6. A Cinderella Fan
A CINDERELLA FAN
WILLOW
“W ho gave us these tickets again?” Violet asks, side-eyeing Daisy the moment Quill and Grandpa Will are out of earshot.
The man, I’ve come to know, isn’t Quill’s real grandpa but an honorary grandfather to the family, who—apparently—has a special working relationship with Raymond Teager.
“Vi, the answer hasn’t changed since the last five times you asked. It’s still Raymond.” Daisy huffs, visibly losing patience.
I understand Daisy’s agitation. Violet’s been circling this conversation like a dog with a bone. But I don’t blame Vi either. For once, her relentless enthusiasm is almost warranted.
“I needed confirmation, okay?” Violet bites her lip. “And Quill is his daughter ?” Her voice rises an octave, as if she’s trying to validate some earth-shattering scandal.
When Daisy nods, clearly done with this conversation, Vi pulls out her phone and starts typing furiously, thumbs flying across the screen like her life depends on it.
“What are you doing?” I lean in but I’m unable to catch anything.
Her head jerks to my face, still bent forward, watching her screen. “I just found out the biggest news of Cherrywood. Raymond Teager, the elusive billionaire ‘bachelor’”—Vi makes air quotes on her last word—“has a daughter. And no one knows! Do you really expect me to sit here and do nothing? It’s like finding out Santa Claus is real and saying, ‘Good to know, but I don’t care.’”
Daisy rises from where she’s lazing on the recliner, as fast as her pregnant belly will allow, and turns to Violet. “Vi, you cannot?—”
“Calm down, Daze. I’m not discussing Quill with any of my journalist friends. I’m not stupid.” Violet rolls her eyes dramatically. “If Raymond went to all the trouble of hiding her, I’m sure he has his reasons. I’m just digging online.” She waves her phone at us like it’s a golden ticket. “But guess what? There’s literally nothing. No articles, no photos.”
Out of all of us, Vi is the quirkiest, like an eager puppy chasing after the shiniest object, even if it’s about to smack her in the face.
But who am I to judge on this matter?
I’ve been deep diving into every Google result about Raymond since that Ferris wheel incident. And I came up with zilch—no mention of a daughter or even an old flame. It’s like that man is a damn magician when it comes to making everything about his personal life disappear.
Violet nods as if reading my thoughts. “And here’s the real kicker—Raymond’s never been seen with anyone. Like, ever. The few times he’s been spotted with women, they’re always models who are already engaged or dating someone else. How does a guy like that keep a kid a secret?”
Leave it to Violet to know every juicy detail about the rich and famous. She could dig up dirt on the Pope if she wanted to. Honestly, I can’t imagine her doing anything other than writing gossip columns. And her column might not be winning any Pulitzer Prizes, but her follower count could rival Oprah’s.
“There’s this little thing called privacy, Vi,” Elodie says, rising from her lounge chair and walking over to us. “A few people still appreciate it, you know.”
“Which, of course, our very own Gossip Girl doesn’t care about,” I tease, grinning as Elodie playfully musses Vi’s hair. She preferred the floor, ignoring the ottoman right next to her.
“But”—Elodie slides beside me as we face Daisy—“I’m kind of with Vi on this one. How could Raymond keep something like this a secret for so long? Quill’s what—five? Six?”
“She hasn’t been with Raymond that long,” Daisy mutters under her breath, instantly catching all of our attention.
I lean forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Daisy shifts in her seat. I’m sure she’s not a fan of this probing session. “I don’t know all the details, okay? What I do know is that Quill has no other family except for him. She came into Ray’s life only a few months ago. But since then, he’s completely wrapped around her finger. He loves his daughter and is extremely protective of her. God, you should see him with her—he’s like a different person. Playing tea parties and everything.”
I blink. Did she say tea parties ?
I try to picture Raymond Teager—the man who practically eats boardrooms for breakfast—sitting on the floor, sipping imaginary tea from a plastic cup, and nearly snort at the image.
“And yet, he sent her off with us, practically strangers?” I raise an eyebrow.
Elodie nudges me with her elbow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Come on, Wills. I don’t think anyone would accuse you of being a stranger in Raymond Teager’s world.”
I shoot her a mock glare. Yeah, my friends have seen me plotting Raymond’s murder more times in the last few months than I’m proud of.
“Not funny, El,” I mutter, sticking out my tongue at her. “There’s more to this. There has to be.”
Daisy throws her hands up, clearly done with the conversation. “You’re all overthinking it. Raymond gave us those tickets because he wanted his daughter to have fun and some girl time. That’s all. I know you and he aren’t exactly friends, Wills, but he’s not a monster.”
Yeah, even she doesn’t sound fully convinced saying that.
“I don’t buy it,” I say, crossing my arms. “There’s no way?—”
“Shh. They’re back.” Elodie stops me from saying another word.
We all straighten up like we haven’t been gossiping about Raymond Teager’s entire life.
Quill trots toward us, ice cream in hand, with Grandpa Will trailing behind. And, of course, the spa manager, Laine, isn’t far. She’s been glued to our group since we arrived, mostly hovering around Quill. Turns out, she’s also a certified ASL instructor. A weird mix of admiration and confusion swirls inside me when I think about Raymond—the dad not the businessman.
“How are we doing, ladies?” Laine glides over with the kind of energy that screams, I love my job and you’re about to love me for it.
And of course, we respond with a unified squeal. “Amazing.”
Daisy groans. “I can’t wait to close my eyes and get all pampered.”
“Perfect.” Laine beams. “Now, I’m going to split you up for a short while. Two of you will head for the massage room, one person will go for facials, and one of you is the lucky lady to join Quill at our nail salon.”
“Oh, I’ll join Quill.” Daisy immediately straightens up and squares her shoulders. There’s no doubt she feels responsible for Quill.
“How about you go for the facials while I join Quill. Only if it’s okay with her?” I provide, looking between Quill, Grandpa Will, Daisy, and Laine.
I’m not just doing this because I think Daisy will relax more while getting a facial but also because I genuinely like Quill. In our short time together, I’ve kind of realized this kid is possibly the most awesome one I’ve ever met. But…her dad and I are sworn business rivals. And last I checked, “mortal enemies” wasn’t exactly the best foundation for casual playdates. So, even if I like Quill, I’m not going to get too many chances to hang out with her.
“I think it’s a great idea.” Grandpa Will smiles gratefully before turning to Quill. “What do you think, Bug? Would you like to join Miss Pershing?”
“Maybe we can get matching nails,” I suggest, wiggling my fingers in the air.
Quill’s face lights up like I promised her a pony, and she’s nodding so enthusiastically I think her head might fly off.
“Perfect!” Laine claps her hands. “You ladies enjoy your massages, and we’ll handle some serious nail business.”
A few moments later, Quill and I find ourselves at the manicure tables, my chipped, sad excuse for nail polish on full display. And because the universe has a sense of humor, the young woman across from Quill has nails so perfect they practically sparkle in the fluorescent lights.
“Do you have a preference on color or design?” the manicurist, Laurie—as stated by her name tag—asks, looking sweet and eager.
But when Quill shakes her head and taps her index and middle finger together with her thumb, signing, “No,” Laurie freezes like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
For the first time all day, I’m left stunned. Everything had been running smoothly, with Laine sticking close to us, I never stopped to think about how everyday tasks might be different for Quill. But now, reality hits me—Raymond has been ten steps ahead, making sure his daughter didn’t face unnecessary obstacles. This moment, though, is an unplanned hiccup. Laine is gone, Grandpa Will is nowhere in sight, and I can already see Quill about to clam up.
“She said no,” I say with a smile, trying to smooth things over.
Laurie lets out a nervous breath, her eyes flitting between us. “Okay, um, would you like to see some nail art designs? We’ve got special ones for kids.”
But Quill has lost all interest. Her head hangs low, and she looks like the saddest kid I’ve ever seen.
Laurie’s eyes dart back to me. “I’m really sorry.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It’s my first day here. Actually, my first day on any job. I just finished my course.”
Bless her heart. This sweet girl is about to have a breakdown, and she doesn’t even know Quill is her boss’s daughter.
“Can you give us a minute, Laurie?” I ask gently.
Her eyes widen as if I’ve told her she’s failed her first test. “Oh no, I’m really good?—”
“Laurie, you’re doing great.” I throw her a reassuring smile. “Quill just needs a little time to think. We’re good, I promise.”
She finally takes the hint, giving Quill a tentative smile, who of course is busy learning all the minute details about the floor design right now.
As soon as Laurie’s out of earshot, I turn to Quill. “Hey, you okay there?”
She glances around the empty room, then looks at me with those curious big eyes. And then—holy hell—she speaks. Out loud. “Yeah.”
My brain short-circuits. Did that just happen?
Out of all the people in the world—including her doting dad—she decided I , a practical stranger, am worth breaking her silence for!
Before I can fully process it, she reaches out and touches my sunflower bracelet. “I like your jewelry.”
I need another minute to shake off the shock. “Um…thanks, kiddo. I’ll get you one next time I go shopping. Would you like that?”
Her face lights up like I’ve promised her the moon. “Really?”
Quill’s smile is the kind that makes you want to wrap her in bubble wrap and guard her from the world. But my gaze snags on something behind her—a glimpse of Grandpa Will through the open window, his usually stoic face full of surprise and awe right now. I don’t think the gentleman was intentionally eavesdropping on Quill and me.
Did he just hear her speak for the first time?
Our eyes meet, and he gives me a small, almost reverent smile before stepping back.
I quickly focus on Quill again, hoping she didn’t catch that.
“So, what’s your favorite color?” I ask, trying to bring the moment back to her.
“Green,” she replies softly.
“Green’s awesome. How about we paint our nails green? You and me, matching.”
“You too?” Her eyes are big with excitement.
“Of course.” I grin. “We’re friends, right? Friends do samesies.”
Her lips curl so wide, I think my heart might burst.
“What about nail art? Do you want something fun? Maybe a little feather to go with your name?”
Her face lights up even more, if that’s possible. “A feather! Did you know quills are also used for writing? My dad told me that.”
I nod, my heart catching in my throat. “You’ve got an amazing dad.”
And despite every grudge I hold, it’s the absolute truth. Raymond Teager might be the most obnoxious businessman and a thorn in my side, but he’s a damn good dad.
“One day, I want to write stories with a quill. Like Little Women. Dad’s reading it to me.”
My heart lurches again, this time from the realization that this girl—Raymond’s daughter—is more like a tiny wise old soul.
“Quill, my tiny surprise packet! Are you seriously reading a big person’s book?”
She nods proudly. “Dad reads it to me every night.”
“Every night?” I ask, feeling guilty for spying on Raymond through Quill. And I know I’m going to have dreams about this version of Raymond—the one who reads storybooks to his daughter.
“Uh-huh. But he skips the long parts.” She wrinkles her nose. “I think he likes Cinderella more than Jo and Meg.”
I snort. I’m sure Raymond is just trying to get his daughter to read more kid-appropriate books than such heavy literature.
A knock at the door interrupts us, and Laine pops her head in, looking frazzled. “Hey, sorry about that. Laurie wasn’t supposed to be working this room today. We mixed up the schedule.”
Her usual confident smile is nowhere to be found, and I know exactly why. If Raymond hears about this mix-up, there will be hell to pay.
“It’s all good. Quill and I had a nice little chat. Didn’t we, Quillbug?”
Quill nods, and I throw Laine a reassuring smile. I’m not ratting her out to Raymond.
Laine visibly relaxes, her shoulders sagging in relief. “Thanks, Willow. I owe you a ton.”