How to snag an Astor

Chapter2

With Cassidy's help— and almost all the money they had left— she was able to hire a good lawyer the next week.

She had visited her uncle several times, trying to reason with him still, but his reception remained cold and his stance unyielding. In a moment of despair, she had hounded her mother for answers. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she was in need of answers, desperately so.

What agreement?

What had they done that she didn’t know about?

A week later, her court hearing was called.

Days before the hearing, she got an email. The hearing was canceled.

Days later, her lawyer stopped picking up her calls and his security denied her and Cassidy entry every time they went by.

Anger, astonishment and anxiety, became her constant companions, compounding all her problems. Uncle Roman… he wasn’t who she’d thought he was, and she didn’t know what hurt worse between that and the loss of her father.

A week later, after a quick grocery run, she was in their spacious, buttercream, ash and brown color themed, wooden kitchen arranging the ingredients when she heard a sound. Glancing behind her had her doing a sharp doubletake as she registered her mother standing there.

Without any help.

And smiling.

Smiling at her.

“Mom?” she called in an almost whisper, forgetting about her earlier task.

Ginevra giggled somewhat shyly. “My darling.”

The words hadn’t sooner left her mouth than she was engulfing her mother’s now frail body in a hug. Ginevra had never been on the heavy side, but her father’s death had drained her.

“Mamma,” she breathed, pulling back to observe her. Her light brown hair still managed to look healthy despite everything, and maybe it was because of her smile, but her cheeks also looked fuller than they had been a week ago

.

“Are you feeling better? Are you well?”

Ginevra took her hands and nodded lightly. “I'm better. How have you been, my love? I am so sorry, so, so sorry—"

But she shook her head. “No, mamma. None of that.” She pulled her into another hug and sighed. “I am so excited! I can’t believe you're standing here right now. What do you want to eat? I can make some lasagna, polenta—oh, I also have the ingredients for…” she babbled on, moving to the kitchen and rummaging through the cabinets, failing to see her mother’s smile drop.

“Darling?”

“Mamma, believe me, your taste buds will jump for joy—”

“Jas—”

“Just me sec. Where did I keep this…”

Ginevra huffed. “Azzurra!”

She whipped around and finally read the room. The pained look in her Ginevra's eyes gave her pause. She scanned her mother's figure and caught her hands nervously wringing the material of her caribbean skirt.

Her heart began a jog. “Mom?”

“I heard everything.”

“What?”

“Everything that happened between you and your Uncle Roman. When you were telling Cassidy, I heard it. I just couldn’t do anything at the time.” She traveled the distance that separated them and went to stand in front of her daughter.

“But when you went to the supermarket, I found my strength, and I did something about it.”

Horror engulfed her. “Mamma…”

But the short shake of Ginevra’s head shut her up. “I didn’t sign over ownership, don't worry.”

A gasp of relief left her.

“But I can’t take over, either. I am not up to it and I, honestly, don’t know much about it.” Ginevra began hastily, making her daughter’s hunches rise. “But because we need the money, I reached an agreement with him,” she finally ended, looking somewhat panicked, yet at the same time relieved.

But Jas shook her head. “Uncle Roman cannot be reasoned with. I hired a lawyer and got a court hearing, but he somehow meddled with it. He is a devious man, mamma, but I am going to fight him—”

“There is no need for that, Azzurra,” her mother rushed out. “I did it.”

“But you—”

“I did it, Azzurra,” she emphasized, and then it hit her. She did it.

Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do, mamma?” she demanded, and watched the mixture of panic and ease come to a peak in her eyes.

“I got him to consider allowing you work in your father’s stead.”

Jas shook her head. That was highly unlikely. The thought of what she must have done made her stomach drop.

“Mom—”

“You have to get married. In three months.”

Two weeks.

That was how long she had spent trying to reason with her mother and her uncle, switching between fighting, groveling, thinking, and doing it all over again.

Two weeks of feeling absolute despair and incredulity.

Two weeks of feeling trapped and not knowing what to do about it but laugh sadistically.

Ginevra was slowly getting her bearings back, and the thought of seeing her only daughter married and happy was very appealing to her. That much was too obvious. She'd even called it her ‘consolation’ after the death of her husband. And it hurt. Because why couldn’t she be her mother’s consolation? Ginevra soon dissolved into a fantasizing mess, always talking about seeing her little grand babies running around, only brightening up at the slightest random mention of the word ‘Children’, or when she wanted to beg her daughter to do as she said.

The thought of approaching her uncle floored Jas every time, because what was she to say? It was all in the hands of her mother, and no matter how much she pleaded, the response was always the same.

“I know your uncle, amore. Even if I allowed you, he would make life hell for us. Please, listen to me.” And every time, her resentment increased.

Why?!

What the hell was going on and why was she the sacrificial lamb?!

Still, she approached her uncle, and the gleaming smile he gave her every time while congratulating her on her marriage made her hate him in a way that she never thought she could. Ginevra could let her in, but he would only a man as an equal.

Misogynistic betrayer.

Often times, she found herself lost in the throes of hopelessness and confusion. She could work elsewhere, but the very thought of letting everything her father worked hard for go to her wicked uncle on a gleaming platter skinned her dry every time.

And the amount of time it would take to rise up the ladder as a worker without experience to be able to earn something worth paying their bills…

Two more weeks of proposals and refusals passed by, reducing her time to 2 months. Time was running out.

She was well and truly stuck.

And so, spitefully, she and Cassidy came up with a plan. They needed a man who;

One, was wealthy and humane enough to have his own money and willing to hand over the ownership to her without wanting too much in return.

Two, had no issues with divorce.

Three, was both knowledgeable and dominant enough to stand up to her uncle, and

Four, was single and desperate enough to want a wife in the space of two months and be married for a year only... keeping in mind that she would be a wife in name alone.

Zero conjugal benefits.

And so, their search began. From tall to short, fat to slim, blonde to brunette and others, mention it, they met 'em all, but they were either treacherously lewd, unashamedly selfish or both.

Ayayai!

After a whole month of selling her dignity, pride and every shred of self-respect, and walking around with shame like a second skin, she and Cassidy collapsed on the couch on a cool Friday afternoon in November, staring into nothing.

“We are well and truly f****d,” Cass murmured.

And Jas couldn’t agree more.

As she shoved her legs into her stretchy black leggings, she huffed for the umpteenth time. Smacking her lips, Cassidy looked up from mirror where she was lining her lips and wagged her pencil at her.

“Quit all that whining and get your Italian butt into those pants. We gotta go.”

“No, you do. I really don’t want to.”

“And I also never wanted to drive around the same car for the last seven years, but we don’t always get what we want. Get a move on it, sissy,” Cassidy chastised.

Cassidy had suggested and forced a trip to the movies to try and get them out of their bad funk, and whilst Jas really appreciated it, she really didn’t want to go. Her life was almost in total shambles and the last thing she wanted was to bawl her eyes out in an overcrowded cinema. With a sigh, she forced her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, shoved her feet into some sandals, draped a black jacket over her shoulders and slung a bag across her mid, then turned to pin Cassidy with a look. All Cassidy did was shake her head in mock pity and they were out.

They were at the cinema some fifteen minutes later, and just as she had predicted, it was crowded. Fortunately, they were able to buy late tickets, snacks and sneak their way into the very back of a dark, crowded theater. As they took their seats in the second to the last row, she turned to cast a longing look at the row behind her. She had wanted the last row because it was the furthest away from people and if she had to ugly cry, she would be able to do so safely, but it was filled up…

And some guy there was peacefully fiddling with his phone. Lucky.

Cassidy leaned in and whispered, “Isn’t this fun?” just as the crowd gasped collectively.

She nodded halfheartedly, settled in and pulled out their snacks. At least they had popcorn...

Thirty minutes into the movie, Jas had come to three conclusions.

The movie wasn’t all that,

The popcorn was overpriced,

And the guy on the right behind her was a complete scumbag, who wasn’t even decent enough to reduce the volume of his ringtone!

Now, why the heck would anyone go to the cinema to be on their phones all through? She had every right to at least hear the lines of the movie she didn’t like but had paid fully for! The two times she had turned around to POLITELY tell him off, he had ignored her, and Cassidy was too busy enjoying the film to care. Jas huffed and sulkily hunched down in her seat.

“The next time I hear his phone ring, so help me God, I will—"

His phone rang.

Her teeth snapped shut. That was it! As if he had been waiting, he got to his feet as soon as she whirled around, and began down the steps a seat away from her. And she could have been happy about it, but she wasn’t. The scumbag’s voice was still a little too loud. She was about to ‘accidentally’ stretch out her foot and watch him tumble to his demise when the words,

“I’m done with him. He purposely refuses to understand me. How am I supposed to get married in two months when my girlfriend isn’t ready?” reached her ears and she froze. As she watched his back get lower and lower until he completely disappeared, only one sentence kept playing in her head.

Married.

Two months.

Bingo.