Page 45 of Legally Yours

I watch people pass me. Their expressions are focused, intent on their goals. My face is relaxed. I have no intent, no goals.

I find myself out front at the Anderson Agency building. I look down at my feet and mumble. “Oh, you two are hilarious. What? Did the window put you up to this prank?”

A town car pulls up. The back passenger door opens. It’s Eunice, of all people. I swallow hard and paste on a smile.

“Eunice, what a surprise bumping into you like this!” I say it like it’s a welcome surprise. Who’s kidding who?

“Hi, Cassandra.”

I can tell she’s looking at me funny, unsure of what to say next. I see a wicker picnic basket flung over her arm. My emotions deflate. I shouldn’t ask, but I do. I guess I’m attracted to self-harm.

“Who’s the picnic basket for?”

Eunice chuckles and unless it’s my imagination, I see her cheeks blush. “Oh, yes, well, I’m bringing lunch to Liam as he seems to not want to go to lunch. Even modeling agency moguls have to eat.”

I nod. I can’t speak. Of course, that’s the answer I knew she’d give. All along, I always knew Eunice wanted to have her Liam cake and eat it, too. The moment it’s known I’m out of the picture, she comes back in. It’s all I can do not to jump on her and beat her over the head with the basket.

I flash a luxurious smile instead. “Absolutely, Eunice. You go feed that mogul. Nice to see you again,” I lie.

“And you too, dear.” Eunice flashes a quick smile and dashes into the foyer, intact picnic basket and all.

Leslie’s windowpane doesn’t have to tell me Eunice lied.

I walk on. I order my body to act relaxed. I order my face to look happy. I tell my eyes to lazily look at my surroundings like I care. And then, I curse my feet for betraying me.

With every step forward, a mantra endlessly beats in my brain.

No way. Not Eunice. Not now.

37

CASSANDRA

Once I get back to Leslie’s place, I throw a tantrum.

I slam my purse down on the counter. “No way! I can’t take this anymore! The ink on our divorce papers isn’t dry yet, and Eunice is bringing him food!

I look at the windowpane, and I raise my head to the sky. “Okay, FDR, Mr. Windowpane, anybody who is out there. Listen and listen well. If this is the war you two want, I’ll fight. Maybe not how you both intended. But the fight is on.”

I get changed into my corporate look and head back to the agency for work. I wear a black Dior pantsuit with padded shoulders and black patent leather high heels. I slap on fire engine red lipstick and rouge. It’s my warpaint to go for the kill.

And I keep the look up, and I keep up the confident façade. On the outside, I’m chill. On the inside, every day Eunice drops by with another picnic basket in her hand, I melt a little.

On the fourth day of my return, it’s not merely Eunice and her basket which punches me in the gut. Liam’s mother exits the elevator, too. The women are arm in arm, smiling, laughing, chatting away, playing happy families.

Oh, God. I hope they’re playing.

The awful sight is all it takes. My mind doesn’t have to remind me twice. Eunice is the daughter-in-law Liam’s mother always wanted. A born and bred blue blood with the proverbial silver spoon in that big mouth of hers. Eunice comes with the credibility I never had.

As I see the two of them walk into Liam’s office, I swear to myself this eye bleeding vision will be the last one. I head straight to my office, hit my keyboard, and furiously type. Minutes later, my printer spits out the page. I stuff it into a business envelope and march to Liam’s office. I walk past his secretary.

“Oh, Cassandra, Liam is occupied at the moment. Shall I –”

“I know. Never mind.” I walk straight in.

Wild horses couldn’t drag me out of his office. Maybe I’ve lost many battles when it comes to Liam, but I’m ending the war now.

I open the door with such force it bangs against the wall. I see Liam look up. All three look startled by my presence.