"Come on! Admit it! You missed me."

"I didn't have the time to miss you, Cassie. It's not that you've been away for long this time."

Every time JC had tried to hold a grudge against Cassie for her sudden disappearances she had miserably failed. This time she didn't even try. She was grateful she had returned and deep down she knew that her father's funeral was the reason for it. The only part missing from the puzzle was who among their common friends attending the service had let her know.

"I'm so sorry, duck. For your dad…I should have been there for you—" Cassandra's big green eyes were honest and sad. For a moment, JC was afraid she would have to comfort her in the middle of the café but a sip of cappuccino and a few deep breaths later the threat of tears had passed.

"You have to tell me everything about what happened! I can't believe this new apartment of yours—"

Cassie could balance between feelings like an acrobat balancing on a thin rope. She wasn't the classical moody person. JC preferred to think that grief and joy were very close in Cassandra's feelings-spectrum.

"It's not my apartment, Cassie. Kepler is paying for it and now I should probably start looking for another place."

"Why? We didn't have a decent pajama party there yet. I could arrange it with Karen and the girls. Bring that girl from work—"

"Fran—"

"Yes, last time she cooked that incredible Thai." Cassie's voice had a dreamy tone. "Why do you have to leave? It's not that Kepler will get poor because of you. He's even gotten you a bodyguard!" Cassandra's voice had turned into a naughty whisper.

"Cassie! Radek is not a bodyguard. He's more of a driver." He had driven them to that beautiful Southbank terraced coffee shop with the amazing view of the Thames. JC felt absolutely decadent thinking he waited in the car while they had their coffee. "And there's no need for him, too, now that we have the arson specialist's report." She didn't sound satisfied and she was fully aware of how ridiculous that was.

"What does it say?"

"That nothing in the fire in my apartment indicates an arson. It was an accident. An accident waiting to happen considering the building's poor maintenance. I think my landlord will be facing charges."

Cassie pursed her lips and frowned in a deep-thinking grimace. Any other woman would look ugly. Cassandra, with her natural strawberry blonde hair shining under the pale sun, looked cute.

"He's attractive though—" Typical Cassie. When they were talking about one thing, she moved to another. Preferably men. "I'd let him 'guard' my body. Yep, I could easily let him—"

"If you like men with sunken cheeks—"

"He looks more intimidating that way." Cassie said this clearly as a compliment.

"I guess the fact he speaks not a word in English would be a turn-on for you."

Cassandra smiled behind her cup. "He doesn't speak it at all?" She made it sound so sinful.

"It's not as if he's dumb. I've only heard him say a couple of words in Polish before he rushed to hang up once he saw me approaching. That's all."

"Pity! I like my men dumb. They are smarter that way. Anyway, I can learn all the right Polish words." Mock seduction lingered in her voice as she lowered it. JC burst out laughing. Cassie should exist in a pill—the absolute anti-depressant. "And those eyes—" she went on in the same style.

"It's sectoral heterochromia, mostly genetic," offered JC, sweeping away tears of laughter.

"Girl, you're smart!" Cassie exclaimed and finished her tea. "So, what's up with him? Why don't you like him?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Except for the fact you dislike every man who's not Kepler? Yes, it is."

"Two reasons," JC raised two fingers. "He's dull." He was always playing a silly game on his smartphone, and when once she had asked him what it was he just showed her the screen without uttering a word. "And he's rude. One day, I brought him coffee. He just took a sip, made a grimace and left it on the passenger's seat beside him."

"Perhaps it wasn't as he liked it."

"I thought about it, too, even though I'd brought cream and sugar sticks. That's not all. Next morning, I see him with a paper cup of coffee in the car. One, only for him. Shouldn't he get one for me, too? That's the polite thing to do."

"Can you blame the man? Who wants to be your chauffeur? You're a snob, JC. You're smart and you are snobby towards the rest of us—the less smart." Cassie made a silly face. "You have rules about the way people should behave and when they don't act accordingly, you condemn them."

"Funny. The point is that if you think Radek Alionin is attractive, your jaw will drop when you see Dylan. He's a god compared to Radek. Come to Taylor's party with me and you'll see for yourself."

"You've warmed up towards him."

"He's a good man." That was all JC told Cassie about Dylan and the way he had stood by her during "Ben's Tour" day. "My treat," she got the bill after waving to the waiter, "the least I can do for my fashion consultant". Cassie flashed her a smile.

Cassandra sat behind Radek in the car and started making all kinds of silly, "he's cute" signs to JC who turned red trying to keep a straight face.

"Radek," Cassie stroked his bare arm—he wore another of his rock band T-shirts—using her velvety, "all-seduction" voice, "will you please go get my sunglasses? I must have left them on the table."

Radek immediately checked with JC in the mirror, and she hid her face in her hands but not before mouthing a silent "I'm sorry" to the man who quickly complied to the request.

"Cassie! The man is not your servant!" JC yelled at the blonde, whose eyes followed Radek. "And you called me a snob!"

"I can't say if a man is remotely attractive before seeing his butt. Ohh, Cassie approves. A hundred percent approves. Even though he's a bit young for my taste—"

"You're unbelievable! And evil!" JC tried to sound condemnatory but she couldn't restrain a smile. Poor Radek, if Cassie got her teeth into him, he'd have no chance. "Not too late for some intensive Polish lessons."

"Can't afford it, JC. My master has a strong hold on me."

"And his name is Visa. Have you arranged any favorable payment plans? Banks do that lately."

"Not to incurable cases. Euthanasia or jail. That's what banks suggest in my case."

"You know I can lend you money."

"From the account you don't touch? That's Kepler's money. Since you don't use it, I don't use it."

Radek was back with Cassie's red sunglasses and they stopped talking.

No point in starting the same talk all over again. JC would stick to her argument that it was one thing to accept money for her father and another to accept it for herself since she was perfectly capable of supporting herself. Cassie would argue that support to patients' family was a common policy in charities.

Then JC in all her pride would point out that she refused to accept a "charity inside the charity" by benefiting from her father's condition. In the past they would have fallen into silence, replaying the whole conversation in their minds, each one hoping to find the winning argument until one of them would say:

"You know I'm right."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

Cassie would say JC was stubborn—what else was new?—and that some day she'd give up being her best friend and just ask her the typical "how are you", "how you've been" questions. Nine out of ten times they would end up laughing.

JC was certain Cassandra was thinking of the same thing herself, only this time was different.

Ben was dead and no charity was needed anymore. A huge chapter of JC's life had ended leaving only unfinished business behind and JC had no clue how the next chapter would begin.

"As your fashion consultant, I recommend this."

"What is this contraption?" JC examined the sandal with the curiosity of a scientist. "I'll look like a pole dancer on these heels. That is if I manage to take a step. Give me something more woman-friendly."

"They are supposed to be woman-friendly. They make your calves longer." Cassandra talked as if she were addressing an imbecile. "And it's not a matter of height," Cassie rushed to add to avoid any comments on her own petite frame.

"These heels alone are a disgrace to the women's movement. Even worse! It's as if the women's rights movement never existed!"

"Unless you plan on wearing slippers to make an impression, this pair is a perfect fit for the sexy dress you bought."

"Then I have to buy another dress for the party. In the world where these shoes can exist, women don't even vote. I bet a man designed them." JC narrowed her eyes at the pair of peeptoes Cassandra shoved in her face.

"Are you a feminist?" Cassandra's voice was all business.

"I need my bra, but I need my legs, too—they aren't decorative."

"Mine either." Cassie looked as if she could run on her four-inch heels and JC believed her. "You didn't tell me…why do you want to leave this lovely—rent-free—apartment?" Cassie moved to safer conversational waters than feminism.

"I think I did tell you. I have no reason to stay there anymore."

"Did Kepler say something? Imply anything?" One didn't need to have studied psychology to see Cassie's suspicions about Kepler had been resurrected in full force.

"On the contrary. He said that rent is paid up for the next six months and there's no hurry," JC rushed to defend him. "He just sent me that specialist report." What JC didn't share with Cassie was that he had left it at her apartment after the "Ben's Tour" day. That night, she'd cried herself to sleep in his arms on the white sofa. The morning after she'd found the report on the kitchen table along with a note with the familiar arrows pointing to coffee and breakfast. No "Kepler" this time.

"Perhaps he didn't want you to worry—"

"It's more than that." Now that Ben was dead…. "He set me free."

Read, review and share the love… :-)

A big, huge "Thank You" to all of you who read this story, the ones who review it (you warm my heart!) and TOWDNWTBN along with Vale who'd been there for me when it was written.

STAY SAFE!