CHAPTER SEVEN — Collisions
1148 Words
At the Reed household, the four of them sat in the living room wrapped in a silence that was heavy enough to feel. Nobody had spoken for a while. Then Daniella broke it.
“I just don’t believe that girl can hide from us. Not in this country.”
“We have used every connection we have and still nothing.” Margaret’s voice was tight. “I don’t want her destroying everything we have built. We need to find her before she opens her mouth to the wrong people and drags the Reed name through the mud.”
Samuel Reed said nothing for a moment. Then he stood up abruptly. “I will put more resources into finding her.” He walked out, leaving the door swinging behind him.
Mrs. Clara Grant moved through the office building the way she always did — like she owned every floor of it. The staff bowed as she passed. Nobody stopped her. Nobody ever did.
She pushed open the door to Alexandro’s office without knocking.
Alexandro was at his desk reviewing documents. Cassandra sat at the far end of the room, chin resting in both hands, fighting her usual battle with boredom. Both of them looked up at the same time.
Mrs. Clara’s eyes went straight to Cassandra.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t believe I owe you a report on the people in my office, Mother,” Alexandro said, without looking up from his documents.
“I am your mother!”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” He finally looked up. “And I believe you know how to knock before entering a room. Perhaps practice what you preach to your staff.”
Something shifted in Mrs. Clara’s expression. She turned sharply to Cassandra. “Get out.”
Cassandra was already rising from her chair when Alexandro’s voice came across the room, low and final.
“Sit down.”
Cassandra froze between the two of them, not entirely sure which instruction was going to get her into more trouble.
“Aren’t you the one who should be leaving?” Alexandro said, looking at his mother now with something that wasn’t quite warmth. “You walked into my office uninvited and spoke to my staff like that.” He glanced toward the door. “It’s still open. I believe you know the way out.”
Mrs. Clara stood very still for a moment. The kind of still that meant the opposite of calm.
“Your grandfather will hear about this,” she said quietly. “This is not over.”
She opened the door and walked out.
As soon as she got outside she removed her phone and called someone. “Meet me at Side Cafe.” Then she was gone.
The office felt different after she left. The tension was still sitting in the air even though she was no longer in the room. Cassandra slowly sat back down. She had not been with the Grant household for a full month yet but the amount of drama she had already witnessed in that short time was enough to tell her one thing clearly — this family was full of it.
“Get me water.”
Cassandra stood, walked to the fridge, poured a glass and carried it over to his desk. She stood there waiting while he took a few sips and set the glass back down. Then he looked up at her face.
“Were you scared just now?”
Cassandra slowly shook her head.
He studied her for a moment. Then without any warning he reached out and pulled her closer.
“Why are you lying?”
Cassandra’s heart began beating faster than she could control. They were so close now that she could smell his cologne — warm and familiar in a way that sat just beneath the surface of her memory, in a place she couldn’t quite reach. His hand was already around her waist. She looked so small standing there in front of him.
She pressed both hands flat against his chest and pushed. He barely moved.
She looked up.
Their eyes met. Suddenly a sense of familiarity hit her — quiet and quick, like something brushing past her that she couldn’t catch. Alexandro’s gaze dropped slowly to her lips. He pulled her closer. He was so close now.
Then she pushed him away — harder this time — and walked quickly to the washroom, pulling the door shut behind her.
A few seconds later Alexandro heard it.
The sound of someone vomiting.
He sat back slowly in his chair and said nothing.
Stacy walked into the Side Cafe like she always walked into rooms — like she was already the most important thing in it. The short dress she wore did exactly what she intended it to do. She could feel the eyes following her across the floor. She was used to it. She had always been beautiful and she had never once pretended otherwise.
The only man whose eyes had never followed her was Alexandro. In all the time she had known him he had looked at her with nothing warmer than mild irritation. But that was a problem for another day.
A waiter appeared at her side. “Miss Stacy, Madam Clara is waiting for you in the private room.”
She found the older woman already seated, her expression carrying the particular kind of tension that came from someone who had been disrespected and hadn’t finished processing it yet. Stacy smoothed her face into something soft and worried and slid into the seat across from her.
“Mummy. You look troubled. What happened?”
Mrs. Clara didn’t waste time. “Do you know the girl staying at Alexandro’s house?”
“That girl with no name?” Stacy said, letting just enough contempt color her voice. “Did she disrespect you? Because I swear—”
“She didn’t. But because of her, my son did.” Mrs. Clara folded her hands on the table. “We need to move faster. I want you and Alexandro married. I don’t have a good feeling about this girl.”
The smile came before Stacy could stop it. She pressed her lips together and arranged her face back into something more suitable.
“I wish it were that simple, Mother. But you know how Alexandro is.” She paused, letting the right amount of sadness creep in. “And now there is this woman living under his roof.”
“I want her gone,” Mrs. Clara said flatly. “And I am bringing Lydia back from Canada.”
This time Stacy didn’t bother hiding the smile. Just the mention of Lydia’s name told her everything she needed to know about what was coming next.
- Writer
