Yesterday & Forever

Dedicated: to my mum- Rachel; sister- Ruth; brother-Joshua and

Aunty Hannah. Thank you all for supporting my writing dream over the years.

To my amazing husband Andrew ‘Beard’ Rodger for being the wings that finally made that dream take flight.

Chapter 1

“
Grey, grey, grey!”
Cassandra Regence muttered to herself, as she looked up at the tall London buildings.

Cursing the fact there was no where closer to park, she hurried clumsily past the throng of lunchtime commuters. The boxed retirement cake tilted perilously in her arms. The glass domed building that housed ‘Moringdon Asset Management’, the cake’s final destination, lay just in front. It towered above all the others, casting a long ominous shadow.

Cass wrinkled her nose as a series of buses went past, their fumes wafting into her face. It was moments like this that she was grateful she didn’t work in the City. Her small country bakery was doing well for itself, although she’d made sure to pack a few extra business cards just in case this event got her more publicity.

Weaving in and out of the crowd was a lot more difficult than she had anticipated. She finally arrived at the glass revolving doors after her long trek, red faced and panting. Her blond, wavy hair had escaped from its tortoiseshell clip confines and stuck inelegantly to her face.

Pushing through with her bottom, she approached the black marble desk, manned by one bored looking security guard. Cass always thought the flower -displays in these places were ridiculous. Her sky-blue eyes were wide as she inspected the display of one single, orange lily, artfully shoved into a round fish-bowl vase stuffed with tangerines.

“
Hi. I’m Cassandra Regence. From ‘CC’s Bakery’”, she announced brightly, pointing to the pink company name label embroidered on the black tunic, “I’m here with the retirement cake”. She heaved the cake onto the desk, her large pink carrier swinging around her back as she did so.

The security guard eyed her over the steel rim of his glasses. Pushing the cake to one side, he handed her a small plastic card. “Twentieth Floor please. You’ll need this pass to get through”, he answered, dragging out the last sound of the ‘oooo’ in ‘through’.

“
Thank you!”

Cass grabbed the pass. Precariously balancing the cake in one hand and the pass in the other, she made her way through the small, metal gates to the lifts.

Ting, ting, ting.
Finally the doors opened. Managing to press 20 and still hold onto the cake, Cass turned and caught sight of herself in the wall mirror. She knew that the company uniform of black tunic, leggings and ballet pumps made her look a lot younger than her 28 years. Not exactly the mature businesswoman image she hoped to present.

Humming along with the Greensleeves lift music, she soon found herself up on the twentieth floor.

And yet another desk, she thought to herself, moving the box out of her line of vision as she approached the desk. No silly flowers here though, eyeing the tall, thin vase of yellow roses. The blooms seemed to be drawing her closer to them, their scent wrapping itself around her senses.

“
There lovely aren’t they”.

Stopping abruptly, Cass realised she had been walking straight towards the vase, past the receptionist behind the desk.

“
Yes they are”, she murmured, dragging her eyes away from the flowers back to the receptionist. “I’m Cassandra Regence, from CC’s Bakery. This is the retirement cake that was ordered”.

She placed the cake carefully on the counter as she unclipped the small electronic signature machine.

“
They are ‘Midas Touch’ Roses. Very exquisite”, the receptionist continued as she scribbled her signature on the small machine.

“
Midas Touch?” Cassandra repeated breathlessly.

The receptionist looked at her closely. “Yes they are. Mr Drake insists on having them fresh every week. I say, are you feeling okay? You’ve gone a little pale dear”.

Cassandra smiled shakily as memories, too painful even now, threatened to surface.

“
No, I’m fine. You said Drake. I thought this was ‘Moringdon Asset Management?” she queried, her eyes jumping from the face of the receptionist to the bright yellow roses.

“
It is. Mr. Drake’s company own this. It was a very recent takeover”, she explained still peering at Cass as though she expected her to faint any second.

Cass nodded. The air around her seemed suddenly stifling. She turned quickly to leave.

“
I’m sorry to ask this”, Cass heard the receptionist call after her, “Especially as you don’t look like you’re feeling well, but the person due to set up the cake has had to run an errand. Would it be a bother to do it? The stand is in there and everything”.

Counting to ten and plastering a helpful smile on her face, Cass turned around. “No, no bother. Where shall I put them?”

She was lead down a short, tan hallway. The plush, beige carpet was bouncy beneath her feet. Expensive paintings were liberally mixed with certificates and press cuttings. All reflecting the face of the one man she never thought she’d see again.

“
Here we are”.

The receptionist pushed open a wide mahogany door and Cass let out a low whistle. The room was covered head to toe in balloons, banners, presents and flowers of all shapes and sizes. In the middle was a large, glass oval table covered in food and in the middle sat a tall glass cake stand.

“
Will this even be enough?’ Cass mused aloud, looking down at the cake.

“
Well, that was the order,” the receptionist replied, smiling pleasantly before closing the door.

Cass walked slowly over to the cake stand. The bill for cleaning any of these carpets should a cake fall would probably be a months’ wages!

Unpacking the cake gently, she looked up, her gaze falling over a long, framed photograph in the middle of the wall. The face of the man in that photo still held traces of the boy that she knew. Except now the coffee brown eyes of Luca Drake were harder, the smile tighter, as the hands held a ‘Businessman of the Year’ award.

She couldn’t look away. The memories from that September day came flooding back as if they had happened yesterday and not 10 years ago.

Chapter 2

“
Cassandra Regence”. The piercing tannoy system of the University Enrolment announced. “Please go to Booth 8”.

Picking up her bag, Cass slowly made her way past the huge crowd of other University newbies. Quickly spotting booth 8, she slid onto the hard, plastic chair in front of it.

“
Enrolment papers please”. The woman behind the small wooden table asked, her head scanning the sheet in front of her.

Cass pulled the small folder from her bag and handed it across.

The woman flicked through, frowning. “These are the courses you are taking, not the enrolment papers”.

“
Oh, sorry!” Cass said hastily, grabbing another wad of papers from her bag.

“
First time away from home?” the woman queried, skimming through the papers and jotting down the details.

“
Is it that obvious?” Cass laughed.

“
Mmmmmm”, came the dismissive reply.

Cass looked around her. The hall was packed! If there weren’t first year students, there were second and third years urging people to join their clubs.

“
I know. I mean it’s not as if he didn’t recognise me! We had a whole five minute conversation! Yep...yeah. He’s a first year too! Destiny right?!”

The voice behind Cass stopped. ‘Mmmm...mmmmm. No, seriously, he is really hot!”

Peals of laughter accompanied this last statement.

“
No, wait. Gotta go. He’s here!” squealed the voice.

Cass wasn’t by nature a nosy person but even this she had to see.

Flicking her hair so it wasn’t, hopefully, that obvious she was spying, Cass turned around in her chair.

The voice belonged to, in Cass’s opinion, someone who clearly belonged in a fashion magazine. Tall, skinny and cascades of elegantly styled chestnut hair. She was staring in the direction of a small group of guys. All wearing what looked to be rugby shirts with faded jeans, each one more handsome then the other.

Which one was it, thought Cass. Could it be number 9, with the slightly, fashionable too-long blonde hair, or number 5 with the sleeves rolled up, or could it be...

Cass stopped thinking as number 7 turned around.

She heard the girl inhale sharply and Cass found she couldn’t agree more.

A heart-stopping smile revealed shiny, Hollywood white teeth and created laughter lines in the corners of his dark eyes. He had a straight nose, like the ones she had seen on the classical statutes in the hall. Wide shoulders were emphasised by a large black rucksack and rich, dark brown hair curled where it reached the top of the white rugby collar. His olive tan either meant he was naturally blessed or had come back from an exotic holiday and whilst not being the tallest of the group, he was by no means the shortest at roughly 6 foot, if Cass’s guess was right.

As if sensing he suddenly had an audience, he turned around to look in Cass’s direction. Cass froze unable to do anything except stare back. A frown creased his brow as if trying to place a name to a face. Suddenly a hand shot up near Cass’s face.

“
Luca. Hey! It’s me, Meg!” the girl squealed.

His gaze moved slowly over to the brunette. He smiled, though Cass didn’t think it was quite as genuine as it could be.

“
Miss...Er miss. Hello!”

Cass turned back guiltily. The woman behind the desk was holding out her papers to her, a frustrated look on her face.

“
Thanks”, Cass muttered, grabbing the papers and putting them in her bag.

“
So now you have to go and have your photo taken. It’s in the Warner Building, room 2C. Won’t take long. Right- next!”

Feeling as if she were back at school and being dismissed, Cass clutched her bag tightly and quickly departed. Following the paper pink arrows, she made her way out and across the small cobbled terrace to a large, neo-classical building ready for her close up.

Chapter 3

Two hours later, Cass wasn’t sure if the woman in the hall meant long to have the photo or get to its venue. If it was the former, she was in her right mind to go back and complain for being misinformed!

Despite the wave of annoyance, the intoxicating smell of the University Coffee House called to her down the crowded corridor.

Shoving her way through she finally reached the long wooden counter.

“
One latte please”, Cass said, handing the change across. Turning around to reach into her backpack, she collided, face first into a tall, definitely human, muscled wall, encased in a rugby shirt.

“
Oh, sorry, I...”

She stopped, her eyes growing round as she looked up, recognising the guy from the hall. Mr Number 7.

“
It’s fine”, he replied, the deep timbre of his voice causing goose bumps to rise along her arms.

Cass flashed a small smile and turned hastily around, casting eyes downwards, all the time aware of the figure behind her. His eyes, she realised now, were a dark brown encircled by a gold band. She felt her cheeks grow warm. She had no business thinking of his eyes- she didn’t even know him for crying out loud!

Raising her eyes back up she saw her face reflected in the mirrored panel behind the counter.

Whoosh! Suddenly breathless as their eyes met in its polished surface. The dark eyes moved slowly over her face, from the loose blonde waves to the pink cheeks and shining blue eyes.

“
One latte!” came the strident voice of the barista.

“
Oh that’s mine”, Cass muttered, reaching for the Styrofoam cup. Just at the same time as Mr Number 7.

The hot liquid splashed all over the counter, dripping down its sides.

“
Oh, I’m so sorry”, Cass said, grabbing a handful of paper napkins and trying to mop up the damage.