FOUR MONTHS LATER
I bounced with nervous energy as Brian and I drove up to the beautiful two-story brick home with white colonial pillars. This was my first time visiting Brian’s mom and stepdad, but it wasn’t hard to pick out which house on the street was theirs, considering it was the only one decked out in full Christmas attire.
Garland was twined around the front porch railing and the pillars, a gorgeous wreath hung on the front door, and glowing white reindeer stood proudly in the front yard. Liz and Doug had even gone so far as to cover the sprawling green lawn with a layer of puffy white fluff to masquerade as snow. The lights on the house were just becoming visible as twilight hit the lovely city of Green Bay, Wisconsin. I’d timed my travel plans just right. It was perfect.
As we pulled into the driveway of Brian’s mother’s home, he gaped up at the decorations as if he thought his mother had lost her mind. I couldn’t blame him. It was almost August, after all. “What in the world…?
“That’s so strange,” I agreed.
Brian glanced at me, suspicion shining through his narrowed eyes. I wasn’t the actor in this relationship, that was for sure. I was hard-pressed to keep the grin off my face as I opened the door and got out of the rental car. “Let’s go find out what’s going on.”
Brian didn’t believe my innocence for a second, but he got out of the car without demanding answers and walked arm in arm with me up the driveway. Brian’s mom and stepfather were waiting on the front porch before I got all the way up the front steps. “You’re here!” Liz squealed.
She quickly hugged Brian and then pushed him aside to squeeze the life out of me. Not that she loved me more than Brian, of course; she was just excited because she knew what I’d planned.
After a quick, warm hug from Doug, they ushered us into the house. The inside was as beautifully decorated as the outside was. The Christmas tree was massive, reaching easily twelve feet high in the vaulted living room, and sure enough, there were a small pile of presents lying beneath it, waiting to be unwrapped. There were even soft carols playing and a fire roaring in the fireplace. It may as well have been Christmas Eve instead of July 25.
“You’re right on time,” Liz gushed. “I just put dinner on the table. Roast beef and mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, homemade rolls, and pumpkin pie. I’ve been cooking all day, so I hope you’re both hungry.”
“Starving,” I admitted. “It smells fantastic.”
“It smells great,” Brian agreed. “But Mom…what is going on? It’s July.”
He got no reply, because Liz had already disappeared into the formal dining room. A beautiful feast sat laid out around a lovely Christmas centerpiece, and she’d pulled out the china and the silver for the occasion. I’d never sat at a table so fancy before. “This looks wonderful, Liz.” My throat tightened at all the effort she’d put into this evening. All I’d asked her to do was set up a small Christmas tree. This was above and beyond. “Thank you for going to so much trouble.”
Liz waved us off. “No trouble at all. Come in and sit down. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
“Mom…?” Brian tried again.
He got a stern look in response that made me giggle and had him shaking his head as he pulled out a chair for me. Yup. He definitely thought his mother had lost all of her marbles.
Once we were all seated, Doug gave a blessing, and then the plates began to fill. When I complimented Liz on her excellent Christmas dinner, Brian finally couldn’t stand it anymore. “Okay, seriously. It’s July. Mom, have you gone mental?”
Liz frowned, fork halfway to her mouth and huffed, affronted. “No, I have not gone mental, son. What I have done is gone to a lot of trouble to help your extremely thoughtful girlfriend recreate the good Lord’s birthday.”
Brian turned his you’re insane stare on me. I answered it with a patronizing smile. “Haven’t you ever heard of Christmas in July? When I realized we’d scheduled this trip on July 25, I thought it might be fun to try a do-over since our first Christmas together was, in a word, awful.”
Brian’s face immediately went from skeptical to adoring. “Last Christmas was pretty bad, wasn’t it?”
After Brian’s father had ambushed us at the movie theater and mine had cast us out of his life, yeah, I’d say it was pretty horrible. “It was,” I said. “And the one before it I was coming in and out of a coma and had just lost my mother. I want a good Christmas, and I want it before the next one, just in case I’m actually cursed or something and have to break the cycle.”
Laughing, Brian leaned over and kissed my cheek. “The only thing you are cursed with is a high-maintenance boyfriend, Cinderella.”
“Very true,” I agreed.
I laughed to myself when Brian rolled his eyes at my easy agreement and finally dug into the food on his plate. People always joked that I had Brian whipped, but in reality, I was just slightly more stubborn. We argued now as much as we ever had as Internet buddies, except now we did it vocally instead of via e-mail. Brian was a man very used to being adored by everyone and always getting his way. He would forever make demands and expect people to cater to him.
The last seven months that we’d been a couple had been a learning process for me. The trick was figuring out when I needed to stroke that fragile ego of his and when I needed to knock it down a peg. The fact that I was as stubborn as a mule and, okay, maybe a little self-righteous, was, oddly enough, one of the reasons we worked so well as a couple. He needed someone who would push back instead of just rolling over to his demands like everyone else. I never had a problem pushing back. I was always pretty quick to apologize or forgive, too, which may have been my saving grace.
“So, how was Boston?” Doug asked.
I couldn’t help the grin that escaped me. Things got so crazy so fast for me that I never did end up getting Brian a gift for Christmas. It had been Valentine’s Day when he finally pulled out his gifts to me and demanded I take them. One of them had been a trip back East. He said he wanted to be properly introduced to Mama, Abuela, and Papa. We’d had to wait until filming was wrapped on The Scarlet Pimpernel, but in June we finally managed to go back home. “It was amazing,” I admitted. “I didn’t realize how much I missed the East Coast. It was nice to go back home. We even got in touch with a few of my old friends from high school. It felt a little like visiting a dream, but I got to say good-bye. The closure was good for me.”
“Plus, the Red Sox won the game we went to, so Ellamara was a happy camper the whole trip, and when she was back there, her accent came back really heavy. It was adorable.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. His infatuation with my Boston accent was laughable. He’d spent most of the trip giggling and making me say different words.
“And how’s the autobiography coming along?” Liz asked.
I nodded my head as I cleared my mouth of food. “Really good. I’ve been working with a non-fiction writer who’s done several celebrity biographies. I’ve learned a lot from him, and Dr. Parish has helped me, too. Putting all my experiences down on paper has made a lot of headway in my therapy sessions. I bring Dr. Parish each new chapter as I write it, she overanalyzes every single sentence, I use up a whole box of tissue, and somehow I feel just a little bit better after each session. By the time the book is done, I might just be a fully-functioning, well-adjusted, mentally stable woman.”
Liz and Doug both stopped eating to blink at me, but Brian snorted, not surprised in the least that I was joking about my therapy and my mental health. The thing is, I’d found that humor is the best medicine, and while I had a lot of things to work through, it was easier to deal with them if I could joke about it. Besides, I really had made a lot of progress with Dr. Parish. Things weren’t so touchy for me anymore. Even my relationship with my father was getting pretty solid.
“No one with your temper could ever be called well-adjusted,” Brian said.
It was my turn to roll my eyes at him, even if he did have a point. A small one.
After dinner, we all decided we were way too full and needed to take a break before eating pie, so we headed into the living room to relax. Brian and I sat down on the loveseat, while Doug sat on the sofa, and Liz headed to the Christmas tree to grab the gifts and hand them out. She flashed Brian the biggest smile when she handed him the small square box with his name on it. He read the To: Cinder From: Ella on the tag and chuckled. “You really did go all out for this, didn’t you?” he asked me.
I shrugged, and he pulled me to him for a kiss.
“I’m surprised you managed to find something for me,” he teased. “Have you been looking this entire time? Because you know there’s only five months until next Christmas, and my birthday is only three weeks away.”
That earned him a groan. “Don’t remind me. We’ll just say this one counts for your birthday and Christmas for the next fifty years.”
He laughed again and started to open it, but I stopped him. “Wait. Let your mom and Doug open theirs first.”
They each had large poster-size frames that I’d gift wrapped and sent ahead of time. Liz said Doug had been going crazy with curiosity for weeks, but I had their word that neither of them had peeked. Doug wasted no time tearing the paper off his gift. His lifted eyebrows and slack jaw when he saw the framed Green Bay Packers jersey signed by the entire team made me grin. “Is this the whole team?”
I nodded proudly. “From last season, yeah.”
Doug blinked at me in shock, and Brian shot to his feet to go get a better look at Doug’s gift. “What? You thought of something this awesome for Doug and couldn’t even think of a single thing for me? Dude. I want one of these.”
Liz and I shared a look as we both laughed. Men and their sports. I loved my Red Sox on principle and enjoyed a game here or there, but the obsession that guys seemed to have with sports had always escaped me. Liz didn’t really understand it, either, but she found the men’s giddy excitement over the prized jersey as endearing as I did.
“This is incredible, Ella,” Doug said. “Thank you so much. How did you get this?”
“And why didn’t you get me one, too?” Brian said, pouting at the small box in his hand that clearly didn’t hold a signed football jersey.
Rolling my eyes at Brian, I shrugged. “Well, I tried to get season tickets first, but apparently there’s been a waitlist for those since like 1960 or something, and no amount money or celebrity status could get them to put you on the top of the list. Believe me. I called and asked about it.”
Doug blinked again, and Brian laughed. “And you call me a diva.”
“I was not a diva about it. I simply asked if there was anything they could do to help me out, and when they said no, I said thanks and asked about getting something signed instead. They were happy to send this after I asked if The Adventures of Cinder & Ella could come visit them during pre-season camp and highlight them on our web series.”
Brian’s head snapped to me, eyes shining with childlike excitement. “What? You did? Did they say yes?”
I laughed again. “They were very flattered to learn that Brian Oliver was a huge fan and honored to be Cinder and Ella’s first adventure into professional sports. I may have to shake some pom-poms in a Green Bay cheerleading outfit and you might get creamed by their offensive line once or twice, but yes, this week, Cinder and Ella are going to a day at training camp with the Green Bay Packers. They’ve invited Doug and Liz as well.”
After a shared look of shocked excitement with Doug, Brian was back across the room in two giant steps and scooped me into his arms, carefully holding me against his chest as he lifted me off the ground and twirled me around once. “You beautiful woman! You are the best girlfriend ever.”
“I know. Now put me down so Liz can open her gift, too.”
After Brian and I were seated again, which didn’t happen until after he’d kissed me enthusiastically enough to make me blush, he pulled me tightly to his side and turned his attention to his mother.
The look on her face before she tore the paper away from her gift suggested she was a little worried there might be a second signed football jersey waiting for her. Her gasp when she saw what it was was worth it. “Oh, Ella!” She covered her mouth with her hand, and tears pooled in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful.”
She held the large framed collage from our fairy-tale photo session with Nash Wilson up to show Doug and Brian. The photos had turned out more magical than I could have imagined. We’d gone to the Redwood forest in northern California for the shoot. I’d never been there before, but the place had to be one of the most mystical and wild places on Earth. It was simply breathtaking and my new favorite place in the whole world.
Doug whistled, and Brian sucked in a breath. “I want one of those, too,” he muttered.
I snickered. “Is there anything you don’t want?”
“Lots of stuff,” he said absently, his eyes locked on the picture collage. It was a combination of some of the best group shots, couples shots, and solo shots of both Brian and me. He was on his feet again and back to his mother’s side. He knelt down to get a closer look at the collage. Pointing to the frame, he shook his head. “This is not a want. I need one of these.”
My favorite picture from the entire shoot was actually one of just me. I sat atop a huge downed tree trunk in the thick of the wild forest. A single beam of sunlight penetrated the trees and shone down on me like a spotlight. Nash had given me large, pointy ears and huge, glittery gossamer wings tinted an ice blue. He’d dressed me in the tiniest little blue skirt and top that was really nothing more than a binding to cover my breasts and a skirt that would make Tinker Bell blush. He’d given my hair a wild windswept look and weaved tiny blue flowers through it. I’d never seen anyone look more beautiful. It was hard to believe the creature in the picture was me.
I was sitting in a fetal position and the picture was taken in profile, but my head was turned toward the camera, and I was looking up through my eyelashes. Nash had been right; my eyes popped, making me look magical. The greatest thing about the photo was that the rough texture of my scars was actually complemented by the bark of the old tree, making me look as if I were a part of nature itself, like some kind of forest faerie goddess. That photo was going to be the cover of my book.
Nash had unveiled the photos in his gallery in April. Mr. Buchman had helped Nash and me put together a huge event for it where I gave my first speech about my experiences and what the photos meant to me. Nash’s photos and my speech had earned us a cover and an in-depth interview in Time Magazine.
“Seriously, Ella. I have to have one of these,” Brian said again.
“Good. Now I know what to get you for your birthday.” I actually already had a different set of three framed collages for us to hang above the living room couch in the apartment.
Brian frowned. “That’s three weeks away.”
I laughed. “You’ll survive, you big, spoiled man. Why don’t you worry about the present you have now instead?”
I held up the small box that he’d set down next to me when he’d gone to look at the photos, and gave it a small shake. Brian flashed me a bright smile as he returned to my side and took the box. He started to open it again but paused and frowned at me. “I don’t have anything for you.”
I laughed. “You already gave me my gifts. Plural. Remember? A whole trip to Boston, among other things. I don’t need anything else.”
Brian’s frown deepened. “That’s not the same. I didn’t actually give you a gift last Christmas, either, if you recall. You should have told me about this do-over. I would have come up with something awesome.”
“It’s fine, Brian. I don’t need a gift.” A wry smile crossed my face, and I smugly sang the line from my new least-favorite Christmas song. “All I want for Christmas is you.”
Brian narrowed his eyes at me and squished his face up into a grimace. “Was I really that annoying?”
I burst out laughing. “Yes! For weeks. You totally deserve this. Now open your present already.”
He tore the paper off and raised his eyebrows at me when he found the signature baby-blue box from Tiffany’s. I only grinned in response to his unasked question. He opened the box and got even more curious when he found the ring box inside. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling when he opened it and frowned at the ring inside. “You got me an engagement ring?”
“Oh no,” I chirped, trying as hard as I could to keep my composure. “That’s for you to put on my finger.”
When his eyes flashed back to mine, I waggled my eyebrows. “Guess you got me something after all.”
His hand fell to his lap, ring all but forgotten as he stared at me with wide eyes. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
I brushed off the question as if it was the silliest one he’d ever asked. “Heavens, no. That’s your job. I’m just dropping a subtle hint that I might be ready for you to do that. Whenever you’re ready, of course.”
Once Brian got over his shock—which took a good fifteen seconds—his lips quirked up into a crooked smile, and he held up the ring. “This is your idea of subtle?”
“Subtle is relative. It all depends on the density of the person needing the clue.”
“I am not dense. You’re the one who refused to move in with me and gave me all those lectures about how you weren’t ready for serious grown-up things like marriage and babies.”
“Oh, I’m still not ready for the babies,” I promised quickly, ignoring the small huff of disappointment that came from Liz’s direction. “But the marriage thing I could do, and the new house, too, as soon as my lease is up and we find a place we like.”
Brian’s eyes glossed over, and his mind wandered into some fantasy of his. He’s always had this fascination with the idea of our twisted Hollywood version of the American dream. Movie premieres and awards ceremonies mixed with the kids and the white picket fence. And a cat. Not a dog. Which I happen to think is adorable. My big old strong, dominant man loves cuddly little kitties.
“We’ll call the real estate lady as soon as we get home,” Brian said. “She’ll be happy that I’m finally ready to look for a place seriously.”
He’d been on the hunt for a place that was friendlier to my needs when I’d first moved out of my father’s home, but he’d given up the search once I moved into my apartment. “We should probably wait until we get back from New Zealand,” I reminded him.
Brian was scheduled to film the rest of the Cinder Chronicles movies starting in August, right after his birthday. The first film had done so well—broken box office records—that they’d automatically green lighted the rest of the series. They were filming them all at the same time to save on production costs, which meant Brian would be on location in New Zealand, where they’d filmed the first one, for roughly the next eight months. I was going with him, of course, and I was crazy excited to get to travel out of the country for the first time in my life. We were leaving right after his birthday. I could do most of my work with my website online, and Scott would still be in L.A. to take care of anything that had to be done from home.
“Fine. But it’s the first thing on the agenda when we get back. You promise?”
“Promise.” I grinned and picked up his hand—the one still holding my engagement ring. “So, about this ring…”
Brian’s crooked smile returned, and he raised one eyebrow into an arch. “I thought you weren’t asking me to marry you.”
“I’m not.” For once, I managed a completely innocent look. “I’m simply explaining my gift to you. Read the engraving on the band.”
Brian focused on the ring, noticing for the first time that it had tiny words scrawled into the band. When he read them, his smirk grew. “And they lived happily ever after.”
I finally let myself grin the way I’d been dying to. “That is my gift to you.”
“Happily ever after?” he clarified.
I nodded, smirking again. “Assuming you quit diddling and ask me to marry you, already.”
I wiggled my hand at him as if he should stop wasting time and slip the ring on my finger. The move earned me Brian’s stern I’m-Brian-Oliver-and-I-bow-to-no-man look. “I don’t ask for things; I make demands,” he said, puffing out his chest and folding his arms tightly across his chest. “And, I’m not going to propose just because you told me to. You are so unromantic. I’m going to plan out the most creative, beautiful, epic, romantic proposal ever.”
I met his gaze and lifted an eyebrow, shaking my hand again, stubbornly waiting him out. He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms defiantly across his chest. Giggles drifted to us from across the room, but we ignored our audience, refusing to look away from each other’s stare. He broke first. “Fine,” he said with exasperation. “But I’m eating your pie for this.”
I laughed, but adrenaline shot through me as he got down on one knee in front of me and took my hand in his. I grinned at his mother over the top of his head, happier than I could ever remember being, and she beamed a brilliant smile back at me.
“Ellamara Valentina Rodriguez,” Brian purred in that deep voice that I loved so much.
When I met his gaze, he gave me the most loving smile. Maybe I’d planned this, but it was still the most perfect moment ever. I waited with bated breath to hear whatever over-the-top romantic silver-screen-worthy proposal he would come up with. He paused for a good five seconds, no doubt for dramatic effect, and then his lips twitched at the corners. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said, “Marry me, woman.” And yes, it was definitely a demand.
So much for cheesy movie romance. I actually snorted and burst into laughter, saluting him. “Yes, sir!”
When I finally settled down, Brian was still kneeling in front of me. I flashed him a grin so giddy he rolled his eyes at me as he slid the ring on my finger. I admit, I got really girly then and squealed a little bit.
Brian finally lost his composure and laughed, shaking his head as I examined the ring on my hand for a moment. “Look at that; it’s a perfect fit,” I teased.
“Shocker,” Brian deadpanned.
I laughed as he stood and pulled me to my feet. He stopped my giggles with a kiss, and that seemed to be the signal that it was okay for Liz to finally interrupt us. She tackled us before we even broke our kiss. “Oh, I’m so happy! Congratulations! I can’t believe my baby is getting married!”
The hugs and kisses and tears started and didn’t stop until Doug intervened on our behalf. “Liz, calm down. Give the poor kids a moment to themselves.”
“But Doug—”
“Liz.”
I giggled when the command actually made Brian’s mother stop her fussing. I hadn’t realized the old softy had it in him. He winked at me and then took his wife’s hand. “Why don’t we go cut the pie now?”
She huffed, but when Doug didn’t relent, she threw her hands up in defeat. “Oh, all right.”
Brian had me back in his arms before his mother was out of the room. “I love you,” he whispered.
I slid my arms around his neck. “I love you, too.”
He gave me a quick kiss and then surprised me with a frown. “Not that I didn’t love my surprise, but you really should have given me the chance to get you something, too.”
“You give me gifts all the time.”
“So?”
Brian had told me when we first got together that I should be prepared to receive gifts on a regular basis. He’d delivered on that warning. No one loved giving gifts like Brian did. I loved that he was so generous even if he did go overboard way too often. I was sure it was killing him that I’d finally had the chance to get him something when he didn’t have anything to give in return. But that had all been part of my plan, too.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, stepping out of his arms and taking his hand in mine. “There is one thing I want that you can give me tonight. If you’re really so desperate to give me a gift.”
“What?” he said eagerly. “Anything.”
A smile crept over my face as I leaned in and whispered exactly what I wanted from him. And since I knew how much he appreciated a little talk, I was very specific.
Brian sucked in a sharp breath, while I giggled again. When I pulled back, he stared at me with eyes as big as baseballs. After a moment, he swallowed hard, licking his lips as if his whole mouth were suddenly as dry as the desert. “Are you sure?”
My whole body was full of nervous flutters, but I was ready. Very, very ready. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a small kiss. “I already told you,” I said. “All I want for Christmas is you. I meant it.”
He blinked twice and then threw his mouth on mine as if he was ready to make it happen right here in the living room.
“Brian! Ella! Dessert is ready!”
Brian broke the kiss, chest heaving and eyes burning. He glanced toward the dining room and then looked back at me. The conflict in his eyes made me snicker. “It’s just pie,” I whispered.
I’d meant that eating pie wouldn’t take long, but Brian took my statement as more of an It’s okay if we skip it.
“Sorry, Mom. Ella and I have to leave,” he hollered as he scooped me into his arms. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”
Liz dashed into the living room. “What? Where are you going?”
“Somewhere where I can make wild, passionate love to my fiancée without my parents down the hall.”
I really should be used to the man by now, but I still gasped in horror, and my face turned redder than it ever had. “BRIAN!”
Liz echoed my screech. “BRIAN! Don’t be so crass!”
“Sorry, Mom.” He was so not sorry. And he was walking toward the front door. “We’ll be back in the morning, promise. Er—make that the afternoon.”
“Brian Oliver, you stop right this instant. You just got here. Your…physical needs can wait until after you at least eat your pie.”
Brian opened the front door. “They really can’t, Mom. Just put it in the fridge for me.”
“Brian!”
“Liz, I think the boy is determined,” Doug said, trying and failing not to grin.
He was definitely determined. And as much as I was horrified that his parents knew where he was taking me and why, I didn’t have the willpower to put my foot down and make him stop. I peeked over his shoulder and shot Liz an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Liz. I promise we’ll be back for lunch tomorrow, and we can talk about wedding plans.”
That seemed to appease her a little, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brian cringe. Served him right.
He walked outside, placed me in the passenger seat of our rental car, ran back to get my purse and my cane, waved to Doug, kissed his mother’s cheek, grinning at her frown of disapproval, and then jumped in the car. “Was that really necessary?” I asked when he practically peeled out of the driveway.
“Yes.” He took my hand, twining our fingers together, and brought it to his lips. “So, about the wedding…” When I looked at him with amusement, he grimaced again. “I don’t suppose you’ll be nice and let us do the Vegas thing before we leave the country? If I get a choice, I’d much rather have that for my birthday than the picture.”
I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
After a lighthearted laugh that bordered on obnoxious, I gave him my most pitying look. “Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry, but there is no way this Cinderella princess is starting her happily ever after without her fairy-tale wedding.”