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“No, you will not! You and Timothy naturally want to celebrate your engagement,” Cass teased with a knowing wink at Timothy.
“And we will. Just as soon as I’ve made sure you’re home safe and sound.”
“And who’ll do the same for you.” Cassandra argued.
“You know why I’m worried about you,” Cherie whispered. “Don’t make me out you.”
Cassandra blushed. “Cherie Horowitz, you play dirty.”
“You got that right.”
And so, Cherie and Cassandra caught a taxi back to Cassandra’s inner city hotel together. They didn’t speak. Cassandra was too stressed and Cherie seemed to understand her friend’s state of mind perfectly. “Come on, Lady Cass, let me help you in the door. This is a full service I offer, you know.” She commented drily, thinking how very knackered her beautiful friend looked.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the hotel lobby was still reasonably busy. The bar was packed with inner city types, and they’d spilled out into the foyer space in various states of drunken dishabille.
They weaved their way around them and rode to the eighth floor together, silence still in force.
The elevators pinged open. Cassandra’s hotel suite was down the corridor and around the corner. It was the best she’d been able to organise at late notice and this time of year. “Truly, Cherie, you don’t need to take me to my door. I feel terrible keeping you here.”
“Are you kidding? Timothy and Ryan will be drinking beer, shooting the breeze and high-fiving themselves for being generally awesome.” She commented drily. “I doubt either will notice my absence. Come on. I’ll get you inside with a cup of tea and then leave you to receive your call.”
Cassandra nodded tersely. “Thank you.” She whispered, suddenly feeling overcome by emotion. The coming conversation was going to be one of the most momentous she’d ever had. A funny wave of stress coursed through her, and then a pain in her lower back.
She frowned, linking her arm through Cherie’s as they walked down the carpeted hallway.
As they came around the corner, Cassandra felt another pain, and then she saw him. Benedict, leaning against the door, a bag at his feet, his ankles crossed nonchalantly and his iphone in hand.
Cherie instinctively pulled Cassandra closer.
“What are you doing here?” Cherie said, instantly on the attack. “I believe Cassandra said for you to call her.”
“With all due respect, Cherie...”
Cassandra didn’t hear how he finished that sentence, because she blacked out. The last thing she heard as she was falling to the floor, consciousness slipping away from her, was an oath from Benedict, as he ran towards her and caught her just before she hit the carpet.
* * *
“I’m not going anywhere until I know she is all right,” Cherie was saying, from somewhere vaguely in the distance. Cassandra opened her eyes and blinked. The room was dimly lit, and she could hear a kettle boiling from the small kitchen. She was in her hotel room. Benedict. She remembered now, that she’d seen him in the hallway and fainted. How melodramatic.
“Cherie,” she croaked, holding a hand out for her friend.
Cherie and Benedict stopped their hushed argument immediately and came across to the sofa where Cassandra was lying. Cherie’s face showed her concern, but Benedict’s was so much worse.
“Cass,” he knelt beside her, took her hand in his. She pulled it away sharply as though he had burned her. He turned his attention to Cassandra’s best friend. “Cherie, I will call you once the doctor has been. Please, leave us.”
For almost the first time in his life, Benedict was discovering some opposition to his wishes.
“I don’t like you and I don’t trust you.” Her eyes narrowed, and Cassandra could see her petite friend gearing up for an argument.
“I’m okay, Cherie. I’m fine. Benedict won’t be staying long.” Cass said croakily, her eyes raking over him coldly.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” And Cassandra knew Cherie was referring to her pregnancy. God, she hoped so, but she hid her own worries with a reassuring smile.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Thank you for everything.”
Benedict walked Cherie to the door, though he couldn’t have been more aware of her disapproval of him at that moment. He didn’t blame her one bit. He felt much the same towards himself.
When Benedict came back to her side, he seemed tentative. Uncertain. Wary, as was Cassandra.
