Christmas With Cassandra

“Hopefully it should never come to that.”

“Hopefully, but you know how the dice like to roll.”

Of course Monica knew. She was all too familiar thanks to her life experiences so far.

“I heard that she’s going to the gala.”

“Why wouldn’t she be? Her family is practically throwing it. We go because we like the Welshes well enough. Just because Cassandra is a bit… eccentric…”

Monica took the hint he was throwing at her and hopped up on his desk. Her legs dangled on either side of his, her eyes never leaving the line of buttons dotting his collared shirt. Would it be so bad for him to take that shirt off right now?

Henry caught the look of mischief in her eyes. “Already wanting to change the subject, my lovely?”

“You had asked me to come into your office for a reason, hadn’t you?”

“Observant as always.” Henry leaned forward, slowly, his chair growling beneath his shifting weight. It made him sound like a wild animal prowling in her direction. “I know you’re busy today. So am I. So let’s make this quick, shall we?”

Hmph. Monica may not have personally dated many men, but she was confident in saying that most of them were the same. Henry had said it herself. She was observant, and she had observed plenty of men thanks to her lifestyle and the business she now ran. For fuck’s sake, Henry had winked at her when he told her to be in his office at her convenience. Of course they were both busy people at this time of year. So of course an office quickie was on the docket.

“Quick, huh?” Monica tried to fight the need already building within her. After all, there were things to tend to around the estate. She probably had some work emails to return as well. Who was Henry to call her into his office like he was some big, powerful principal and she was the misbehaving teacher still wet behind the ears?

Oh, now wouldn’t that be a fun scenario? Not that Monica was good at playing innocent. But the type of teacher she had in mind was far from innocent…

“Where in the world is that mind of yours going?” Henry leaned in toward her, a kiss barely touching her lips. Shivers jetted through her body, making a diligent beeline for her nipples and the warmth between her legs. “When I want you right here with me?”

Monica’s demure smile started off as a coy act, but ended in genuine amusement. “Fantasizing about us, sir.”

That was what he wanted to hear. Henry lightly gripped her hips and placed a delectable kiss on her lips. “As you should be. You should always be fantasizing about us.”

Monica knew there was no turning back from the first real kiss that blossomed between them. She could never say no to Henry once the idea of sex was in her head. Good thing, too. Nothing calmed her nerves and soothed her soul more than making love to her husband. Even if they only had ten minutes to spare on a busy December day.

Times like those made her so grateful that he was hers. Monica also wasn’t the jealous type, but the thought of him being with another woman, let alone fathering a child with one… a part of her wanted solid answers. Another, bigger part of her told her to leave well enough alone and enjoy what she had and could call her own.

She was a privileged woman. But someone of her background knew that the privilege could disappear any day. If 2016 had been good to her, then she dreaded what could possibly happen in the coming year.

Luckily, she had a family other women would die for… let alone her.

A Note From Your Narrator

Dear esteemed reader,

This is where our story splits and takes two very different paths. For, as I’m sure you can imagine, once Monica Warren is aware of some salacious news, it’s only a matter of time before the whole of New England knows about it.

Within two hours of Jasmine’s departure from the Warren Estate, Monica placed a timely phone call that she almost feared regretting. And by her return to work the next day, she had another conversation that would set forth a string of gossip making its way back to the west coast, from where Cassandra was currently traveling.

Ah, yes, Cassandra! By now I’m sure that you, dearest reader, are curious to know this Cassandra Welsh and discern your own truth about her. Rest assured. Your humbled narrator will get to her eventually. For how could it possibly be fun to meet the woman right away, as opposed to gathering the opinions and misconstrued facts from some of our favorite couples?

Here are the “facts” we know so far about Cassandra Welsh:

She is the only daughter of a very old, very wealthy, and very reclusive family. (Everyone who was not ignorant of her existence agrees upon this point. Let’s accept it as fact.)

She is either a waifish willow of a feminine flower or a modelesque harpy, depending on who you ask. (And their opinions will often change depending upon how their own lives are going.)

She has dated almost every eligible bachelor her age with a personal portfolio totaling hundreds of millions of dollars or greater. She’s also dated a few eligible bachelorettes. (While there are some who will deny having touched Cassandra, we can safely assume they are embarrassed liars. Because, dear readers, few men, particularly the alpha-type cads we all know and love, can deny an attraction to Cassandra. Perhaps you will soon understand why.)

Every one of these relationships has ended with someone’s heart either broken (Cassandra’s) or on the verge of collapsing if not for the intervention of hard alcohol and other loose women (everyone she’s dated.) And those who managed to scrape by with no drama are not even the types to recognize said drama, although Cassandra certainly never forgets.

Most scandalous of all are the rumors surrounding her departure from New England not so long ago. Is it true that she became pregnant from one of her many disastrous relationships? Is it true that the child was unfortunately lost, spurring her crushed soul to flee the haunting memories of her past mistakes? And if these matters are true… who is the father?

Unfortunately, we are not meant to know the answers to these questions quite yet. They are coming in due time, rest assured, but until then, we must further ponder the existence of Cassandra Welsh and what her life has meant for many of the heroes (and heroines) we have come to rely on for entertainment and a touch of humanity.

For if you and I knew the truth of the matter before any of our friends did, well, that wouldn’t be a very interesting story, now would it?

(No, it wouldn’t. That was the correct answer you were looking for. And if you did answer otherwise, well, your humbled narrator shall pretend to not have heard it. Trust me. You don’t want to know yet.)

What you do want to know is what path we shall follow first. Do we follow Monica’s phone call, or do we follow her to work?

Since the phone call came first, we shall explore that avenue of information. Let us resume our tale with one of the most unconventional couples anyone knows… let alone Monica Warren, who never knows what to expect when she calls upon these certain friends and clients.

(But we have a pretty good idea what to expect, don’t we?)

Scene 6

The Andrews

Few people understood the extent to which the Andrews were willing to get a building renovated on time. This extended to their own office building, which – besides their house – was the one piece of property they were hell bent on never letting go of. Unless the right price came along, of course.

But holding on to a building for a long time meant renovations had to be made eventually. Times changed, and Lana Andrews would not have potential business partners and real estate investors show up to an executive office that reeked of 2006 sensibilities. (Even if she really, really liked the furniture she made billions of dollars on. Oh well. It had to go!)

As usual for renovations, however, everything was woefully behind schedule. With Christmas holidays coming up and the contractors insisting on taking “time off” or whatever, Lana convinced husband Ken to keep working through the renovations so they could be renovated on time.

Both of them knew what a terrible idea that was. And yet…

“I said that our lawyer just called and wants to meet tomorrow!” Lana shouted to her husband on the other side of their shared executive sitting area. Their offices, finished with their renovations while the crew took on the receiving areas, boasted open doors but way too much noise – because the double doors to this area were removed for replacement, and the audacious sounds of drills, hammers, and crewmen yelling at one another dominated the workspace. (But at least the evils of having to wear masks and hardhats whenever they went to the bathroom were over with.)

Ken held his hand up to his ear and gave his wife one of the most disgruntled shrugs he had ever gifted the world. Grumbling, Lana pulled out her cell phone and texted her husband the news. He picked up his own phone right away and gave her a thumbs up.

“This is ridiculous,” Lana muttered. She had half a mind to go out there and demand that the foreman somehow quiet things down, but that only worked if she was already in a good mood… or the foreman was really cute. Neither were the case today.

She blew her husband a half-assed kiss before retreating into her office and cranking up the noise machine. A woman would much rather listen to whales whining at the tops of their lungs as opposed to the rabble going on beyond her (supposedly soundproofed, but so much for that) door. Besides, she was expecting a few other phone calls anyway.