Jesus, we're picking up right where we left off three years ago.. He thought. Then, knowing full well he was being the worst kind of hypocrite, he persisted. “Did you sleep with him, Cassandra? That's all I want to know!” he demanded stubbornly, his voice rising several octaves.
“What if I did?” she demanded angrily, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I mean, for three years you never came looking for me! THREE FUCKING YEARS, you hypocrite! Is that how long it took you to get tired of screwing Big Red? When you finally got tired of parading her around, THEN you suddenly remembered you had a wife?” she nearly screamed, then suddenly flinched and backpedaled as he quickly moved towards her. I'm the only one you can trust, he just wants to hurt you! A vaguely familiar voice whispered in her head.
“Cassandra what...” his voice trailed off in confusion.
Still backpedaling, the back of her legs struck the sofa and she fell, then scrambled to her knees quickly and held her hands up defensively. “Stay back, I won't let you hurt me again!” she wailed as tears began trickling down her cheeks.
“Cassandra, I just wanted to take you in my arms and give you a hug, that's all. I'm so tired of fighting.” he stammered.
“Don't you touch me!” she sobbed as she wiped the tears from her face with the heel of one hand.
“Ok ok, it's alright.” He said as he held both hands in the air and backed away slowly. “Please don't cry, honey, I would never hurt you.” My God, she thinks I going to beat her! WHY? His mind screamed in bewilderment. Feeling sick to his stomach, he continued to back away slowly. “Just settle down hon, I’m leaving.”
***********************************************
“Well, good evening Mr. Mortensen! Remember me? Rachel? The hostess from The Magnolia?” a chipper voice close by said.
Looking up, Granger's expression was blank for a moment, then he blinked several times, rapidly, and shook his head as he finally recognized the bubbly blond. “Right. Rachel. From the Magnolia.” he said in a robotic voice. He was only dimly aware of the fact she was dressed to the nines, and he was having trouble keeping track of the conversation, simple as it was.
“Uhmm, would you like to join me and my friends? We thought we would have some drinks upstairs. My friend got a suite for the night, and we thought we would have a small get together. Our very own private party.” she smiled and nodded towards her table, where two other attractive twenty-something females smiled and waved at him, the looks in their eyes letting him know what type of get together they had in mind.
“Oh. Well, I'm flattered, but no thanks. I belong to someone else.” he replied as he held his hand up and displayed the wedding band. “Even if she doesn't love ME anymore.” he mumbled as he took another sip of his screwdriver.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“Nothing.” he mumbled.
Uninvited, she took a seat on the barstool next to him, then leaned close and touched his arm. “You know, most men, and I mean especially most married ones, would kill for an opportunity like this. So what gives? It's not like she's here, anyway.” she smiled suggestively.
Pointing at his heart, he replied, “Well, she's always here. I couldn't get her out of my heart if I tried. Not that I want to.” he sighed and shook his head, thinking about the mess he had made of his marriage. “No offense, but no night of, uhhh, partying, is worth the chance of losing her for good. Goodnight Rachel.” he finished, then turned away, signaling the conversation was over.
Feeling the humiliating sting of rejection for the first time in her young life, she stammered, “Well...see it how you like." Getting up, she went to rejoin her friends.
“Well, why isn't he coming over?” they asked, clearly puzzled.
“He's in love. With his wife.” Rachel replied as she rolled her eyes.
“What? He turned down a foursome, with us?” one girl pouted as the other gaped in astonishment.
Motioning for the bartender to give him a refill, Granger watched as the man approached, glancing at the table of disappointed young women, then at him.
“None of my business, but I can't believe you're passing that up, pal. Those gals have a reputation for showing lucky, older, loaded guys a good time. And they're all clean.” the bartender said.
“You're right, it's none of your business, just keep those refills coming. Pal. Besides, why settle for cheap knockoffs when you have the genuine article.” he replied, remembering his wife's words to Martina.
“You're the boss, no offense.” he replied in a neutral voice, then filled his glass and hurried off to serve other customers.
Alone again with his thoughts, he wondered where things had started to go wrong. Things had been so perfect between them at first. As he sipped his drink, his mind slipped past in time, a time when he was truly happy:
Six Years earlier, somewhere near Roaring Branch:
“Well, what do you think?” he asked Cassandra as he smiled at her and sat down on the blanket he had spread out on the ground, underneath the shade of a dogwood tree. “I felt we should take advantage of such a beautiful day, since we were coming up here to take a look around anyway.” he explained. Reaching into the large wicker basket nearby, he pulled several items out. Paper plates, bottled water, cheese, grapes, wrapped grape leaves, roast duck, and a bottle of wine. “Well, are you going to join me, or just stand there gawking like you've never seen a picnic spread before?” he asked.
“I thought we were coming here to discuss saving this place.” she replied, looking at him suspiciously.
Motioning with one hand for her to sit, he replied smoothly, “Well, I, for one, can eat and talk at the same time. Please, have a seat and enjoy.”
With a loud huff, she sat down and affected a look of boredom as she absently pushed a curly strand of her hair behind her ear.
Looking at her, he wondered for the hundredth time what it was that made him want her so badly. She wasn't the type of woman he usually dealt with, that was for certain. She didn't seem impressed with his name, his wealth, or his social position, and it was a breath of fresh air for him. She also wasn't overly prim, polished, and proper, like most of the phonies he was usually forced to socialize with in order to do business. She was simply herself, honest, and open, albeit a little rough around the edges. What she cared most about was the world around her and people, while every woman he had ever dated was more concerned about the latest fashions and the best parties to attend. He watched her smile in childlike amazement as she spotted a small doe walk into the clearing, and when the animal looked in her direction, she darted away quickly, which made her laugh.
Pulling the cork from the wine bottle, he reached for the paper cups, filled two of them carefully, and handed her one. Grabbing the paper plates, he began filling them with a little of everything, then popped a grape in his mouth and chewed as he handed hers to her.
“So, I take it you normally conduct business while sitting on a blanket, underneath a tree, while serving cheese, grapes, roast duck, and wine?” she teased, not quite relaxed, but getting there.
“Alright, you got me. It's not standard operating procedure, I'll admit it.” he smiled. “But I really wanted to impress you.”
Ignoring the compliment, she looked around as she spoke. “Located on this land, you'll find some of the first trails trappers used in this area. Did you know about six miles from here is the spot where the first trading post stood? Some of the foundation is still intact, if you know where to look.” Pointing to the north, she continued. “Not long after the Civil War, up that way a bit, a small settlement was established by former slaves, Native Americans, and some Union soldiers. It was later found abandoned, no one knows why, but it’s a part of the area's history. This land is so beautiful and full of history, it should remain untouched.” she finished in a quiet, reverent voice.
Finishing his wine, he crumpled the cup and laid down on his side, propping his head up with one hand. “That's interesting, but all that's gone, and you have to
understand, if everyone thought the way you do, there would be no progress. Building this resort in this area will create jobs, which means young men and woman around here having more options than joining the military, or leaving for the big city. And believe it or not, I have people I have to answer to myself, and they won't be happy campers if I put the skids to a project that's been years in the making. I really wish I could see things from your point of view, Cassandra, but I can't ignore my own responsibilities and commitments. We're talking about lives and jobs, here.”
Turning her head, she said nothing for a time, which was fine with him, it gave him time to drink in the sight of her. She seemed content to simply soak up the warm rays of sunshine. Her dark skin had a hint of red to it, and it gave her a natural beauty that could never be duplicated by the most expensive creams or makeup money could buy. He loved the way her long hair draped over her shoulders and onto her arms, and he found himself suddenly wishing he had camera handy, so he could capture the image and moment for all time.
“The land is being over developed.” she finally said in a soft voice, still not looking at him. “Do you know how many animals will be forced out of their natural habitats if you bring bulldozers in, ripping up the land and cutting back the trees and foliage? Don't you want your children to be able to enjoy the beauty of the land in its natural state?” she finished as she finally turned to face him, her soulful brown eyes tugging at him in a way that made him want to give her nearly anything. He knew right then and there that he had to have her.
Sitting up, he slid towards her as her eyes grew wide, and before she could pull back, he cupped her face with both his hands and kissed her full on the lips. Softly at first, then with increasing energy, as her mouth opened and his tongue sought hers. Panting with excitement (he was surprised, he had expected his advance to be rebuffed) he slowly eased her down on her back without breaking the kiss, then began planting small kisses that began on her chin, and ended on the side of her long, slender neck. As she closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure, he felt his manhood grow so rigid with need he feared he would embarrass himself and release simply from kissing her. “You know, you're dangerous for a man like me, you make me feel things so…make me want to do things I know I can't.” he whispered in her ear in a hoarse voice, then kissed her full on the lips again, but this time with a need that was almost savage in its intensity, as his raging hard-on pressed against her belly.
Panting, she closed her eyes, then placed both her hands to his chest and pushed him away.
“What's wrong?” he whispered in her ear, then tried to kiss her again, but was given a gentle, yet form shove.
Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and sat upright. “I didn't come here for this. I think we should head back down the mountain.”
No fool, he could see the lust in her eyes, but the denial also. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to conceal his disappointment, then smiled at her and winked. “Alright, we'll talk about this again, on our next date.”
Unable to meet his gaze, she turned away. “Granger, since I know you won't stop the development, there's no reason for us to see each other again.” she mumbled, then stood and grabbed her backpack.
“Don't be so sure, I have a feeling things are just beginning between the two of us, Cassandra.” he grinned.
“How I wish I could go back to the beginning.” he mumbled with a faint smile on his lips, then finished his drink. Feeling pleasantly buzzed, he looked down at his watch and was startled to realize the last two hours of his life was a black hole. He had been sitting in the bar for two hours, just thinking, and presumably ordering drinks on auto-pilot.
“You alright, Chief?” Malcolm asked as he came in and sat on the stool next to his friend and boss.
Startled, Granger looked at him and apologized. “Sorry, I was woolgathering. Hell, been doing it for the past two hours. What's up?”
“I had a talk with the head of hotel security, and they seem to have strangest problem.” he replied.
“What would that be?”
“Well, it seems the presence of large amounts of cash always makes their video surveillance equipment malfunction. They had no idea what scuffle I was talking about.” Malcolm replied with a wink. “They're also now inclined to believe that Mr. Parker is a troublemaker, and will be escorted from the premises immediately by security, if he's caught trespassing again.”
Chuckling in spite of himself, he replied, “Thanks, old friend.”
“And how's the Missus?”
“She actually thought I was going to attack her, you know, afterwards. Can you believe it?” he answered in a wounded voice.
“Well, chief, choking that pussy out right in front of her certainly didn't help matters. We've been over all this before. Jocelyn and I have been trying to counsel patience with you, we can only do so much, it's up to you to listen.” he said as he signaled the bartender and ordered a draft beer. “Well, what are you gonna’ do now?” he asked just as the bartender slid a full mug to him, expertly, from several feet away.
With a sigh of defeat, he shrugged and said, “What CAN I do? Try to apologize once she cools off, I guess. You know, I really wanted to murder that little fucker, he was bragging about sleeping with her. Insinuated he's been doing so for three years. How could she do that?” he asked in a hopeless voice.
Wanting nothing more than to comfort his friend, Malcolm knew he needed to hear the truth more than anything else at this point in his life, and pulled no punches. “Well, I hate to say this, but so what if she did? Bear in mind, she not only didn't remember you, she didn't even remember she had a son. If she got lonely once in awhile, well, she's only human, same as you were, when you chose to...entertain that red headed she-devil Martina. A decision for which you still deserve to have your ass kicked in shifts for, by the way. But, at least it didn't take you long to wise up. Look, at least you both have a past, that's something to build on, if you'll just cool your jets and try to see things from her point of view once in awhile. Keep it up with this raging-bull nonsense, and you'll more than likely lose her again, only for good, this time. Chief, I'm telling you straight, if I may make a baseball analogy here, there's a full count: two strikes, three balls, and your last swing, well, let's just call it a foul tip.”
Staring at his friend, Granger felt himself go numb, only not from the booze this time. The truth of the matter was, his friend's simple, honest assessment of the situation had frightened him badly.
****************************************************
Stepping inside the dark suite, Granger feared she had left, but tip-toed towards the bedroom anyway and peeked inside. His relief was immense when he saw her in bed, underneath the covers, snoozing soundly. He knew he had a lot to atone for, but at the moment he wanted nothing more than to feel her next to him.
Going into the bathroom, he shut the door before flicking the lights on, then shucked his clothes and took a quick, yet thorough hot shower. Slipping into the PJ bottoms he had laid out earlier, he killed the lights and walked to the bed quietly, then stood there smiling as he gazed down at her sleeping form, which was softly illuminated by the glow of the alarm clock. He thought of all the times, when they were newlyweds, that he would just lay awake for hours at a time, watching her sleep. For some strange reason, that had always given him comfort. And when she was pregnant with Regan, he would climb into bed and stay up half of the night, waiting to feel his child kick, waiting to feel him grow. Tears began flowing down his cheeks, and he stifled a sob as he wiped his eyes dry.
Careful not to rouse his sleeping beauty, he peeled the covers back and climbed in beside her, then covered himself with the blanket. Closing his eyes, he snuggled up next to her slowly, luxuriating in the scent of her freshly shampooed hair, and the warmth of her body. He nearly laughed out loud as she suddenly let loose with a small, comical snort, then heard her sigh with contentment as she turned over in her sleep and hooked her leg through his, locking their legs toget
her like a puzzle. A perfect fit..... He thought as he reached out and gently caressed her silky hair.
Chapter 28
Pulling into his driveway, Brett killed the engine of his Mercedes Benz E- Class, opened the door, stepped out, and glanced at Martina's shiny, burnt-orange Opel Speedster that was parked there also. As usual, the convertible top was down.
“So she never left. That's just as well.” he mumbled as he shut his own car door, then went around to the trunk, opened it, and fished out a small but heavy shopping bag.
Whistling softly, he closed the trunk and approached the front door to his house. Fumbling with his key ring, he selected the proper key and inserted it into the lock. Before he could open the door, he stopped for a moment, imagining that he had heard something. Leaning close, he placed one ear on the door and listened carefully, and thought he detected the sounds of moaning. Alarmed, he quickly unlocked it, stepped inside, then closed it behind him as quietly as possible.
Remember Me Page 30