Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

t h i r t y – f i v e

"Okay," I say, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and walking into the living room. "Talk."

I would've had this conversation outside, but I'm not dressed appropriately enough to make a spectacle of myself.

Adrian perches on the edge of my couch, his gaze steady, unwavering as he stares at me, his head slightly nodding, his posture tense, nervous. As it should be. "Umm...I guess I'll start from the beginning."

"Sure, not that it matters," I mutter, taking a seat on the armchair. Five minutes. That's all. I don't owe him anything more.

"It matters, Cassie," Adrian says quietly, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing together. "It matters."

I sigh. "Just get on with it so I can leave. I have things to do."

"Right, sorry, okay..." Adrian caresses his chin, his eyes flickering around the room. "About three years ago, my father's company was struggling, we weren't meeting our forecasted targets, the new Board of Directors were losing hope... It was bad, Cassie. We were going bankrupt."

My eyebrows quirk up in interest. I don't remember ever reading about this on any blog site or magazine. "What does this have anything to do with the fact you're married?"

"It has everything to do with it," he says, closing his eyes. "When my grandfather passed away, my father took a rather laid-back approach to our corporate dealings. He wasn't as groomed in the fashion industry as my grandfather, he was destroying our reputation, our legacy. The President of the Board gave my father an ultimatum, either merge with another company or shut down operations."

"Okay...?" Even though I find the history of Cav Couture fascinating, I'm lost. "What's your point? That you merged with Il Ghiaccio? I know that. Everyone knows that." Everyone who follows the world of fashion.

"Yes." Adrian nods. "Il Ghiaccio was new, it was exciting, they were dominating the market, but they didn't have history, they didn't have culture, so my father reached out to Giovanni Gallo to talk about a merger. Giovanni was hesitant, he was worried we'd stage a coup at some point so he...he came up with a plan."

Oh no. I see where this is going now.

"An arranged marriage? Really? That was his brilliant idea? You're a corporate lawyer, couldn't you have just drawn up documents?"

"I can only practice law in the States, and Giovanni wouldn't budge." Adrian lets out a long, pained breath "He was adamant that the oldest Cavallero son would marry his only daughter, Mariela, that way, the two companies would always be linked, no one would have more power."

How European. Let's solve all our problems by forcing a marriage. Fucking aristocrats.

Wait... I frown. "I'm confused though. You're not the oldest son."

"Yes, I'm aware, Cassie." Adrian shakes his head, sighing. "My brother Gabriel was set to marry Mariela; they were engaged to be wed but then he went to fucking Portugal."

I lean in closer. "What happened in Portugal?" I ask in a whisper, invested in the story, almost forgetting that the man in front of me has caused me so much pain.

"He met Seraphina," Adrian, swallows. "They fell in love and—my brother couldn't do it. He refused to marry Mariela. So, I…I took his place."

My eyes widen. "What?" No... God.

Adrian stands up, his breathing rapid. "I didn't lie to you, Cassie. Everything I told you was the truth, well aside from the being married part." He looks down at me. "I've never had a girlfriend, I've never been in love, I just…I didn't care. So, what was the big deal, right? This was my family's legacy, a company my grandfather built from the ground up, and it was going to disappear—" Adrian snaps his fingers. "Like that."

I blink at him, trying to wrap my head around this whole mess. "So, you got married?"

"Yes, two years ago," he says taking a seat on the coffee table in front of me. "But there wasn't a wedding, there were no headlines, press, nothing. This was an internal business deal, not for publicity or marketing, it was done quietly." He lets out a low exasperated chuckle. "I only ever met the woman once before we signed the documents, and I've seen her maybe twice since then."

I let out a long exhale. Am I supposed to feel better? Less dirty? "Why didn't you just tell me all of this? You lied to me, Adrian. You... You lied."

Adrian puts his hand on my knee, squeezing it. I don't move it away. "When we first met, I didn't anticipate how much you'd mean to me, Cassie," he whispers. "It was nothing at first, harmless flirting, and then... it somehow became real. I started—" He sighs. "You filled my every thought. You were all I could think about—"

My heart clenches. "But you're married, Adrian. You're married. How does your wife feel about all of this? Doesn't she care?"

A deep sardonic laugh spills from his lips. "Mariela has a boyfriend, Cassie. They live together. For two years now. She doesn't care, she only ever calls me when she needs my signature on something. That was the 'emergency' call last night."

I don't know what to do with all of this information. A part of me understands the situation, regardless of how unorthodox it is, I get it. It's business. But at the same time—he's still legally unavailable. And he lied to me. Point blank.

"I asked you before, what changed your mind," I muse, thinking out loud. "Why you finally decided to make a commitment to me—was it because I said I never want to get married?"

"Yes." Adrian looks away from me, his face laced with regret and shame.

I tilt my head. "So, you weren't ever going to tell me? I was just going to be your mistress, forever?" My blood thrums. "You should have told me the truth when I asked you! I gave you the opportunity to explain yourself! But you lied! Why?"

"Cassie, you're making it seem like you're the other woman, you're not," he says, shaking his head, his eyes glossy. "You're not some secret, I wouldn't have hidden you."

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?" I ask sternly.

Adrian places his hand over his face. "Because I was scared," he admits. "I was afraid you'd run away. That you'd—"

"Get angry?" I ask, my voice rising. "No shit, Adrian. Months, you had months. We worked together every day! You had ample opportunity to pull me aside and be like 'hey, by the way, I'm in a fake marriage for business, but I'd like to date you'."

"And what would you have said?" Adrian asks, his voice low, vulnerable. "Would you have said yes? Would you have agreed?"

I flap my hands. "I don't know because you never gave me a chance to figure it out! You took that decision away from me and instead you lied, you broke my trust, Adrian. You let me believe that you care about me. That you—"

"I do care about you, Cassie!" Adrian cries, grabbing my hand. "More than I've cared about anyone, ever. That's why I didn't want to lose you. You're the first person that has ever made me feel...anything."

I snatch my hand away, my eyes welling up with tears. "That was a very selfish thing for you to do," I whisper, my heart seizing, hurt. "How am I supposed to trust you now?"

"I promise you, Cassie," he pleads, his tone breathy and turbulent. "I will never lie to you again. Ever, I promise."

"No," I whisper, sniffling, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "That's not good enough. That doesn't change the fact that you're still married."

"Why does it matter though? It's not real, Cassie! There's nothing romantic or even friendly between me and Mariela. You said you don't believe in marriage, you said it was antiquated. So why does it matter?"

I pause. Why does it matter? If it's just a business arrangement, why should I care? They're never together. She lives in Italy as far as I can tell. They're strangers. But it does matter, I just can't figure out why.

"Do you have to produce an heir?" I blurt out.

Adrian remains still. "No, we don't," he rasps.

My eyes harden, narrowing at him. There's doubt in his tone. "No? Never? Or not right now?"

"It hasn't been brought up yet," Adrian says matter-of-factly. "And it won't ever be if we're together."

"See? That's just—" I grunt, irritation spiking. "This isn't normal. This isn't a conversation we should be having, whether or not you'll need to knock up your wife at some point in the future." I shake my head feverishly. "I can't do this, Adrian, I can't. It's too weird. It's—I can't."

"Cassie, please," Adrian begs. "Can't you just look past this? I swear to you, on my papa's grave, I will never lie to you again. Ever. You have my word."

Despite everything that's happened I believe him. Maybe that's the problem with me. I'm too trusting. I'm naive. I want to see the good in him. I've seen it before. I fell for it before.

"I don't want to be your mistress," I state in a hushed tone, removing his hand off of mine and standing up. I won't fall for it again. "I think you should leave." The words leave my mouth so slowly, so agonizingly quiet, somber, serious.

Adrian's face tightens, his eyes hooded, sad. He knows. He knows this is it. He knows I've made up my mind and yet, he whispers, "You won't be my mistress, Cassie. You'll be happy." He stalks towards me in two purposeful steps, cupping my face in his hands, his desperate touch reverberating through my body. "We'll be happy."

I bite my lip. Don't cry. "We can't be happy Adrian, not when you're tethered to another person. It doesn't work. It doesn't feel right."

Adrian's thumb grazes my jaw, my lips, firm, full of longing. "We can make it work, Cariño," he breathes, resting his forehead against mine. His voice faltering. "I believe in us, Cassie. We can make it work. We can."

I place my trembling hands on Adrian's and slowly drag them down, our fingers locked. "No, Adrian, we can't." I graze my thumb along his palm, soaking in this moment. Our last moment. "You might believe in us, but…but my faith is shattered. I can't—" I pull away, taking a step back, my breath catching in the back of my throat. "I'm sorry."

Erratic silence swirls around us, an air of finality, of closure, of an end.

"Cassie..."

No.

"I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten," I whisper, our gaze colliding one last time. "And when I open them, I need you to be gone."

I can't watch him walk away. I won't. I hug myself as I begin to count. This is for the best. This makes sense. I'm doing the right thing. It would never work. It couldn't.

One.

Two.

Nothing. No movement. No sounds. Please leave. Please.

Four.

Footsteps, getting quieter and quieter.

Six.

My front door creaking open.

Eight.

And gently shutting.

Ten.

I stand in the middle of my living room, unable to move, my eyes closed, my heart beating heavily.

All the anger, frustration, and rage that's been festering inside of me the last day morphs into sorrow.

He fucked up. Adrian fucked up. But my heart hurts for him. For us. He's stuck. But it was his choice. He made that decision. He chose to help his brother, his family, their livelihood at the expense of his future. It's sad. But it's the reality.

Actions have consequences, no matter the intention.

And this is his.

Ours.

***

"Lucy, I'm back," I call out from the hallway, dropping the car keys on the console table.

I packed a small suitcase with me, a few items to tide me over until I move. I need to email our landlord and inform him that we're going to break our lease. Monique and I will split the cost, maybe a couple of grand but it's the only option, I can't afford that place by myself.

"Lucy?"

Where is she?

I make my way into the dining room and find my aunt slumped over, staring at a letter on the table, her expression unreadable.

"Luce, are you okay?" I ask, taking a seat next to her. "What's wrong?"

Lucy gives me a flat look before passing me the piece of paper. "She got in."

My eyebrows knit together as I scan the letter.

New Vision Medical Center....New York City.... Experimental TBI recovery program... Fifty patients... one-year program...

My eyes spring open with joy. "Oh my God! Lucy!" I exclaim. "This is incredible! This is—" I look over at my aunt who's teary-eyed, her bottom lip quivering. "Why...why are you crying? I don't understand..."

Lucy wipes a lone tear from under her eye. "My company won't let me transfer," she cries. "I talked to my manager and she said that there are no open positions in New York. I can't quit, Cassandra, I'll lose my pension."

"But you can afford the treatment?" I ask gently. "You mentioned before that it's kind of pricey."

Lucy takes a deep steadying breath. "Ness's doctor pulled some strings and they're offering us a partial bursary. I can afford it, barely, but I can."

I bite my lip, thinking.

New York. The land of opportunity. Fashion. Culture. A fresh start. Away from Adrian. Away from Blake. Away from this mess I created.

"I'll take her," I state, nodding my head. "I'll go to New York with Ness."

My aunt tilts her head. "Cassie, but your life is here. I can't ask you to—"

"What life?" I ask, almost chuckling. "I don't have a job. In two-weeks I won't have an apartment. Mom and dad are leaving in a few days. My best friend's getting married. I don't have a... I have no ties anymore, Luce. Just you and Ness." A sense of resolve courses through my body.

"I'll do it! God, this is actually perfect! I've always wanted to go to New York, you know that. I'll start applying for jobs right now. Hell, maybe I'll even take a course or two, beef up my resume."

This is exactly what I need. I can't stay in Seattle. Too many memories. Too many things have happened.

"Cassie... I don't know. New York is expensive. You'd have to rent out a place, pay for food, transportation..."

I shake my head, my eyes lighting up. "I have savings! For once in my life, I have savings. Let me do this for you, Lucy. Please. Let me do this. Let me help. Let me be part of the solution."

Lucy studies me intently. "I don't want you to do this just because you feel guilty about what happened. Because it was not your fault, Cassie. It wasn't. I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to—"

I grab my aunt's hand. "Lucy—" My eyes lock onto hers. "I'm not doing this out of guilt. I need this. I need to leave. If anything, I'm doing this for purely selfish reasons."

My auntie nods her head. "Promise? Because I don't want you to think—"

"Yes." I let out a light laugh. "I promise."

Lucy sucks in a sharp breath. "Okay, I guess it's time to tell Ness."

I smile warmly at my aunt. "When does the program start?"

"Two days after Monique's wedding," Lucy says, standing up. "Is that enough time for you to get everything sorted?"

"More than enough."