A Love Story
15)
Diana had no idea, in any way, how he'd managed to convince her and Cady to get in the car, but, here she was, being signed in at the front desk. The room around them was pleasantly decorated, in tones of pale blues and greens, with a dash of yellow for a touch of color. The assistant behind the desk, an older woman with gray-streaked hair, took the clipboard back, offering an elegant smile to him.
Diana, as the woman's clear gaze began scanning the papers, glanced over her shoulders at the small girl curled up on the chair; despite the fact that she had been dressed and her mop of hair brushed out, Cady was still out cold. Only a child could sleep like that, honestly.
"You ready for a nice, long day of mud baths and pedicures and stone treatments?" Diana glanced back at grinning JR, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the positively gleeful look on his face. Behind the desk, the woman was stapling some of the papers. At Diana's cocked eyebrow, JR stretched out his hands in a pleading gesture, "Come on, I set this up just for you."
"JR, this is sweet, really, but you didn't need to do this… this is probably so expensive—"
But he was not to be deterred; instead, he, chuckling like some human embodiment of Satan, simply took her arms lightly, wriggling his eyebrows mockingly, "I have enough money, believe me! Besides, you made me pancakes, right? Think of this as a thank you."
"And how much does this thank you cost?"
He just grinned, turned her and began pushing her towards the woman, who had stood and was now regarding JR with a broad grin. "Ah, Ms. Cole, you are a lucky, lucky girl… a complete day-long stay at the spa? We will, of course, be giving you the best treatments… come along."
Diana had one second to let out a squeak of "Hey!" before the woman had grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her forward, dragging her around and behind the desk, through the doorway and out of sight of the chuckling Chandler.
It was a rare moment of quiet in the town of Pine Valley… well, except for the fact that Erica Kane had temporarily gone insane and that, somewhere in Switzerland, JR had found his thought-dead mother and sister, not to mention the fact of the loophole that had been typed up on a single, all-powerful piece of paper.
Another thing that was going on in Switzerland was the escape attempt of Tad "the Cad" Martin, still bound and gagged on a hotel bed, trying to figure out a way to escape from Dumb and Dumber and serve Adam "BOSS" Chandler a gruesome death. But we will give our full attention to our beloved Cad very shortly… for now, let us turn our attention towards what could be one of the most devious plots of the one and only Erica Kane.
Well, unless you count the plot that includes the helicopter and the wedding dress… eh, either way, it'll be humorous for us who think it is. So, now, we join our favorite Kane at her home with Jackson Montgomery.
She almost felt guilty at betraying Jack like this… almost. Yes, this was horrible to do to him, especially with their wedding coming up, but, in the end, Jack was Jack and Kendall… Kendall was her daughter and that was most important. And, so, she had come up with this streak of brilliance… a streak that was sure to end in a divorce between her daughter and that piece of trash from Vegas.
When Jack had gone to get her something to eat, Erica's small hand darted into her bag, searching and digging until her hands found the roll of film, shoved down at the bottom. Smirking triumphantly to herself, she held up the roll before brown eyes, studying it intently.
She was very used to the feel of power and, boy, was this power! Erica sat there, glowing… until Jack came back with a tray; with a soft squeak, she shoved the roll behind her pillow just in time to turn full attention to her fiancé.
She watched, guiltily, as he set out the food, but, nonetheless, she didn't speak up. Not yet, not until Kendall was safe from that creep… no, not until Kendall was safe. Even if it meant she lost Jack forever. Yet, this painful decision didn't stop her from purring in his ear "Tee ka gran, Foofoo?"
It was common knowledge in Pine Valley that Ruth Martin had had a slight crush on MacGyver ever since the show had premiered. And so it was that, at times, Tad Martin could create himself an escape from any known implement of containment… except for handcuffs… he'd missed that episode…
Tad raised his head cautiously, surveyed Dumb and Dumber… hard to tell the difference to be honest. But, nevertheless, there they were, sitting together, playing Poker. Yeah, only crooks of Adam's would play Poker while keeping him held hostage. Looking up, Tad pulled his arms again, once again getting nothing but more pain at his wrists.
With a groan, ignoring the laughter from Dumb and Dumber, he closed his eyes and tried to remember a way to pick a lock by the power of his mind. It was an intriguing idea… except for the fact that, within two point three minutes, he was out cold.
Maxie, wearing the most expensive dress she had, studied the gate of the airport over both her celebrity magazine and her black glasses; long legs ended in shoes that cost more than most people's monthly earnings. She was slightly disappointed that no one had come up to compliment her new clothes… and the large amount of money they cost.
Her dark hair, now newly laced with pale and dark blonde highlights, hung straight to her shoulders; her eyes, hidden now behind the dark glasses, were the same strong, shocking hazel as Zach's… she was seriously considering contacts at the moment. Today, though, her focus was on the plane in from Vegas.
One heeled foot jerked thoughtfully as she finally closed the magazine and tossed it away, ignoring the murderous the look from the man it hit in the head. Her fingers, now decorated by bands of gold and several diamonds, glittered as she reached up to thoughtfully fiddle with the ends of her hair.
God, how long did it take for Harley to get her shit together and get her ass off the plane! Disgruntled and furious, Maxie leaned forward, studying the slowing trail of people getting off the plane. Just when she was about to charge in and start suing everybody, there came the most irritating red-head to ever strut across a stage.
Snapping to her feet, Maxie strode across the floor, heels clicking a kind of war beat against the tiles. Snatching her glasses off and into her leather bag, she grabbed Harley by the arm, receiving a cuss in return, and took off, practically dragging Harley.
Shoving Harley into the bathroom, and giving the woman in there such a lethal look that she darted away, pale, Maxie finally turned her full gaze to Harley, letting out a hiss of, "How long does it take you to get your ass off the plane, Harley!"
"Oh, for—" With a disgusted snort, and flipping her violent red hair—Jesus, does she know nothing about complexion?—the older woman set her bag down on the sink. "Believe it or not, I was not created just to piss you off, Maxie…"
"Ms. Cambias."
A startled look passed over her face, a widening of her eyes… "What?" she asked softly. "You're kidding right?"
Maxie, however, laughed, dug her glasses out of her bag and put them back on, and peered at Harley over them, a rather nasty glance that made the hair on the red-head's arms stand up in annoyance… and something else. "I don't kid about billions, Harley. Now follow me if you want to keep your job."
Zach Slater, born as Alexander Cambias Jr. before he'd set up his own death, sat at his desk, staring at a stack of papers he didn't see, trying to figure out something that had been plaguing him for the last day and a half. Most people would think that this "problem" was, actually, wonderful and a blessed gift, not to be given up easily.
Zach, however, sadly, did not see Kendall's apparent caring as a blessed gift… in other words, he was a very confused Casino owner. His always stressed forehead had been working overtime and was beginning to crease his actual skull. Anyone watching him would be rather unnerved at the way he, every couple of minutes, would begun mumbling to himself under his breath.
The good five minutes would invariably to a furious shake of the head and shoulders and a smack of his desk; the smack of his hand against the desk, of course, led to another full minute of mumbling, flexing his hand. He had no idea that, after a good three hours of this nonsense, a woman just outside his room had filled in a good three pages in the small book that held "Zach Slater and Kendall Hart: An In-depth study on the Art of Romance in the Modern World… Can Love Begin After Marriage?"
If he had… well, we shouldn't really know what he'd do, our ears may fall off and we wouldn't want that, would we?
Anyway, Zach was, as previously mention, deeply confused. Even though he was a man, he'd had, strangely enough, very few times when he was truly bewildered. It was nerve-wracking and stressful, and, as of right now, all his thoughts were focused on why she could give a damn.
It wasn't, in any way, something he could completely comprehend. Sure, his father had loved him… in a way. Alexander Cambias Senior had cared, just not the way a father was supposed to care. No, while other fathers were taking their sons to baseball games, Alex senior was kicking his son around from continent to continent.
Growing up, he'd dreaded coming home, dreaded to hear the words, over and over again, even if it meant coming home to Michael, his one bright spot in the world of a Cambias heir. Those moments remained, even after years of forceful attacks on them, the strongest memories of his childhood. Those few moments, here and there, of no pressure or need, because, as far as Michael was concerned, his big brother Alex was everything he could possibly need or want.
Now, years later, he still had quite a bit to learn about family dynamics… for one thing, what family dynamics were. Oh, sure, he had seen a few examples in Las Vegas, but, still, not enough to make him stop cringing when he heard the words "family" and "love" in the same sentence… it didn't happen like that... not for people like him.
With an irritated scratch of his neck, he finally pushed his chair back from the desk, knowing it was useless to pretend right now. He needed to get past this nonsense, right? After all, Hart, letting herself care about him? With a snort, he decided that was about as believable as the fact that Erica was secretly glad to call him "son".
That's right, Zach, so get it out of your head, clear it away and stop the crap… it's never going to happen… you're never going to have someone look at you… love you as you are… they can't, can they?
"What did I do?"
"What did you do? You got rid of it."
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
"I found the proof in the garage… my baby is gone… I love that golf ball washer. It was like a part of me."
"All right! I hated it! It was ugly, it was icky."
"How would you like it if I got rid of that stupid pig with a chef's hat on top of the refrigerator?"
"You wouldn't dare touch Pierre LePudge!"
If Dumb and Dumber had been watching him, they would have noticed the slight smile that crossed the near comatose Cad's face… a flash of memory that always came up when he slept like this. Here, there was no accident… here… there was just a stupid pig with a chef's hat…
"What have you done with Pierre?"
"LePudge is sludge."
Very quietly, in the empty room, Tad chuckled softly in his sleep, remembering the look on her face, the way she'd cocked her hip, tilted her head… the way, afterwards, she'd smelled when she'd tackled him in the kitchen. Much fun had been had in the kitchen, much fun and… well, the night had not been wasted.
The feel of Cady in his arms was a warm weight, a soft force against his chest and shoulder. Yeah, his back was killing him from carrying her down to the café, but he didn't give a damn at the moment. Now, an hour after leaving his mother at the spa, he was sitting at a table, with Cady, waiting for Gina to arrive.
So far, despite the ache at the base of his spine, his left leg hadn't acted up and, for that, he was pathetically thankful. She sat on his right leg, legs hanging off the side, arms around his neck and face buried in his shoulder, a large stain spreading across his jacket.
She felt like Bess—Miranda, her name is Miranda and she isn't yours—in his arms. Heavier, of course, but the way she laid, the way she held him, the sound of the breathing. He raised one hand, set it on her back, felt it rise and fall with each slow breath. Bess would have felt this in two years, would have lain against him like…
"Are you Mr. Chandler?"
JR looked over, cringing inwardly at the young woman standing before him, holding her place with her fingers in a cheap romance novel; she wore what looked like a necklace made of… Jesus Christ, what did a woman who wore paper clips around her neck have the right to do with his sister!
Yet, before he could fire her strange ass, the strange one herself had pulled his Kate out of his arms and flopped her over her shoulder… JR felt suddenly, intensely, cold, a rush of chill that caused his breath to hitch and his insides to ache; it felt like freezing from the inside out.
Struggling to breathe past it, he dug his nails into the table, and went to get to his feet to go after her and get back Kate… and the spasm hit him so hard that his leg lashed out, connecting with the chair. With a ragged grunt of agony, he stumbled back, the knee buckling as he latched both hands onto the table top, letting his weight hit it and slide down to the chair.
It went on and on, his breath coming in short pants, fighting to loosen the muscle around his lungs and fill them with new air… and then it was over. With sweat beading on his forehead and neck, his hands were shaking, his vision slowly clearing past a gray haze of pain.
It had been over a year since he'd been hit like this; he'd gotten past it, worked the muscles back into shape. And he had been okay, better, gotten back to how good he once was. So… why the fuck did this time feel so different?
Kendall, in a state of deep female depression refused to leave her house since Zach had sent her back to her home by way of foot. In one of her older robes, wearing her pink glitter mask, eating from a half-carton of ice cream, refusing to acknowledge the messages that were made of words like "Nadda" and "harff"… many, many "harff"s.
But when she heard the sharp rapping on the door, her British-meter went off; now excited, she pushed "mute" on the TV, heading to the door. Ethan had barely a second to ask "Did Simone get a new outfit?" before his new best friend launched into his arms, wailing something about crazy mommies and big, mean husbands.
Okay, no going back to England unless she has her room prepared at Oakhaven, he decided, patting her back awkwardly.
Micaela's luck was turning; in the middle of her massage, just as she was beginning to consider running over and falling to her knees, Micaela found herself meeting a fellow Southerner, a lovely woman by the name of Diana Cole. The older woman, with her blonde hair wound up and conditioned, happily responded to Micaela's cautious attempt at conversation.
Soon, the two were happily chatting about the existence of Yankees among them… but for the life of her, Micaela couldn't figure out how their conversation got on children and family… or the lack of one.