Cassandra

Thanks so much to rhea\'s kochanie, Jester-Jami, Saige, and Harlequin for reviewing!



Enjoy this next installment!



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Was I afraid to go to work the next day?



Maybe a little.



Okay. Maybe a lot.



There was something about Dave\'s face that made me quiver in my flip-flops. That stone-hard expression of his that, instead of lighting up a room, it burnt out lightbulbs. I was almost tempted to call in sick or something, but that would mean explaining myself to my parents. Or worse, trying to explain myself to Dave.



Hm. And I thought Cassandra was going to be difficult to deal with.



I slowly walked down the pathway, feeling a chill as I thought of how The Green Mile this potentially felt. My hand hesitated on the base of the door in preparation to knock. I could still turn around and drive off and call him. Sighing, I knocked anyway.



"Come in, Taylor," Dave said as he opened the door, allowing me access. After he closed it, he slipped on his navy-blue jacket and grabbed his briefcase. "Don\'t work on the parlor today, please. The bathrooms down here need work, and the office does, as well. Whatever you get done is great."



I nodded in obedience. He seemed rather calm, but that didn\'t mean he wasn\'t infuriated or annoyed or whatever he was yesterday.



Just as he put his hand on the doorknob and I waved him good-bye, he mentioned, "Oh, Cassandra\'s up in the bedroom today. She\'s unwell. Please don\'t bother her."



Another nod, and he was out the door.



I kicked off my sandals and felt my face contort. It was going to be another no-show day for Cassandra? Bummer. I was kind of hoping we could have another luncheon today. Ugh, my stomach was starting to get antsy. Not time to think about food.



To get to the bathrooms and office, I could take either the room I\'d interviewed in or the parlor. Because I\'m a curious kitty, I chose the latter to see if any changes had been made to the room after I\'d worked on it the day prior. Indeed there was a noticeable change: the framed pictures and artworks had been taken down and leaned against their original walls like before. Wow. I guess Dave didn\'t appreciate my ramification of the room.



Shrugging off the slight offense, I walked out of that room and started on the bathrooms as commanded. Those weren\'t too bad, and I was finishing them up around lunchtime. Can you guess how my stomach was acting? I considered rummaging through the kitchen to make myself something to eat, but I voted against it. It\'d be awkward to just take food from their fridge. I had put a ten-dollar bill in the glove-compartment of my car in case of emergency. And a meatball sub sounded glorious...



Decision made.



Before I could scamper to my shoes and fly out the door, however, I felt it would only be appropriate to let Cassandra know that I was taking off for lunch. I was almost positive that she wouldn\'t mind. Plus, she may have wanted me to get her something. Medicine maybe? A cookie?



The master bedroom door was shut, and I wasn\'t going to try opening it. That would be poor decision-making. Instead, I softly knocked on the door and called in a light voice, "Cassandra?" I waited a moment, leaning close to the wooden structure. Not a sound came through. "Cassandra," I said through something relatable to a whisper, "I\'m going to get some lunch. Do you need anything?" Again, there was silence. Twitching my lips in confusion, I murmured, "Okay, I\'ll be right back," and headed down the staircase.



I drove to the nearest Subway and bought myself a six-inch meatball sub and two chocolate-chip cookies, one for me and one for Cassandra if she was up for it. After kicking off my shoes for the second time that day, I carried my lunch through the parlor and into the dining room, glancing quickly up the stairs to see if anyone had decided to come down.



Gently setting the bag down on the dining table, I peered upward to see a figure at the counter, shaking something into its palm. Obviously it was Cassandra with her dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail behind her head, black streaks flailing at the sides, and dressed in sweats that hung loosely on her slim body. So she had resolved to come down after all.



Smiling slightly, I said, "Hi, Cassandra."



I heard her gasp and watched her body shake as she turned around to see me. I caught the briefest glimpse of her red eyes and cheeks, and the red gash upon the left corner of her lip. The view was obstructed, though, when she angled her face and let her long bangs shield what I thought I\'d seen on her mouth. "Taylor," she breathed, clenching something in her fist. "You startled me."



With my eyebrows together out of confusion, I murmured, "I\'m sorry. Are you alright? Dave told me you weren\'t well, and I thought I saw something on your--"



"Oh, it\'s nothing," she said, rather defensively, almost snapping at my remark. "I just came down to get some aspirin"-- she held up her closed fist to show me some kind of proof of that --"and go back to bed." Her one brown eye that wasn\'t concealed by her black hair didn\'t follow the same suit as her voice appealed. It looked upset with the forest of red veins surrounding the soft brown. Not agitated. Sorrowful or something. "Enjoy your lunch," she mumbled as she leaned away from the counter and walked towards me to go up to her confinement.



When she nearly made it past my reach, I remembered something. "Cassandra, wait!" I called, driving my hand into the bag on the table. "I bought you a cookie. If you don\'t want it, that\'s okay. I just... thought it\'d help you feel better."



She held the fist up to her mouth while she looked at me, as if she could hide the injury that I\'d already noticed. The corner of her mouth that was still visible steadily curved upward when she took a few steps closer to me again, and she took the cookie gently from my palm. "Thank you, Taylor," she whispered, her red eyes softening.



I blushed and pushed some hair behind my ears. "It\'s no problem," I replied shyly, avoiding eye contact. Even in her loose clothes and make-up-less face and untidy hair, she was awfully beautiful.



My stomach no longer growled. It was only filled with butterflies.



She went upstairs and left me in peace to eat my lunch. I didn\'t feel as hungry anymore. I felt weird... like my stomach was doing handstands and backflips. I\'d felt like this only once before in fifth grade with a boy, Anthony Whipper -- yes, that\'s his name. I kid you not -- but what I was feeling currently seemed so much more vibrant and overwhelming. My heart was buzzing and something strange was happening... down there.



Oh god. I... I liked Cassandra?



I mean, she was gorgeous, right? And she had this beautiful smile with those dimples. And her laugh was music to my ears. But she was a woman. And married, too, for god sakes! That was... How could I think of her in that way? That was horrible of me. Not that anything would ever develop between us. She was a woman, a beautiful one at that, and I was a teenage, confused maid of hers.



And if... If Dave ever found out my infatuation...



I shivered at the thought of his stone-hard face.



This was something I had to keep to myself. It would go away eventually. I just had to focus on the housework and that\'s all. Getting paid, too. Yes, money was good. Yes, money was very good. Money was the only reason I wanted this job so I could help my parents.



I sat down at the table and unwrapped my lunch. My stomach was beginning to settle and my heart was regulating at a slow pace. I ate by myself, keeping my thoughts to a minimum as I chewed on the bread, meat, and sauce that pleased my taste buds. Once my sub was finished, I placed the wrapper back into its plastic holder and pulled out the other chocolate-chip cookie I\'d bought.



My heart swelled up in my chest cavity and ate up my lungs and ribcage and stomach and everything inbetween.



Fuck. I liked Cassandra.