Chapter 5 5

Chapter 5

A sudden series of angry outbursts erupted around the table. Cassandra heard Mary gasp something like, "Outrageous!"; Hope uttered one like, "Insolent bitch," or it might have been something else because Cassandra just couldn't imagine Hope saying the word bitch; William Strindberg just said, "Oh Holy God..." and closed his eyes.

Cassandra on the other hand couldn't really find the right words-after all, she didn't really know what was going on. Thank goodness though that Philip was still in his senses because he grabbed the red-haired girl's slender shoulders and pushed her away none too gently.

"What?" Angelica asked in amusement, oblivious of the six pairs of eyes throwing daggers at her.

"What do you think are you doing, Ange?" Philip snapped and his eyes instinctively searched Cassandra's startled ones and said, "I'm sorry about that, sweetheart," he frowned up at Angelica and continued, "Angelica here seems to have had too much to drink."

"I..." Cassandra started but no idea how to continue.

Angelica's pretty head quickly turned down towards Cassandra with a grimace. "So," she staggered back on her heels in two tiny steps as she looked Cassandra over. "This is your little secret fiancée?" she turned to look at Philip like he was crazy and added, "I thought she's like a goddess, not some..." she looked back at Cassandra to emphasize her point, "witless-"

"That's enough, Angelica," Chanty interrupted, held her friend by the arms and turned towards the group around the table, "I'm sorry guys, I did not intend this to happen," she turned to Cassandra and said, "I'd have loved to meet you in a much better way, but..." she trailed off.

"Oh, come on, Chanty!" Angelica cried out, chuckling at her friend. "You can't mean that!"

"Get her home," William's authoritative voice spoke from the head of the table.

"I can't believe you brought her here in her condition, Chanty," Mary said with disappointment.

"Mom, I'm sorry. She started drinking early. I didn't want her to come but she insisted, saying she'd make a scene if I don't let her," Chanty apologized at the group, holding her friend tightly by the arms. "I'll go get her home now."

"That's the best thing to do," Hope nodded, looking at Angelica disapprovingly.

"No, I wanna have dinner with you guys-" Angelica started.

"No, Ange, go home," Philip's cold voice stopped her and Cassandra almost felt sorry for the poor lady.

"Let's go, Ange," Chanty ushered her friend backward, embarrassed with the attention they drew from the other guests in the restaurant. "I'll make it up to you guys," she said as goodbye to the group before turning her friend around.

"There's still time to back out, Philip!" Angelica shouted over her lungs just as Chanty dragged her out of the room.

The table was silent for a very long time.

"I lost my appetite," Hope said, placing her napkin on the table.

Mary grabbed Cassandra's hand across the table and squeezed it gently, "I'm sorry about that, dear. She's not usually like that."

"That's okay-"

"Of course it's not okay!" Hope fumed. "That girl needs some help."

"Couldn't agree more," William shook his head slowly as he said that.

"Angelica's having problems of her own," Mary disagreed. "She was once a sweet girl."

"I think Cass is in shock," Philip noticed, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "Maybe we should go home?"

"But the main course-"

"I don't think anyone can continue with this dinner in the same energy as we started," Philip interrupted his mother's protest.

"Yes, I agree," William nodded. "We can always set another one."

"No," Philip said too quickly, "I mean we can always have a blast at the wedding party, right?"

"We'll reset a date tomorrow," Hope said to her grandson.

"Tomorrow's the day before the wedding and we have so many things to patch up," he took Cassandra's hand and smiled at his family, "I don't want Cass getting tired."

"Oh, yes, of course," Mary said in understanding, "Well then, see you at the wedding, my dear. And if you have any trouble tomorrow, don't hesitate to call, okay?" she smiled warmly at Cassandra.

Cassandra tried to smile back, but thankfully, the group understood that she was not up to it as she was five minutes ago-even though it was all just pretend. "Yes, okay, I'll remember that. Thank you and see you," was all she could muster before Philip guided her to stand up. She turned to William and Hope and gave them a small smile. It was awkward. Should she kiss them or hug them? Okay, fine, a smile was the safest.

"See you at the wedding, guys," Philip said and they walked out of the restaurant hand in hand.

She snatched her hand back the moment she was sure they are out of sight and glared at her adorable, crazy future husband.

"What?" he asked with irritation and faced her, their faces just inches apart it almost threw her back when she felt that same current flow through her again.

"What's what?" Apparently, she was able to gather herself again despite everything that happened to her in one day.

"Is this about Angelica?" he asked. "If you're worried or jealous-"

"Ha!" she huffed, cutting him off, "jealousy is the last thing you'll get from me, my dear."

"Then what's the problem?" his brows drew a straight line.

"I just want to make it clear to you that once we're married, I don't want to be humiliated like that again. I don't care what you do with that girl," she stopped to stress out her next statement, "just make sure to be discreet about it."

He looked at her incredulously. "What made you think I'd do anything with her? She's just someone who-"

"Whatever. Just remember what I said," she started to walk out the restaurant.

"Wait," he grabbed her by the wrist and whirled her around to face him, "I don't really have something going on with Angelica-"

"You don't have to explain-"

"Stop interrupting me," he ordered rather harshly, "because I have news for you too."

She did not dare ask, so she kept silent.

"Once we're married, I don't want you to have any sexual encounters with anyone. Understand?"

She frowned, "Sexual encounters?"

"Lovers, boyfriends, whatever you call that," he explained.

"And you can?"

"Can what?"

"Can have lovers, girlfriends, whatever you call that," she repeated his words.

"Why would I need one when I can have you?" His frown slowly disappeared and he grinned down at her. His sudden change of mood unnerved her in a way she couldn't explain.

She gasped, "In your dreams, Mr. Strindberg," she grabbed back her hand and whirled around, "that's one of the last things you'll get out from this marriage."

She heard him chuckle in a low voice behind her which only infuriated her. She walked out of the doors and she tried to ignore him as much as she could as the valet maneuvered the car towards them. The moment it stopped in front of them, she walked to the back door, climbed inside and slammed it shut.

They drove in silence.

"You're perfume is too strong," he finally said as he stopped the car at red light.

"What?"

"Your perfume is too strong," he repeated, throwing her a glance over his shoulder.

Thank God for the darkness of the night, he couldn't see her face flush in embarrassment. "I spilled half of the bottle on my bed and most of it went to my dress," she lied. There was no way she was telling him her dress came out of a box from two years ago and the perfume was the only solution.

He seemed to believe her because he did not say anything about her strong scent; instead, he changed the topic, "Free your day tomorrow."

"Why?" she leaned forward to look at him. She planned to do some unfinished paintings tomorrow.

"In case you forgot, tomorrow is the day before the wedding and you don't have a dress yet."

"Why would I need a dress? I thought it would just be us and the judge and some witnesses?" It was what she really imagined after all.

"You're marrying a Strindberg, Cassandra. And you met my family. They would never settle for a simple wedding."

"You mean I'm actually going down the aisle?" she asked in horror.

He looked at her at the rearview mirror as he started the car when the lights turned green, "My family thinks we've been planning this wedding for half a year now."

"What?!" she cried in disbelief, "You led your family to believe that you are going to be married a long time ago?"

"Well, not that long. I spilled the news a month ago, before I signed a contract with your dad."

"You already gave them my name a month ago?"

"Yes, of course," she saw him shrug his shoulders.

"You were so sure then that you would have a contract with my father? And how did you know about me a month ago?"

"I do my own research and planning. Stop asking questions. We better think of some story to tell my family."

"What story?"

"Where we met, how we met, when and where I proposed...stuff like that," he explained, "my grandmother is very specific with details and I'm sure she'd ask you a lot of questions sooner or later." He reached inside his breast pocket and took out a piece of paper. He handed it to her.

She reached over to get it, "What's this?"

"That's pretty much everything you should know about me. Don't worry about your profile-your father gave it to me when we signed the contract."

"Huh, wouldn't be surprised about that at all," she muttered as she dropped the paper inside her clutch bag without reading it. She had all evening to go through it. "So, about our story?"

"Yes, the story," he said, remembering their original topic, "I told them we met through a mutual friend at a party in Chicago, talked, dated for almost two years but only that I kept it a secret from them until now; I proposed in Paris last year, you said yes, and now we're getting married in two days."

She took some time to take it all in and finally asked, "Tell me more about the proposal."

"Why?"

"People always want to know every detail of the proposal," she said, her voice telling him that he of all people should know that.

"You add the details, that's all I told my family and so far, they accepted it."

"Of course they accepted it because they always ask the bride about the proposal, not the groom."

"Then what do you suggest the proposal was?"

"I don't know, you tell me. I was not there."

"Neither was I."

"But you thought of it. Not really my problem if this little story of ours gets jumbled up."

He sighed, "Fine. I proposed inside a café, the ring was mixed in your ice cream, you got it, your cried, said yes, the people clapped with glee and that was it."

"I cried? No, that can't be. I just laughed with joy, no crying."

"Fine, you laughed with joy, teary-eyed."

"What's with the tears? No, no tears. I was just plain happy and laughed and my eyes were dry."

He shook his head, "Grandmother's not gonna like that. She'd prefer you cried."

"I don't really care, okay? I didn't cry. Period."

"Fine."

"Fine," she snapped back.

He stopped the car and she realized they already reached her home. As she struggled to get out, he said, "I'll pick you up at ten am sharp. You have to fit your gown and we'll have to do some food tasting."

"Okay, fine," she replied, opening the door.

"Before I forget," his voice stopped her. She turned back to face him and saw him fumble inside his breast pocket once again. When his hand reappeared, it held a small black box. He handed it to her. "It's the proposal ring from the ice cream. It's a good thing things happened so fast at dinner no one remembered to ask about it."

She took the box without opening it and climbed out of the car without a word. She started to walk up to her door and when she reached it, she heard his car rev down the street.

Opening her door, she sighed, not really sure how she should feel. In just one day, her life turned 180 degrees and she was trying her best to hang on. She closed the door behind her, leaned her back against it and looked down at the little black box in her hand. She opened it and there she saw the simple silver band with a round-cut diamond ring resting on top of it. The stone glittered despite the darkness of her living room. With her right hand, she took the ring from where it was safely snuggled and slid it down one slender finger. She held up her left hand in the darkness and gave a faint smile.

It was her second time to wear an engagement ring.

The constant blinking of red light for her answering machine finally brought her back to her senses. She switched on her lights and punched the button to listen to her messages. The first one was from her mother, asking her to call back as soon as possible. The second one though was from the least person she expected to call.

She froze in the act of admiring the diamond ring in her finger when she heard the familiar baritone voice that said, "Cass, it's me, Harrison. Uhh...it's been a long time, but...I need to talk to you."

At that very moment, Cassandra realized that today must be the most unfortunate and crazy one of her life.