other room, her steps slightly unsteady, no doubt from the amount of alcohol that was already in her system. The bottle of wine she had taken was close to empty, even though he only managed to drink one glass during dinner. He was quite certain that once he left, it wouldn’t be the last bottle that she would consume. With a shake of his head, he went about picking up the dirty dishes, walking into the kitchen and placing them by the sink for the maids to get cleaned tomorrow.
He took his time washing his hands, thinking of a way to give her the gift that Marshall had asked him to get for her and leave. While he didn’t necessarily want to leave her alone, he also didn’t want to have to deal with comforting a drunk and hurt woman over his boss’ own stupidity. Drying his hands on a paper towel, he resolved himself to leaving at the first chance he got.
Walking back out to the foyer, he grabbed the gift bag that he had left on the table before heading towards the living room.
Anthony stopped in his tracks, just inside the entryway, at the sight before him. Cassandra sat at the bay window overlooking the back yard, her silhouette bathe in moonlight. His breath was caught in his throat as he noticed how the light seemed to catch in her long blonde hair, how it cast shadows on her face to give her an air of mystery, how it framed her figure making her seem more lithe than she already was.
Over the five years he had been working for Marshall Brooks, he met two of his wives. From other colleagues, he had heard stories about the first three and even others who their boss had pursued. The one thing they all seemed to have in common was that they were breathtakingly beautiful – and Cassandra definitely fit into that category. And it wasn’t all that surprising to people who knew the man.
Marshall may have been in his 50s but he still presented himself as quite the catch. He was a good looking man in his youth and he still kept that image. He looked young for his age and exercised regularly, making him fit. He was a smooth talker too, a characteristic that actually helped propel him to the top of his field of work. Add his success into the mix and women naturally flocked to him. Money was a big draw but it was the man himself that kept them interested and wanting to get married.
But as much as he was good with charming the ladies, Marshall’s first priority was always his first love – his work. Over time, what interest he may have shown to any of his girlfriends or wives would dwindle. While some would find solace in staying in the marriage for whatever his money could get them, the loneliness became too much more often than not, making them choose to leave to find happiness elsewhere than stay in a dead end love affair.
“Is that the gift he told you to get me?”
Cassandra’s voice shook Anthony out of his reverie, the sharpness of her tone bringing him back to reality. Raising his gaze to her face, he noted how she looked bored yet expectant.
“Yeah,” he replied distractedly. He approached the bay window where she still sat, smiling softly when she moved slightly and patted the spot beside her, silently telling him to take a seat. “Here you go,” he said, handing over the small paper bag.
“Tiffany’s,” she stated. “You have good taste. But then again, I’ve known that ever since the first gift came.”
His eyes snapped back to her face, a little surprised and a lot curious about what she meant. But she paid no mind to him, instead focusing on pulling on the ribbon that held the bag closed before fishing out the velvet box from inside the bag. She sighed as she dropped the bag on the floor, her thoughts resolved to dismissing whatever piece of jewelry was inside. But once she flicked the box open, she let out a gasp. Cradled inside the box was a platinum charm bracelet, already holding three charms. One look at each of the pieces left her both pleasantly
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley