, the consolation wasn’t as soothing as she wanted it to be.
“This is your job, Ella,” Stina went on. “And like it or not, I am your manager. So until you find work elsewhere, you go where I schedule you.”
How she must love this, lording over Ella like she was her own personal servant.
Ella wanted to retort. There was so much she wanted to say, but what good would it do? Stina was right—this was her job.
She swallowed her pride and pushed back the tears threatening at her eyes. “What time do I need to be there?”
Stina lifted her chin, smirking in silent, smug victory. She nodded as if stamping her approval on Ella’s continued doormat status. “I told them midnight,” she said. “That should give you time to enjoy a little of the ball before dashing off. Then you can work and be back for presents with…whoever you celebrate Christmas with.”
No sympathy or remorse came from Stina at being the cause of exclusion from Ella’s own father’s home. Stina waved this last part out as though it was nothing more than an afterthought and began sorting through papers on her desk.
Ella had tried pleading with her dad after the whole debacle with Derek Cummins had happened, but he’d taken his wife’s side. Granted, he had to live with the woman, but still. They’d all made unfair accusations about Ella stealing Derek right out from under Pris’s nose.
Truth be told, Derek had shared with Ella how manipulative Pris was while they’d been dating. How he loved being around Ella because she didn’t belittle him or make him feel incompetent just so he’d stay with her. After he and Pris had broken up, he’d gone to Ella as a friend, because he’d needed someone to talk to.
Then, after spending a few afternoons together, sparks had flown between them. He’d kissed her. Asked her out on a few dates. Of course, it had looked like she’d been his rebound.
Ella could still hear the shrieks and nasty things Pris had said to her once Pris had found out.
She and Derek had tried to continue dating after that, to show Pris and Stina the pair had no control over their lives, but after things continued going downhill, Derek and Ella had agreed to end it, for both of their sakes.
And then Ella had been denied entrance into her childhood home altogether.
“I’m sure you have somewhere else you’d rather be than with the rest of us,” Stina had snarled from the half-opened front door one year on Christmas Day when Ella arrived for the family gathering. Ella had spotted the Christmas tree behind her. Music had wafted from the open door, along with the smells of cinnamon rolls and ham. Then Stina had left her on the doorstep like a traveling salesman.
Stina had a sniveling way of turning things around, of making it sound like she was trying to be considerate of Ella, but there was always something underlying, something that sounded and felt not quite right.
Even now, Stina didn’t have to schedule her—or anyone—on Christmas Eve. She could have said no to whoever this owner at Highland Heights was.
With a sigh, Ella tried looking at things from the positive. The only person she could control was herself. Her mother had always insisted as much. At least Stina was letting her go to the ball. There was that.
“I still haven’t decided if I’m going or not,” Ella said.
Stina paused as if just realizing Ella was still standing there. Her tone shifted from honey to vinegar in an instant. She rose from her chair and jabbed a finger in Ella’s direction. “You’d better not miss this. You’re my reliable one; I need you there on that job.”
Ella lifted her hands, realizing too late how it’d sounded. “Stina, I was talking about the ball.”
Her stepmother sniffed, seeming to comprehend the slipup. “I don’t care whether you go to that ball or not,” Stina said. “But I expect you to go to the Highland job, or you’ll be hunting for a new one.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two more days until Christmas. Hawk was definitely pushing it. He should have had the candy delivery to Harmony Children’s planned out before now, but dealing with financial advisors arguing with him about costs, with the expansion into commercial stores, not to mention other matters concerning the ball, he’d let it slip through the cracks.
His financial advisor’s insistence clamored through his brain even now. Donating candy to the children’s hospital was too much. An unnecessary hassle.
Hawk refused to believe it. Not only was a charitable donation good for tax purposes, but candy for these kids wouldn’t cut into that many costs. He needed Production to ge
t on this order as quickly as possible or they’d be out of time.
Chances were, however, it was already too late for that. He wouldn’t let that stop him. If he had to, Hawk would pay out of pocket for the gift bags and the confections to fill them.
The notion sparked something inside of him. Hawk paused in his chair, resting his hands against the edge of his desk.
“You know,” he said to his empty office, to the Christmas tree in the corner. Light from the window glinted off the bright, red and gold bulbs. “That’s not a bad idea.”
In a flash he was up, buttoning his suitcoat and texting Clary to stop by any of his shops and pick out an assortment of goodie bags. None of this waiting-for-approval business. This was his gift to the hospital, and the old adage rang true. He wanted something done. So he was doing it himself.
How many? Clary asked.
Hawk did a mental calculation of the hospital’s youthful residents. As far as he knew, there were over fifty children currently receiving treatment. The woman on the elevator had stated a number close to that. The hospital staff might like a Christmas treat too, though.
Better make it 200, he answered. Hopefully, that would be enough.
Will do, sir.
Hawk’s steps were lighter than they’d been in days. What, with the stress he’d been under lately, it felt good to be doing something for someone else. He’d already gotten gifts for Faye, his parents, and the designated sibling from his family’s annual gift rotation, but ordering candy for these kids seemed different somehow.
It was the woman in the elevator. In some roundabout way, he felt as though he was doing this for her.
How are you planning on delivering these to the hospital? Clary texted. Would you like me to do it?
Everyone was taking the day off tomorrow and then again Christmas Day. This really should have been put into motion sooner, but with the other demands he’d been dealing with, it’d slipped his mind.
No, thanks. I’ll handle it, Hawk replied. He wanted this to be a personal gesture.
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