Chapter 1
At the Goth residence located at 600 Westover Lane in the city of Pleasantview, Cassandra Goth stood in front of her mirror, getting ready for her date.
When was the last time I went on a date? She wondered as she struggled to fit her hair into a ponytail. Not in at least 2 years. Cassandra picked a piece of lint off her wool hat she had knitted herself, a nice forest color that brought out the hint of green in her hazel eyes. She recalled what her father had often told her:
"As the heir to the Goth family fortune, it is important to find someone and settle down!"
Cassandra glowered at the thought of marriage. Her eyebrows furrowed, creating the wrinkles that were often present these days. Not if Father weds before I do, she thought. Dina Caliente, a newcomer from SimCity, had been setting her eyes on Mortimer Goth, Cassandra's rich and esteemed father. You keep away from him. Cassandra thought. Dina was the "angel of Pleasantview"; all the men said so at the lab where Cassandra worked. Ugh. It was women like Dina that made Cassandra's sex life a living hell. All through college it had been like that: poor naive Cassandra thought she had a chance with the man of her dreams, yet she would see him two hours after their first date with a Dina-like woman on his arm. Fools, she thought. Maybe it had something to do with her hair. She would go to the hairstylist in SimCity to see if she could get a new cut.
Oh well.
Cassandra was at least lucky that Don Lothario had turned a blind eye to Dina. She looked out the window through the falling snow for a sign of his red sports car turning down the drive. Don Lothario. The "Don Juan" was what many of Cassandra's coworkers had called him.
"His name fits him, doesn't it?" called out one of Cassandra's friends after Don had first called to ask Cassandra on a date. Cassandra had only laughed and accepted Don's invitation.
He's just misunderstood. Cassandra thought as she looked around for her black parka. It was January, and one of the coldest days on record. Pleasantview Private, where Alexander attended school, had called off classes for the day because of the ice and snow, something that they rarely did.
Realizing that her parka was downstairs on the coat rack, Cassandra ran out of her bedroom and almost smacked into her younger brother, who was also dressed up for the weather.
"Where are you going sport?" Cassandra teased, tickling Alex through his heavy winter coat.
"Lucy Burb invited me to a snow friend making party!" The seven year old gleefully said through gasps of laughter. "Her parents can't pick me up because of the weather, so I'm walking over there!"
"Walking? In this weather?" Cassandra looked fearfully outside. The snow looked like it was picking up the pace, as if it knew a seven year old with a bad sense of direction was about to step outside. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'll be fine, big sis!" Alex giggled. "Don't be such a worrywart! It's only a few blocks away!"
Cassandra sighed as she watched her baby brother run down the stairs of the grand mansion. Ever since Cassandra's mother, Bella Goth, had mysteriously disappeared, she constantly had to keep an eye out for her younger brother. She was the woman of the house, after all. She followed Alexander at a slower pace. Maybe that's why Don is late. She pondered. Maybe he can't get his car out of the driveway because of the snow. I should call…
But as she reached for her cell phone, it suddenly buzzed in the pocket of her jeans. Pulling it out, she recognized the number on the caller I.D. as Don.
"Hello?"
"Hey, babe."
The sound of Don's silky voice instantly soothed Cassandra's nerves. "Hey you." She said, trying to sound sexy yet concerned. "Where are you?"
"I'm caught in some sort of a jam right now." Don said. "I might be a little late. Is that okay, honey?"
"It's perfectly alright!" Cassandra said, laughing. "I can't find my parka anyways!"
"Okay, hun. I'll ring you if I have anymore trouble. Love ya."
"Love you too. Bye"
"I'm sure he can't get his 'car' out of the 'driveway'," came a voice from the foyer. Cassandra looked to her left and saw her father appear at the door. "You know how much I don't trust that man, Cassie."
"Oh Daddy, it'll be fine." Cassandra reassured her father. "He's just in a bit of a rut."
"Why yes, I'm sure the Caliente sisters are a big enough 'rut' for dear old Don Juan." Mortimer said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Your wedding is soon. He should be over here, helping with plans and decorations!"
"Oh Father," Cassandra laughed. "Your attitude is worse than your innuendos! He'll show up!"
Shit. Don thought as he sat up in bed. It was already 11:00, but he'd woken up around 10:30. He pulled himself out of his comfy, warm double bed. This bed held so many memories.
Throughout his life, Don had been called many things: a lover, a Don Juan, a player. None of those names mattered to him. He was who he was. And he was Don Lothario. No one stopped him.
Don didn't really care about what other people thought of him anyways. All he really needed was a sexy woman, a huge bag of cash, and a nice house. Here in Pleasantview, the chances of at least getting two of those three needs were high. Don often found himself in a dilemma, like the one he was in now.
As Don pulled on his clothes, he thought about the night before. His fiancée Cassandra had invited him to a party hosted by the wealthy Mortimer Goth (the need of cash and a large house was already fulfilled), but he had politely declined, complaining about a stomach problem. On the contrary, he had spent a romantic evening with Dina Caliente, a very sexy woman, instead his betrothed.
You see, Cassandra Goth was not Don Lothario's type. The day after Don had asked for Cassandra's hand in marriage, Dina Caliente and her younger sister, Nina (also hot), had moved into the neighborhood. Dina was in her early twenties, and had graduated from Sim State University. She dreamed of becoming an actress, and during one of their secret dates, Dina had told Don about how she would do anything to become a big-screen star.
That gave Don an idea.
Don knew Mortimer Goth had some connections with famous directors and producers in Strangetown, the neighboring city. So, Don told Dina that he'd get her that opportunity, but the only way to do that was to marry Cassandra. Dina agreed, and after that, Don had been having a secret love affair behind Cassandra's back.
Last night Dina had come over. Don had cooked (very badly), but Dina didn't complain. They spent the night watching a romantic movie, made love, and relaxed in the hot tub on Don's roof.
Don raked a comb through his hair. Did he love Dina? Or Cassandra? The wedding was in a week, and Cassie had been pulling her hair out trying to prepare for it. Don had no idea there was so much to put into one little evening. He'd already gotten his tux, but Cassandra hadn't even gotten her dress yet.
Looking outside, Don realized that the roads would probably be bad.
Shit. He thought again. It took ten minutes to get to the Goth's, but with this weather, it'd probably take twenty. He was already late, and Cassandra was probably pissed at him.
Racing downstairs, Don cleaned up whatever he could find that gave the slightest hint of the fact that he had had another woman in the house last night. The condom wrapper on the floor, the stain on the couch. All those subtle little details could endanger Don's chance at getting the Goth fortune. Cassandra would freak if she saw. Pulling out his cell phone, he frantically dialed her number.
"Snow day!" screamed Lilith Pleasant, barging into her twin sister's room. Angela Pleasant looked up in surprise from her pillow.
"Get out!" she yelled. "It's isn't even eleven yet!"
"Aw, c'mon sis," Lilith whined, tossing her red hair back. "Get up! Mom needs us downstairs anyways!"
Angela hid her head under the pillow, and waited until she heard her sister's footsteps head out of her room and stomp downstairs. She got herself out of bed, checked in her mirror to see if her hair, the same violent shade of red as her twin's, looked ok. Then she headed downstairs.
Mary-Sue Pleasant, an attractive, serious woman, was pacing the entrée, wrinkles creasing the smooth skin of her face. When seeing her two daughters, her face lit up with hope.
"Girls," she said. "I am in a bit of a dilemma. I need your help."
"Ok, no problem, Ma." Angela said. Always the goody-two-shoes. Lilith thought angrily.
"I hope only one person is needed for this job," Lilith whined. Mary-Sue glared at her.
"Lilith Naomi Pleasant! I hope I did not hear those words come out of my own daughter's mouth! I thought I raised you better!" She rubbed her forehead, feeling the wrinkles that seemed to be more prominent on her face than ever. "Honestly, why can't you be more like your sister?"
Angela smirked at Lilith, who felt increasingly jealous. "Fine," Lilith growled. "What is it you want?"
Mary-Sue sighed, and looked out the window of the colonial-style house. "Your father has disappeared somewhere, without leaving a note. I need help doing some household chores."
"Are you serious?" Lilith complained right when Angela said "Ok."
Mary-Sue pulled a list out of the pocket of her suit. "Your father was supposed to do these chores while I was at work. You girls have to divide up the chores and do them. They shouldn't take too long."
Angela took the list and gave a quick glance. Lilith joined her, but when the twins looked up to ask Mary-Sue when she would be back, they discovered that their mother had already left.
"Ok," Angela said, taking initiative. "How many chores are on here?"
"I don't know," Lilith groaned. "But I'm not going to be doing them."
"Oh, come on Lilith," Angela waved the list in her sister's face. "Dad's not home and you know mom's too busy with her career to do this stuff herself." She paused for a moment. "Where is Dad anyways? He didn't say he had an appointment today."
"He has an appointment with a street hooker." Lilith snatched the list from Angela's hands. "I call doing the dishes!"
"A street hooker?" Angela crossed her arms. "Lilith, you know better."
"Kaylynn isn't anything more than a street hooker." Lilith grumbled.
"Lilith, I don't approve of Dad's relationship with Kaylynn either," Angela said. "But I don't make a big deal about it. But she's our maid. You'd better appreciate her because she cleans up after your messes. Now I don't want to hear anything else about it. Let's get dressed and showered and start on these chores."
Kaylynn, the Pleasant's maid, was one of the main things that were on both Lilith and Angela's minds as they went into their separate bathrooms. The fact that Mary-Sue and Daniel Pleasant's marriage had all but dissipated was something the twins could not ignore. Mary-Sue knew it too, but she had no idea what Daniel had been doing the past year. Angela and Lilith knew very well how Kaylynn and Daniel's relationship had evolved during the last few months, and they weren't happy about it.
After getting freshened up, the twins wrapped themselves up in their heavy winter clothes and headed outside to scrape the heavy snow off the tarp covering their outdoor pool.
"Lilith, do you have tutoring today?" Angela asked as she went to get the net they used to clean stray leaves and grass out of the water. "I vaguely remember Mom telling you that you did have it sometime today. Did you remember, or forget this time?"
"Oh, I remembered," Lilith sighed, staring dreamily into space. Angela recognized that look.
"It's a guy isn't it?" she teased. "You were never this excited about tutoring. Come on, who's the bastard?"
"No one!" Lilith said defensively. "There's no guy!"
"Come on." Angela prodded. "Tell me. Who is it? Is it Mark Somerson in our French class?"
"Ew, have you seen his clothes?" Lilith said. The expression on her face was so funny that Angela burst out laughing.
"I know, it looks like he came out of a gang fight!" Angela giggled some more, but then proceeded in bugging her sister.
"Do you really want to know?" Lilith said, trying to concentrate on shoveling some of the heavy snow off the tarp.
"YES!" Angela almost screamed.
"Dirk Dreamer." Lilith mumbled, so quiet Angela had to strain herself to hear.
"Really?" Angela squealed. "You guys would be cute together! But, he doesn't seem to be your type."
"Don't tell me what my type is." Lilith snapped, wrapping the cord to the underwater vacuum around its handle. "Help me so the tarp doesn't rip."
The twins managed to scrape off the remaining snow from the tarp, right as the snow was beginning to fall heavily, covering every inch of the ground outside. Pretty soon, it was impossible to work.
"Why did Mom ask us to wipe off the tarp?" Angela mumbled after heaving the last bit of snow off the pool covering. "It's only going to be covered up in snow again."
"I'm sure she meant for us to scrape it off after the storm, you dolt. We better head inside, and work on the indoor chores." Lilith suggested. Angela readily agreed and the two headed indoors.
Cassandra rummaged through the kitchen, hurriedly looking for the wedding plans her father usually stashed in the "rubbish" drawer. The large manila envelope was nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch; eleven-thirty. On a normal day, trudging to Don's small condo from her estate usually took about fifteen minutes. But today, Cassandra estimated the added time would be much longer because of the snow. It was beginning to fall heavily.
"Father!" she called up the stairs. She could hear Mortimer moving about in his bedroom.
"Father!" she yelled again, and Mortimer's head poked over the banister. "Have you seen the wedding plans?"
"Aren't they in the rubbish drawer?"
"No, I can't find them," Cassandra raked her thoughts for any idea as to where the extremely important plans could be. She needed to go over them with Don during their date, to make sure everything was perfect for the winter wonderland wedding.
"Check the hall closet, I may have put them there. You know me," Mortimer scoffed. "I'm getting older by the day, and my memory isn't what it used to be."
"Thanks, Daddy!" Cassandra called, rushing over to the hall closet. Like he said, the manila envelope containing the plans was folded over in the inside pocket of Mortimer's winter coat. Cassandra extracted the folder, relieved. She checked her watch again. Only five minutes had passed. Her cell phone buzzed again. The caller ID gave Don's name.
"Hey,"
"Hey, sweetie," Don's melodic voice hummed through the earpiece like a wave of calm that soothed Cassandra automatically. "I'm on my way. It might take a little longer than usual, because of the snow."
"It's alright," Cassandra said apologetically, although Don hadn't apologized for anything. "Don, we should probably just discuss our wedding plans here, instead of at the café. I don't want to drive on these roads." She glanced outside; the snow was, if it was possible, falling still more heavily.
"I was thinking the exact same thing," Don's voice wrapped around Cassandra's ear like a warm blanket. "Saves money, and gas too."
"I'll see you soon, then?"
"Of course, love you honey." There was a click as Don hung up. Cassandra flipped her phone shut and stowed it back in her pocket. She walked over to the sitting room, and flopped down on the divan sofa. She was exhausted, and it wasn't even noon yet! She moved to a more comfortable position, and let her eyes droop.
Mortimer answered the door when it rang. Cassandra was fast asleep in the sitting room, snoring contentedly in the comfortable divan that Mortimer had received as a wedding present. Don was at the door—Finally, Mortimer thought snidely—covered in snow, his red sports car parked on the curb.
"Mr. Lothario, what a pleasure to see you." Mortimer lied through his teeth, stepping aside to let Don in. The man flashed Mortimer a smile, a big mouth filled with impeccably white teeth.
"And a pleasure to be invited into your home, as always," Don said, taking off his leather jacket. He held it up for Mortimer to take.
I'm not your maid, Mortimer thought angrily, but he took the coat anyways. By now Don should've known where to stow his coat after dating Cassie for at least two years, but Mortimer would let this mistake slide. Don was going to be his new son-in-law soon, after all.
"I can't wait to see this place all decked out for the wedding tomorrow!" Don was saying, glancing about the foyer in glee. Yes, and you can't wait to see it all become yours, as well, Mortimer considered saying, but he held his tongue. He made a mental note to contact his lawyer as soon as Don was out of the house to make sure his youngest, Alex, received the estate and part of the fortune in his will. There couldn't be any loopholes. Mortimer was aware his days were numbered, and he had to tie up any loose ends before the Grim Reaper paid his awful visit.
"So where's Cassandra?" Don turned to face Mortimer, clapping his hands together.
"In the parlor," Mortimer pointed, although he was sure Don knew where the room was located. "She's taking a nap now, I'm afraid. Can I get you something?"
"I'm fine," Don replied, already heading toward the parlor. "I've known you forever, Morty," (Mortimer hated that pet name Don always used—Morty, how revolting!) "So if I do need anything, I'll just help myself. I don't want to inconvenience you."
"Much appreciated," Mortimer growled. Don grinned another one of those impossibly white grins, then headed off to the sitting room, undoubtedly to wake Cassandra from her peaceful slumber. Mortimer fumed for a moment in the foyer, then realized he was still holding Don's dripping coat. He glared at the leather material hanging limply in his wrinkled hand, and then moved toward the hall closet to stash it in the most unforgiving corner. Maybe it would fall off the hanger onto the dusty floor. Mortimer smirked at the idea, but then wiped away the thoughts of malice. He wasn't a mean person; he'd always been a kind and gentle man, loved in the neighborhood for his generosity and sympathy. But Don brought out some sort of devil in Mortimer, he angered at the idea of him joining the family.
He heard Cassandra's voice float out of the parlor. Her words were muffled, but he could hear Don's voice answering her. He assumed they were seated on the divan, with the manila envelope open between them, reviewing and checking the final details on their wedding plans. Mortimer could not believe it was next week. He remembered when Bella gave birth—Bella. Mortimer faltered for a bit as he imagined his former wife, who had mysteriously disappeared. The rumor was she had been abducted by aliens, although Mortimer felt that theory was greatly blown out of proportion.
"Only abductions are heard of in Strangetown," he had scoffed at the townspeople almost ten years ago, right after Alexander was born. But, he always went onto the balcony of the Goth estate every night and scoured the heavens thorough his high-powered telescope, hoping to find something. He didn't know what he was specifically looking for, but he knew one day he would find a sign. A sign his Bella would return to him.