by I. T. Lucas
“About what?”
“About the apartment he took me to. It was brand new, and in a newly renovated building that no one lived in. He said that he’s supposed to show it to prospective clients, but that was a bullshit story. I don’t know why he lied about it.”
Geraldine pulled out a stool next to Cassandra and leaned her elbows on the counter. “And yet you spent the night with him.”
There was no disapproval in her mother’s tone, only curiosity.
“I felt so guilty and grateful as well. He saved me from the flying shards, and his expensive suit got ruined. I don’t know how he didn’t get injured, but he could have, and he did it to protect me.” She lifted her hands. “How could I have denied him after that?”
Her mother gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m sure that gratitude was your only motive to hop into bed with that gorgeous hunk of a man.”
Cassandra’s lips twitched with a stifled smile. “Well, there was that too.”
“How was it?”
The thing about having a young, unconventional mother was that they were more like sisters and could talk about everything. And that was also a problem. Cassandra didn’t want to discuss her sex life with Geraldine, but her mother would be offended if she brushed her off.
She had to give her something. “Spectacular. I feel so calm.” She put a hand over her chest. “Instead of a stormy sea, it’s a placid lake in here.”
It was as if all of her excess energy had gotten discharged when her body had detonated with one climax after the other.
Geraldine laughed. “That’s your cure, Cassy. You don’t need relaxants or meditation, just great sex with Onegus.”
52
Onegus
“You are home early.” Connor removed his headphones. “I didn’t make anything today.” He tapped his finger on his tablet. “Brandon gave a mile-long list of things he didn’t like about my score for The Destroyer. Until I’m done, it’s going to be sandwiches from the café.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Onegus walked up to the fridge and pulled out a beer. “I wish I could tell you that I’ll take over the cooking, but I’m moving into the new building on Thursday, and I’m going to stay there until the festivities are over.”
Connor smirked. “Not to mention the new lady friend you’re seeing. What’s her name?”
The guy was the epitome of a busybody, but he wasn’t a distributor of gossip, only a collector. Onegus trusted his roommate not to spread rumors about the new lady in his life.
“Cassandra Beaumont. She works for Kevin Brunswick, the founder of Fifty Shades of Beauty. His company donates cosmetics to the sanctuary and halfway house, and he’s also contributing funds to the charity.”
“Is he related to Josephine Brunswick, the cellist?”
“He’s her husband.”
“I know her. She’s a sweetheart.” Connor shook his head. “Dating a lady who works for one of our contributors is dangerous. She’s not just a random chick you picked up in a club.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
Connor eyed him with speculation gleaming in his smart eyes. “She must be something. Since you and I moved in together, it’s the first time I’ve seen you return from a date in the morning, and you are done with work early the second day in a row, which means that you are taking her out again. You’re asking for trouble.”
“I know what I’m doing.” Onegus pointed with the bottle. “I thought that you were pressed for time. Go back to your composition.”
“Just don’t fall for her.” Connor put the headphones back on.
Onegus had never fallen for a woman before, and he wasn’t about to now. Cassandra was one of a kind, but if she wasn’t a Dormant, he had no business pursuing a relationship with her.
And even if she was a Dormant, she wasn’t necessarily his one and only. Hell, he had no desire to get shackled with a mate, and not for the reason other males avoided commitment. Giving up other females would be a relief rather than a hardship, but he liked his autonomy. Having to share everything with another, to not be able to just get up and go when he pleased, and for whatever reason, that was definitely a hardship.
It was crippling. He’d seen it happening to all of his head Guardians. So yeah, the bastards were happy, but that happiness came at a price. For them, the gain must have been worth much more than the pain, but for him it was the opposite.
That being said, it wasn’t going to be easy to let Cassandra go.
They clicked, and it wasn’t just physical, although sex with her had seriously rocked his world. He liked her assertiveness, her no-nonsense attitude, her work ethic, her drive, her talent…
Damn, there was a lot to like about Cassandra Beaumont. So much so that he was inclined to reevaluate his gain versus pain ratio. She felt different than other women he’d been with, and that strange energy field she emitted might be an indicator that she was more than just human.
It was worth investigating, and it gave him a good excuse for seeing her again.
Walking toward his bedroom, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number.
“Hello,” she answered after six or seven rings, pretending once again that she hadn’t recognized his number.
He could play along. “Hello, beautiful. Are you still at work?”
“I’m home, but I brought work with me.”
“Can you take a break?” Onegus sat on the bed and leaned his elbow on his knee.
“To do what?”
He couldn’t thrall her again so soon, but he needed to be with her again, see that perfect body of hers naked and writhing in pleasure. He should have enough self-control to hold off biting her until the next day.
“I can come to your place and bring takeout, or we can go out.”
“How about I come to your place instead? Not that apartment you took me to yesterday, but your real home.”
Aha, so that was what she was after. She still doubted him and wanted to make sure that he didn’t have another woman in his life.
“I thought that you were short on time.”
“Do you live far away?”
“Quite. It’s an hour’s drive. Besides, I have a nosy roommate who thinks that he’s my mother and asks too many questions.”
“He sounds like fun. In fact, I would love to meet him.”
Onegus’s suspicions were confirmed. Cassandra either didn’t believe that he actually had a roommate or didn’t believe that his roommate was a he and not a she.
“I can put him on the phone.” Onegus rose to his feet and walked back to the living room. “His name is Connor.”
“What about me?” Connor took the headphones off.
“Cassandra wants to talk to you.” He activated the speaker function.
“About?”
Onegus shrugged. “I think that she doesn’t believe me that you are a guy.”
“I didn’t say that,” Cassandra bristled.
He put the phone on top of Connor’s tablet.
“Hello, Cassandra. As you can tell by my voice, I am male, but if you want, we can switch to Zoom, and you can see my handsome face. I’m much better looking than this giant brute.”
“I’m sure you are.” Cassandra’s tone lost its edge. “But I’m in my pajamas, and my hair is a mess, so no video.”
“That’s such a damn shame.” Connor looked the picture of disappointment. “I was just joking about being better looking than my brawny, blond-haired, blue-eyed housemate.” He cleared his throat for emphasis. “I was curious to see the lady who has him wrapped around her little finger.”
Onegus shook his head. It had been a mistake to give the phone to Connor.
She laughed. “He’s too big to fit around my little finger.”
Connor barked out a snort. “If I value my life, I’m not going to respond to that. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I know your boss’s wife. If you see Josephine, tell her that Connor says hi.”
“How did you meet her?”
“Josie is amazing. She’ll be tickled silly that you are Onegus’s roommate.”
“Housemate. We don’t share the same room. That would be just awkward.”
Cassandra chuckled. “Naturally.”
“Say goodbye, Connor.” Onegus took the phone back.
“Goodbye, Cassandra.”
“Bye, Connor. It was nice talking to you.”
Onegus turned the speakerphone off. “Are you convinced now?”
“I didn’t doubt you before.”
He laughed. “Liar. Ask your mom what kind of takeout she wants.”
“You are serious. You want to eat dinner with my mother and me.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Chinese. My mom loves Chinese food. Orange chicken is her favorite.”
“Chinese it is. I’ll be there at eight.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
When he ended the call, Connor was still grinning at him. “She sounds nice. Do you have a picture?”
“I do.” Onegus pulled out one that he’d taken on the beach and handed the phone to Connor.
Connor whistled. “She’s a knockout. No wonder you are smitten.” He enlarged the photo with two fingers. “But she looks a little bitchy, pardon my French.” He handed the phone back.
“I admit that Cassandra has an attitude, but that’s one of the many things I like about her. She has spunk.”
“A spunky lady to spank.” Connor waggled his brows.
“Pervert.” Onegus turned around to hide his smile, that and the erection that had popped up behind his zipper as he imagined his hand on Cassandra’s perfectly rounded bottom.
53
Cassandra
Cassandra absentmindedly sketched the layout for the cover of the brochure that would go in next month’s Surprise Box, years of honing her skills making it possible for her to create while her mind was busy elsewhere.
She knew what the finished product should look like even before putting down the first stroke, and it was just a matter of tweaking the layout and the colors, choosing photos, and adding flourishes.
Despite the calm that usually accompanied her creative work, an echo of unease churned in Cassandra’s stomach, and she couldn’t figure out what it was. It had something to do with Onegus, something she knew that she should remember and couldn’t. The feeling was like trying to recollect a line from a movie, or an actor’s name that was on the tip of her tongue yet eluded her.
Had he said something she couldn’t remember?
It felt like it was something important, and not being able to bring it up terrified her.
As panic threatened to choke her, Cassandra tried to beat it down by reciting the self-reaffirming convictions that usually helped in situations like that.
Her mind was orderly and sharp. She wasn’t going to end up like her mother, losing entire chunks of her past or hours from her day. Her mother’s memory issues were the result of head trauma. Cassandra’s were just ordinary memory lapses everyone experienced from time to time.
Sometimes, though, she wondered whether Geraldine hadn’t invented the trauma and resulting amnesia as well. It had happened long before Cassandra had been born, and given how young her mother was, it must have happened when Geraldine was still a child. She claimed not to remember her family, and yet she’d never mentioned a foster home or an orphanage either. Someone must have taken care of her, a child who’d had to relearn everything from scratch, including language.
When Geraldine mentioned it, which she rarely did, she talked about it as if she’d been an adult while it happened.
Heck, who knew? Her mother refused to reveal her age, claiming that a lady never should, but maybe she was in her fifties and only looked young?
Perhaps crazy people aged slower?
It was frustrating to know so little about the most important person in her life and the only family she had, or rather knew of. But whenever Cassandra complained, her mother just hugged and kissed her and said that 'love is what matters and everything else is just background noise.'
Respecting her mother’s wishes, Cassandra hadn’t dug into Geraldine’s past even though she’d been tempted. When she’d started making good money, she’d even thought about hiring a private eye to look into it, mainly because she wanted to find out whether she had any family out there. But doing so behind her mother’s back felt wrong. It would have been a huge betrayal of trust, and her mother didn’t deserve that from her.
The woman had dedicated her life to raising Cassandra as best as she could, finding work that she could do from home and doing most of it at night, so her child wouldn’t have to fend for herself during the day.
Whatever dark secrets her mother hid from the world and from herself, they belonged to her.
As someone who had her own skeletons in her proverbial closet, secrets that she couldn’t share with anyone, she had no problem walking a mile in her mother’s shoes. Cassandra wouldn’t have wanted anyone digging into them or forcing her to seek psychological help.
The difference was that Geraldine knew her darkest secret, but Cassandra didn’t know her mother’s.
Perhaps that was how it was supposed to be.
If she ever had children, Cassandra would do her best to hide her witchy powers from them. Until she learned to control that energy, though, she had no business having kids. What if she got angry or frustrated and hurt them?
The thought was terrifying enough to consider getting her tubes tied.
“Cassy.” Geraldine peeked into her study. “You should get ready. It’s quarter to eight.”
She glanced down at her jeans and flip flops. “I am ready. We are not going out. It’s just a takeout dinner at home.”
Her mother shook her head. “At least change your T-shirt. You have paint smudges all over it.”
She chuckled. “It’s not smudges, Mom. It’s the shirt’s design. I got it on sale, but the original price was close to two hundred dollars.”
Geraldine’s expression was doubtful. “If you say so. Just wear something nice for Onegus. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but a lady does not accept guests in flip-flops and jeans.”
Her mother sometimes seemed to forget what era they were living in, but arguing with her would only upset her and make things worse. The memory issues became much more obvious when Geraldine was upset.
“You have such old-fashioned ideas about propriety, but fine. I’ll change.”
Her mother beamed happily. “Now, was that so hard to do?”
“Not at all.” Cassandra pushed to her feet. “Just do me a favor and don’t spin tall tales or embarrass me in any way during dinner.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her mother pushed her chin out. “It’s one thing to talk freely and joke around with my daughter, and it’s another thing altogether to do so in front of a gentleman caller. I plan to be the perfect hostess.”
Cassandra stifled the urge to roll her eyes.
Her mother had embarrassed her plenty of times in front of her friends from school, until she’d stopped inviting them over.
“Since I’ve never had a gentleman caller before, you don’t have practice being the perfect hostess, and your book club doesn’t count. I heard you and your friends discuss romance books, and you were far from proper.” She pulled a summer dress out of the closet. “Let’s agree on a sign. If I clear my throat, you will stop whatever you’re talking about and change the subject or let me do that. I don’t want to talk over you and appear rude.”
Geraldine huffed out a breath as if to say that Cassandra was offending her for no good reason. “I’ll let you get dressed and go set the table.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.” Her mother hesitated for a moment. “I know that you are all grown up and that you don’t need advice from your crazy mother. But just try
not to seem too eager. Men like to chase, and if they catch you too easily, they don’t appreciate you.”
Geraldine had given her that same advice so many times that it was hardwired into her brain. Nevertheless, Cassandra pretended it was the first time she’d heard it. “Thanks for the advice, Mom.” She walked up to her mother, kissed her cheek, and once she left, closed the door and sighed.
Her mother’s advice sounded so outdated, so old-fashioned. Even anti-feminist. Why should women play hard to get when they wanted sex just as much as men did?
They shouldn’t.
But the world was not fair, and people played all kinds of games to get the upper hand. Cassandra hated playing games, but she hated losing even more.
54
Onegus
The door opened even before Onegus had a chance to knock, but it wasn’t surprising given that the guard had called the house before letting him through the gate.
He was glad that Cassandra and her mother lived in a gated community. Home invasions were much more commonplace than most people realized, and two women living alone were an easy target.
“Hello, Onegus.” Geraldine beamed at him, or rather at the bag he was holding in his left hand. “The orange chicken smells delicious.”
In his right, he was balancing a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. It never hurt to go the extra mile, so to speak.
“Good evening. I hope it is as good as it smells.” He handed her the bottle and flowers.
Geraldine looked lovely, her dark hair swept to the side and secured with a comb, and a pale blue summer dress accentuating her delicate build. The cat-eye eyeliner and pale pink lipstick made her look like a fifties model, but she was way too young to have grown up in that era. In fact, she looked no older than Cassandra, maybe even younger, because Geraldine’s expression was softer.
Perhaps she wasn’t Cassandra’s birth mother?
Nah, that didn’t make sense. No agency would let a young, unmarried woman adopt a child. Unless she was Cassandra’s older sister. Perhaps siblings were allowed to foster their younger sisters and brothers?