Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
“Well, me, I'm going to take her advice. What are you going to do, smartass?” Joy asked him. “Never mind, you'll probably just insult me again.” she replied airily, then plucked a banana from the fruit basket and left.
Glaring down at the dog, who had just finished the bowl of stew and was licking her chops, Raidon's eyes narrowed as the animal not only growled, but dared to bare her teeth at him. “Princess...” he hissed, “how about I take you out for a nice swim later, when mom's gone. You still like that cold, cold water in the creek behind the house, don't you? I'll toss your furry little ass in, get you alllll cleaned up.”
Almost as if understanding what he had said, Princess yelped once, then scampered
frantically from the room, seeking protection from the only source she could, her owner's arms.
“Hairy
RAT
!” Raidon scowled.
********************
Cassandra fanned her face and put a protective hand on her belly as she made her way through the crowded club. Deciding she needed to unwind, Cynne' and Satin had brought her to one of the hottest nightclubs in town, one that drew mostly young professionals and college students. At first she had balked, being pregnant and all, but she had finally relented, and was glad now that she did. The music was wonderful, they served delicious hot wings, and since she was the designated driver for the night's festivities, the bar gave her free, unlimited sweet iced tea. Just like the hot wings, it was delicious, the only drawback being she had to run to the restroom every ten minutes.
Stepping inside the meticulously cleaned restroom, she rushed to one of the stalls, fearful she wouldn't make it in time. Stepping into an empty stall, she shut the door just as she heard the restroom door open and close, then heard the slow 'tap tap tap' of high heels coming closer, then stop, seemingly right in front of her stall. Frowning, she wondered if the person was too drunk to realize the other stalls were empty. Clearing her throat, she said, “Occupied, but the other stalls are free, if you don't want to wait. I might be here a bit.”
Silence was her only answer.
Shrugging, she cleaned herself, stood and flushed, then smoothed her garments back in place just as the restroom door flew open again and Cynne' called for her.
“Cass, you in here?” Cynne' giggled, sounding a bit tipsy from the drinks a college student had been buying her all evening.
Suddenly, whoever had been standing in front of her stall quickly walked to the other end of the restroom, judging from the sounds of her high heels, then stepped into a stall and slammed the door shut.
“Girl, did you fall in, or what?” Cynne' giggled, then hiccupped.
“Yeah, I can't believe how much pregnant women pee.” Satin called out.
Opening the stall door, Cassandra was greeted by her tipsy, giggling friends. Shaking her head, she shooed them out of her way as she went to the sink.
“Did y'all see that cute guy that was all up on me while we were dancing? He's the starting quarterback for the college, he's a senior, isn't that cute?” Satin said, making her way to the sink beside Cassandra's. Taking her lip gloss from her purse, she applied a fresh coat.
Wobbling on her feet ever so slightly, she giggled, “He keeps humping my ass and grinding against me, all bold an' shit. I'm gonna’ have to take him home, teach the young buck how to do the do right.”
Cassandra laughed, then brought up something she had noticed when the young man had first approached Satin. “ You know, he looks like he could be Detective Lemont's younger brother. They have the same build,
haircut
, and even have remarkably similar facial features.”
“No!” Satin said she shook her head in firm denial and glanced at her new friend. “He does not look the least bit like that walking, talking, arrogant dickhead.” She'd been deliberately avoiding Brian ever since he had left the office two weeks ago. She knew he was probably gloating about how easily she had given in to his touch and kiss. But the truth of the matter was, just the thought of what had went on in her office, and his touch, made her shiver.
Chuckling and giving her a knowing smile, Cassandra said nothing.
Coming to join them at the sinks, Cynne' looked at Satin and said, “Heeeeyyyyyyy, she's right. You know, I thought that guy looked like someone I knew. Why don't you quit cuddling up with that boy out there, wishing he was Brian Lemont. Go find the real deal, then make sweet love with him down by the fire.”
Laughing, Cassandra almost smeared the lipstick she was trying to ap
ply as Cynne' began singing Isaa
c Hayes, in a deep, albeit off-key voice. “You wanna’ make love to him woman..”
Cassandra stopped laughing. “Cynne', stop teasing her. You should be making love to Raidon Bishop, down by the fire. You know you want him.”
Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Cynne' busied herself drying her hands with a paper towel. Determined not to lose her good buzz from her last drink (a Southern Gentlemen, a drink made with Jack Daniels, a splash of fresh spring water, served chilled in a jelly preserve jar) she did her best to forget about the man she had recently dubbed ‘the low-life, cheating, mangy dog‘. Instead of forgetting, however, she felt pain slice through her heart because of his deceptions. So she turned the tables, by teasing her friend right back. “You can't talk, Missy! Men have been hitting on you all night with your pregnant self, but all you can think about is they aren't
Granger
.” she mocked, saying the man's name in a high-pitched, whiny voice.
“Come on now, you know better. I...” her voice was cut off as Satin interrupted.
“You know, I spoke to Nicola's fine ass self earlier today. He came to the office, flirting with all the women on the staff. He's a horn dog, but a fine one, fer sure fer sure!
He was telling me that Granger was...how did he say it?” she paused, then snapped her fingers as if just remembering.
“He said it was part of an old Italian proverb. Granger non sopravvivr`a a mai perche' lui e Casandra a sono angeli con soltanto un'ala e possono volare soitanto
un'ala e possono volare soiltanto abbracciandosi. (Granger will never survive because he and Cassandra are angels with only one wing, and they can only fly by embracing each other.)”
Cassandra smiled and nearly melted when she heard Nicola's sweet words, and knew he was so right.
God, do I miss him!
She
thought. For the past two weeks she had ignored him and his attempts to win her back. When he came to the house she had made excuses to leave him alone with Regan. When he began sending flowers several times a day, she refused each delivery, telling the delivery man to donate them to the local nursing home. Ditto with the extravagant jewelry. It seemed everyone, including Cynne' (after a lot of groveling from Granger for her to help him win her back) felt it was time for her to at least talk to him, but pride still held her in check, even though she missed him terribly.
She knew he would always be her first and only love, but now, with her memory completely restored, she had promised herself that no one would ever disregard her feelings again, the way he had when he had left in the middle of the night.
“Cassandra!” Cynne' said, snapping her fingers in front of her friend's face. “Now that you're not day dreaming about your Granger-Poo, I'll repeat what you didn't hear. “
“Huh?” Cassandra blinked.
“I asked, when are you going to put yourself and your husband out of this misery? I don't think I can take much more of him looking so pitiful when he leaves the house. After you've ignored him all day, I mean. The man acts like a one more piece of his heart has been sliced away every time he leaves you and his baby boy.”
Shrugging, she suppressed a sigh. Checking her lipstick one last time, she muttered, “The next OB appointment is a week away. I plan on letting him come with me, and maybe we'll discuss him coming home. But I'm telling you both, straight, if his ass ever pulls that walking shit again, he better never,
EVER
come slinking back.”
Although Cassandra's talk was supposed to sound tough, her tipsy friends found it amusing, and they both burst into peals of laughter.
“What's so funny?” she demanded, slinging her purse over one shoulder and glaring at them.
Satin covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. “I can't believe it,
YOU
said 'shit'!”
Clapping Satin's shoulder playfully, Cynne' pointed at Cassandra and joined in on the teasing. “ And 'ass'. You, so prim and proper, cussing, and with an attitude. It's sooo cute. It's like hearing one of the nuns at the orphanage curse, it just doesn't fit. It sounds strange when YOU try to sound all hard.”
At that moment, three other women came bursting into the restroom. As they all walked toward the unoccupied sinks, an auburn haired woman giggled excitedly as she tugged at
her black halter top. “My GOD! Did you see those two blue eyed, dark haired Adonis's standing at the end of the bar?”
“See them?! I couldn't take my
eyes off them!” a raven haired beauty gushed like a twelve year old. “OH. MY. GOD! And the one with the long hair.....” her voice trailed off as her eyes rolled back and she began gyrating on an imaginary stripper pole, “OoooooHHH, the thought of him working that beautiful body against me while I run my fingers through his hair.....”
A tall African American woman, sporting a cute pony tail, replied in in a petulant voice, “Man, they're both out of our league. Like, I went by and gave him the eye, but he acted like he didn't even see me! And I'm telling you, I may as well have had 'Hammer Me' tattooed on my forehead. I ain't
NEVER
been ignored before!” she whined. “The other one, the one with the shorter hair, was all up in that slutty waitress's face. My God! She was like, so whorish, waving her saggy, fake boobs in his face! Why would he want HER? She's sooo old, she's like, forty! What's with these guys in this place, anyway, choosing old maids over us?”
Taking offense to the comment about older women, Cassandra, Satin, and Cynne' had heard all they wanted to hear from the group of young tarts, all of whom were probably not even of legal drinking age. As they opened the door to leave, Cynne' remarked in a loud voice, “The dude probably wanted a real woman, and not little girls bouncing around and screaming like a bunch of Backstreet Boys groupies.”
As they reentered the boisterous atmosphere they laughed at the young women's silliness. Headed towards the VIP area Satin had secured for them, they weaved their way through the crowd to the top floor where their table was. The song '
Shakira: Hips Don't Lie
', began blaring from the speakers.
The young man that been dancing with Satin earlier approached and grabbed her by the waist before she could be seated. Twirling her back to the dance floor, the two friends who were with him got up from their table and approached Cassandra and Cynne', asking them if they would like to dance.
As Cassandra walked out on the dance floor the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she looked around uneasily, having the feeling she was being watched. Seeing no one she recognized in the immediate vicinity, she shrugged it off, then turned and smiled at the man who had asked her to dance, whose name was Tony. He seemed like a decent enough sort, and if nothing else, he was a charming, pleasant distraction from her aching loneliness.
“Cassandra, if I may say so, you're simply lovely tonight. You're glowing like the Northern Star.” he said as he smoothly twirled her around in his arms. Resting his hands on her hips, he took the lead, beginning a sensual Latin dance. “You're truly the definition of a woman. Sexy, in that radiant bloom of pregnancy glow way.”
Charmed, she favored him with a smile and actually felt her face flush as she followed his lead in the dance. “Northern star! Thank you, Tony you're a very sweet, smooth talker.”
************************
Martina sat quietly in the restroom stall, thinking back to the conversation between Cassandra and her two slutty cohorts. At the moment she was fuming, furious that she had missed her chance to kill the bitch. THE bitch. In order to keep from screaming in frustration, she bit into her lower lip so hard it began bleeding.
When the junkie private detective she had hired had called her pre-paid phone to inform her he was on Cassandra Mortensen's trail as she had requested, she had asked him to acquire a handgun for herself, hoping she would have an opportunity to get her alone and kill her herself. Desperate for money, the man had did as she asked. A short time later he had phoned her and set up a meeting in an abandoned apartment complex several blocks from the nightclub. There, he had given her the weapon, informed her of Cassandra's whereabouts, and received a bullet between the eyes as payment. She wanted no loose ends.
When she came into the club she had hid in the shadows until she saw her chance. Seeing her prey head towards the restroom, she had followed. Once inside, she was elated about the fact she was about to get rid of the thorn in her side. Standing outside the stall, gun drawn and waiting for the bitch to open the door, she had been thinking,
I want to see the look in her eyes when she see who's going to pull the trigger, who's going to put the bullets in her swollen stomach.
Then the other two meddling bitches had came bumbling along, forcing her to conceal the weapon and flee to an empty stall. She knew it would be next to impossible to shoot all three women and still escape. Even in a club as noisy as this, three shots would definitely draw unwanted attention.