Just then, the intercom
buzzed and his secretary, Dahlia’s voice sounded, “Excuse me sir, Miss Fox is
here to see you.”
“You can send her in right
now, Dahlia.”
A few moments later, a
young woman with shoulder-length auburn hair and icy-blue eyes entered the
room. Reclining slightly in his chair, Cruz let out a sigh of self-content,
“Did you hear? Adams finally saw reason and accepted the deal.”
The ghost of a smirk played
over her austere and calculating features, “It was really the only sound
decision left to him. His alternatives were unemployment and poverty, at least
this way the poor bastard and his brood won’t lose their home.”
“Could my cutthroat lieutenant
be growing a conscience right before my eyes?”
Her smirk progressed into a
maliciously toothy grin, “Hardly, his apparent lack of business acumen means
little to me, but who do you think they’d have blamed if you’d completely
destroyed the man? We don’t need to give the press another martyr.”
“The brain of an analytical
engine, combined with the killer instinct of a shark, all packaged in a blue
business suit and stilettos. One day, when only my name remains, you will
become a true titan.”
“That may be so,” Tara said
with a strangely feline smile, “but as for here and now, I think we deserve to
celebrate your success.”
“Ours.” He corrected her.
She rose from her seat, crossed to a cabinet and
removed two crystal glasses and a large bottle of amber liquid. Pouring the
brandy, she handed him one glass and took the other herself, “I prefer a
well-shaken martini with plenty of olives, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Gabriel stood and touched
his glass to hers in a toast, “My dear, in all the time I’ve known you, not
once have I thought of you as a beggar.”
“Well then Gabriel, we can
both bask in the glow of this victory.”
A bus, moving
through the city
he bus was nearing
Raphael’s stop now, and despite the stirrings of a cramp in his right knee, he was
pleased with how his day was going. He’d worked a decent shift at the docks,
had a good breakfast and spent some time with his mother. Soon, he’d be home,
where he could turn on the TV and fall right into his favourite chair. Of
course, he couldn’t just vegetate for the rest of the night because he owed
Rachel a nice dinner. Perhaps the best thing about this particular day was
sitting in the last seat on the left. She was looking out of the window, much
as Raff had done before she’d arrived. Except for the fact that she wasn’t at
all interested in the world outside the bus.
Right at this moment, she wondered about the guy in the faded black
jeans, boots and grey t-shirt. She had to admit that he looked really scruffy,
but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. In fact, the look seemed to suit him,
right down to the messy hair pulled back into a simple ponytail.
There was also the matter
of the seat, or more specifically, the fact that she was sitting. Most of the
guys she’d met in this city probably wouldn’t even think to give someone else
their seat on a crowded bus, but this one had basically begged her to take his.
Suddenly the bus came to a halt and she realised that he was getting off. She
jumped to her feet so quickly that she almost fell backwards, righted herself
and followed him off the bus and down onto the street. When he heard her
footsteps approaching, Raphael turned and looked at her quizzically. “Should I
be preparing to defend myself?”
The expression she gave him
in answer was caught somewhere between a smirk and frown. “You more or less
order me to take your seat, and then complain when I try to show my gratitude,
what’s your deal?”
Raff fell into step with
her, “If you want to thank me properly, tell me your name.”
“My name’s Cassandra Phoenix.”
“You’re named after two
characters right out of ancient mythology, a fortune-teller and a majestic
bird, how interesting.”
“Much obliged. What about
you?”
He stopped, took her hand
in his and shook it in a way that was both firm and gentle, “I’m Raphael Davis,
happy to meet you.”
“Likewise. So Raphael, how
does a guy who looks like he has absolutely no clue how to use a comb know
anything about mythology?”
“Well first off, I’ve never
had any complaints about my hair before, much less from a girl I just met on a
bus. Second, everybody calls me Raff. I only hear my full name when my mom’s
angry about something. As for the mythology, it made for great bedtime stories
when I was growing up.”
Cassandra thought this
over, “Funny, The Princess and the Pea always did it for me. Not a fan
of the normal fairytales?”
Raff smirked, “My mom’s all
about turning every situation into a learning experience.”
They walked along in each
other’s silent company for a while longer, each one wondering what kind of
impression they’d made upon the other. When Raff turned left and walked down
the slightly smaller and shabbier side street which led to the apartment,
Cassandra stopped following him, as he knew she eventually would. As far as he
could guess, she’d gotten off the bus either a little too early, or a little
late. This meant that she must like him, at least a little, which made him
smile inwardly. He turned to see her watching him. She had an awkward smile on
her face, as if she was unsure of how to say goodbye. I’ve found myself a
real gem here, Raff thought. He walked back to where she was standing.
“Damn, I thought that if I
kept quiet about it, you’d just follow me home.”
The awkwardness faded from
her face as she realised that he understood.
Her smile grew into a toothy
and somewhat mischievous grin. “No such luck, but seeing as you’ve proven to me
that chivalry isn’t quite dead yet, you do deserve a little something,” she
lifted herself a few inches higher on her toes and pressed her lips lightly to
his cheek. “Thanks for the seat, Raphael,”
Raff smiled and shook his
head, “If I get to see you again, we’re gonna work on that.”
“Well today was my first
day at a new job, so as long as you catch that bus, I’ll be there.”
“Well, I was about due for
a lucky day and I guess this is it.”
In the days that followed,
a relationship began to blossom between the two. Raff soon discovered that the
new job Cassandra had mentioned the day they met was the position of assistant
manager at a small clothing boutique in the city, called Clothes by Claudia.
He now understood why Cassandra (or Cassie, as she preferred to be called) had
an innate sense of style that made her sexy and yet still appropriately dressed
for the business environment.
About two weeks after their
first meeting, Cassandra felt safe enough with Raff to let him walk her home.
She’d learned that they had a lot in common. Raff lived with his mother, as she
did with her father, who’d been rendered incapable of working when he fell from
scaffolding on a construction site and severely injured his neck. While the
accident didn’t leave him paralysed, the doctor told him that he could risk no
further injuries. Peter Phoenix now worked as the unofficial handyman for the
apartment building in which he and Cassandra lived.
Perhaps the most important
common thread shared by the two young people was that both of them had lost
parents at a very young age. Cassie’s mother was taken from her and Peter by
Leukaemia two months before her sixth birthday. When she shared this with Raff,
she was horrified to learn that his father had died because of a senseless act
of brutality only a few months later. It was this fact above all, which made
Cassandra feel as though she shared a meaningful bond with Raphael.
On that day, Raphael was pleased
to notice that Cassie’s home lay just two streets away from his own. As they
walked from where they had exited the bus, Raff reached into the pocket of his
jeans and extracted a small rectangular object that glinted like silver when it
caught the afternoon sunlight. At first glance, Cassie thought it was a small
jewellery box. She panicked a little, not sure if she could accept such a gift
from him yet, then calmed as she realised that it was nothing of the sort. It
was in fact, a harmonica with elaborate geometric designs cut into its finely
polished surface.
“That’s a real beauty,” she
said, “How long did it take you to put away enough money to get it?”
Raff began to trace his
fingers over each of the patterns in an almost ritualistic manner. He smiled
sadly and said, “I didn’t buy it, it belonged to my dad. Other than photos,
it’s one of the only things we have left.”
Cassie closed the distance
between them, took Raff’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry he
was taken from your life like that.”
He gave her a quizzical
look, “Life can’t have been any easier for you, you lost your mother way too
early.”
She pondered this for a
moment, “That’s true, but she had cancer, over the years, I’ve come to terms
with that. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose someone the way you
and your mom did.”
Raphael wiped glistening
eyes with the back of his free hand and mimicked Cassandra’s gesture. “When it
comes down to it, life has to go on. I really don’t know what would’ve happened
to me if my mom hadn’t found the strength to raise me on her own. I’ve heard
terrible stories about this city’s foster-care system.”
Cassie smiled warmly and
said in a gentle, almost whispering tone, “She sounds amazing, I’d really love
to meet her.”
Raff smiled amusedly, “If
that’s what you want, you can come over for dinner some night, soon I hope.”
“Sure. As for the
harmonica, can you play it at all, or does it just live in your jeans?
Raff half scowled, half
grinned, “You think I carry this just ‘cause it looks good?”
They continued to wind their way casually
through the few remaining streets before Cassandra’s apartment building and
while they walked, they talked, made each other laugh and both enjoyed warmth
and ease of the early afternoon.
As he’d said he could, Raff
played his father’s harmonica, and played it well. He played Cassandra many
different tunes. Some were soulful, with the same tone as those of old Blues
songs. Most of them however, were up-tempo, with light and cheerful rhythms.
As he finished playing the
tenth tune, she said, “This is it, Swallow’s Lane. My building’s number 511,
one of the last ones on this street. “
“You know, it’s a pity that
the drivers on the city bus-line won’t take us down the side streets. I haven’t
seen any homes built along the main routes.”
Cassie rolled her eyes at
him, “Come on now Raff, is a little walk in the afternoon so terrible?”
Raff smiled
conspiratorially, “Not this one. I guess the company someone keeps really can
affect their mood.”
Giggling a little, she
curtsied and said, “Glad you see it that way.”
=====================================================
[Drop by next Wednesday for Part 3.]
