Modern Love {A Cinderella Retelling}

Chapter Seven

Aston Ran back to the house and before his dad finished the meeting, he walked over to his sister who'd been flipping through the pages of Amelia's manuscript. He came up to her and whispered something in her ear. Stella looked at him, flabbergasted.

"Will you excuse us dad?" Stella asked.

"Go ahead, we're just about to wrap things up," Alaric stated.

Aston and Stella left the living room and up to the second floor.

"Now what is it you want?" Stella questioned.

"I think Brock has a crush on Amelia," Aston responded.

"There's no way some gorgeous girl like that would be interested in someone like him," Stella scoffed.

"I don't know, she sure seems into him," Aston responded despite his gut wrenching feeling of being jealous.

He turned bright red and wished that he could hide it from his sister but the minute that she saw his facial reaction and how quiet he got she smirked.

"No way, you like Amelia?" Stella asked.

Aston shrugged. Stella laughed.

"Then I guess we need to figure out how to stop this," Stella said thoughtfully.

*~*~*~*

Amelia smiled, listening to Brock play he was really talented. Of course, she couldn't think of anyone else. She could feel in her heart that Brock was her missing piece. Hell, she thought seriously about inviting him to her book release party. Alaric already planned to publish her book. Even her friends were already planning it. She waited until Brock was done and looked at her watch. It was beginning to get late. Although, she figured that it would be best if they contacted each other again.

"Do you have a phone number?" Amelia asked.

"I do, why?" Brock wondered.

She could see the smile on his face.

"Well, that way I can contact you and we can hang out," Amelia continued. "I want to at least keep in contact,"

Amelia pulled out her iPhone 11 and logged in. The novelist opened her contacts and handed it over. Brock instantly took it and put in his number. Amelia was glad that she finally had someone else to talk to. She took her phone back and stuffed it into her purse. Standing up the two hugged and pulled apart.

"Hey, before I go," Amelia started.

Brock put his guitar against the stand.

"My friends are throwing me a book release party," She explained. "I was wondering if you'd like to go?"

*~*~*~*

Brock hesitated. He'd never been invited to a party before, so this was his first time.

"Me? At the party?" Brock questioned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Amelia responded. "Maybe it'll give us a chance to get to know each other,"

"I don't see why not," Brock answered.

"That's great! I'll have Noah text you all the deeds!" Amelia exclaimed. She kissed him on the cheek before walking out of the barn.

*~*~*~*

Noah stared out the window and noticed a black SUV casually driving by. Since they've been there, he counted six times the vehicle passed by. It was strange. Something just didn't add up. Petra came out of the kitchen with a small glass of water, she had since tied her light brown hair into a ponytail, approaching Noah, she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Noah? What's up?" she asked. "You've been staring out that window for a while,"

Noah turned to look at her, his blue eyes full of worry.

"Petra, do you see that black SUV?" he asked.

Petra walked over and sure enough she saw the car as well. Her stomach lurched.

"How long has it been there?" she questioned.

"I don't know, all I know is that it's been around six times," Noah responded. "Come on we need to get Amelia and leave," he continued. "We still got a party to plan,"

On cue, Amelia entered the house. She had a strange look on her face. Noah wondered what was happening. Then he remembered Brock, Petra, and Noah locked eyes; They seemed to be thinking the same thing. Not willing to worry her, Noah and Petra walked out of the house saying their fair wells to Alaric.

*~*~*~*

Alaric watched as his new client walked out of his house. Everything was starting to fall into place. He hoped that Amelia would be the next best thing. It was something he'd been hoping for since he landed the job at Porthouse Publishing. Although, across the street he saw the black SUV. Unhappy with the sight, he closed the door and pretended that he didn't see it.

Alaric always believed that he'd be able to create his own publishing house and get his own clients. Porthouse Publishing was his only option right now. It also didn't help that Brock was starting to become a pain in his ass. He knew what the kid was doing, watching Amelia, and creating conversation. Not to mention, Amelia was downright gorgeous, and it made things hard for his son to focus. Brock rubbed his shaved chin and thought back to when he first married Brock's mother. His dark brown eyes swam with thought. Until realization hit. With his own kids upstairs doing God knows what, he made his way out to the barn.

He passed by the goats and sheep as well as the cows until he arrived at the large red barn which housed his stepson. If something was going on between Amelia and Brock, he was going to find out one way or the other. No way was he going to let Brock ruin anything.

Alaric gave a loud thump of the door waiting for his stepson to answer. When he did not, Alaric did the next best thing and pushed the doors open to find Brock cleaning his guitar.

"Brock?" Alaric said.

Brock paused and looked up. He remained calm. And tried not to show a lick of fear.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Brock asked. "I was in here the entire time, I know how much you don't want to be bothered,"

"I mean what the hell were you doing? Spilling all that food all over our guests?" Alaric crossed his arms.

"I wouldn't have if your bastard of a son didn't trip me!" Brock exclaimed and placed his guitar back on the stand.

Alaric disliked how Brock talked back to him.

"You want to say that to me again with more respect?" Alaric warned.

"Oh, I'm sorry did you not hear me?" Brock spoke sarcastically. "Or are you too dumb to hear what I said?" Angered. Alaric stormed over to Brock and grabbed the guitar from him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Brock demanded and tried to grab it from Alaric's grasp.

Alaric held it away from him.

"What I should have done a long time ago," Alaric started. "I'm taking this guitar from you, and you are going to work double tomorrow. Oh, and if I were you, I'd stay away from Amelia," he turned and walked toward the door. "Hey Brock, the dishes need to be done, I'll give you a full list of things that I need you to do,"

With that, he slammed the door.