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“Hi, it’s me. I just wanted to tell you that I had to leave for a quick errand. I’ll be back in a few hours, ok? Don’t start with all the heavy lifting without me, understood?” Aisha demands with worry in her voice.
“All right, I have to run to the shopping center for few things anyway. Do you have a spare key?”
“Yep, I’ve got it. Bye!” She hangs up before I have a chance to respond to her overbearing demands thrown at me in a hurry.
I’m just going to have to get used to it, as both my overprotective sisters get in a mother bear mode. Those two brats are forgetting who is at the top of the chain of command.
Interrogator at Work
~Logan~
I’m not surprised to find her sister at the door. The hard expression on Aisha’s face tells me she has an ulterior motive. I analyze the girl standing in front of me. This one is not afraid to ask questions. This will be interesting.
“Good morning, I’m Logan Cade from last night, and you are Aisha, right?” I try to charm her, but she’s not impressed. Aisha crosses her arms over her chest in stubborn intimidation and refuses to shake my extended hand.
Cassandra was subjected to my arrogant character the first time we met, and she was compelled to kick my ass in a verbal fight. I still feel my smile break whenever I think of her attempt to tame my inappropriate behavior.
“I’m here to see if I could speak with Cassandra. We have a lot of things to talk about,” I try again. The blonde gives me a very thoughtful and intense appraisal, as if trying to see what to do next.
“All right, buddy, let’s go to talk somewhere
else before my sister comes out. We have lots of things to discuss before you get to bother her with your charming presence,” she tells me in a hurry. “Wait here, I need to get dressed. I’ll meet you at the entrance.”
She closes the door before I have a chance to say anything. Those girls have a severe case of bossy in their nature. Well, I’m very good at taking control of the situation and reversing tables. Maybe I’ll get some insight as to who she is and what kind of family will be surrounding my kids.
I remember Cassandra sick in the bathroom, sitting on the floor. Her tired body was curled in a protective ball, sleepily trying to wait out her sickness. She looked so vulnerable and sad. There is a lot to talk about, and for that, I need her to be in her best shape.
My family was ecstatic to hear I’d be giving them little heirs to spoil. I realize I acted out of anger and didn’t take well to the news she spewed out to me. She couldn’t possibly know the extent of the drama that had stormed my life for the past few months. Otherwise, she probably would have chosen a different route to break it.
I can’t afford to have my children’s mother hating my guts and trying to shut me out. I can’t become a father who abandoned them, and the thought of them living in poverty makes me go mad. Very independent and self-reliant, Cassandra seems to be one of those feminist women who thinks they can do it on their own. I respect her for her independent streak, but I plan to be involved.
To win the one's heart, you must get her sister on your side. In case she played me, I’m giving her no more than ten minutes. But soon, the doors open, revealing Aisha, a tall beauty, in jeans and a blue flowy blouse.
“Where do you want to go to talk?” I ask politely, trying to earn as many points I can.
“How about the pastry shop on the main road that serves amazing coffee? Usually, they’re not busy at this time, so we might still find empty tables.”
“All right, lead the way,” I say, as she takes out her phone to make a call.
She calls Cassandra and lies about where she’s at. So, that means she wants to see where I stand before deciding whether to let me close to her sister. Something makes me believe I will be not the one talking; she appears to have a rather strong need to unload.
Who do you think will be doing the heavy lifting? I silently curse myself. She is going to rip me a new one while blowing on her long polished nails.
Aisha has her vicious protective butt swaying with the intention to hurt me. Well, the kittens of this family are about to learn that I don’t have a problem getting them in line. But this social dance is part of the meeting, so I concede, letting her lead the way. Usually, I’m good at reading people and their intentions, and I have the feeling these sisters don’t play games.
“Let’s talk!” she demands with a determined expression as we find seats in the shop.
“What do you want to know?”
“What are your intentions? It seems to me that the man who traveled from America to England has some,” she quips with no small talk. I love people who don’t waste my time. We are going to get on well. I watch her as I smile at her no-bullshit attitude.
“I’m here for her and the babies. I made a mistake, reacting like a dick to the news. I mean to rectify the situation. In return, I want to support her and the babies, financially and emotionally.”
I have no intention of explaining why I talk with her sister in a demeaning way. Usually, I don’t have to answer to anyone.
“I don’t know what to make of you, you know? You say all the right things, but you still hide a lot. I don’t like that you might have the power to hurt her if allowed near. She went through a lot in her life, these babies are her gift. Don’t set yourself to take them away from her. Know we will be standing in your way with hammers and frying pans to fight you.” The fire in her eyes makes her fierce expression even more inclined.
For a moment, I’m taken aback by the emotion she shows on her face. The protectiveness I see there is too fierce and alarmed for my liking, and makes me wonder what kind of secrets she hides. How relevant is it to know what else is going on behind the scenes?
