The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(11)
The wealthy family I never knew; the wealthy family who left him a hefty trust when his grandparents passed when I was two.
My father spent twenty years living a lie to keep from sharing that money with his daughter and wife. He saw my mom as trash, someone who couldn’t offer him any of the exclusive life he believed he deserved once that trust was signed over to him. I’ll never live up to his standards, just like whichever wife du jour won’t someday.
I shake my head to break the thought, the memories from the cobwebs of my mind as I swipe through the tiny clothes rack in the corner of the office. Choosing a sleek black and white bodycon dress, I take it off the hanger and move towards the small bathroom to change.
“Hey, Cassandra?” Gabrielle calls from outside the bathroom.
“Cassie!” I correct her again. My mind is already in an unhappy place, so the formality rubs me wrong. It’s a trait I seem to have with others, to make them feel like they need to address me properly. Sometimes on lonely, rainy days in my apartment, when I’ve watched all of my saved Housewives episodes and have nothing else to scroll through, I wonder if it’s my own doing, if I’m my own worst enemy. If I’ve gone too far with my propriety and tailored etiquette, making myself seem cold and standoffish.
“Yes, sorry, Cassie.” She pauses there, not answering as I wiggle the tight dress up my hips, reminding me I need to order a salad tonight and reschedule those missed sessions with my trainer. Again. Preferably before the wedding next month, which will be filled with waifish, malnourished women who live to be eye candy for men with more money than taste, women who need to live to a standard or be shooed out for a thinner, younger version.
“What’s up?”
“Oh, yes. I’m going to head out, okay?” I check my watch and see it’s four. On Wednesdays, she leaves early to watch her sister’s kids.
“Of course, thanks, Gabrielle.”
“I sent your location to my phone, so I’ll be able to see if you made it okay. I also scheduled you for tomorrow at eleven to go to the garage and have your tire fixed.” Personal assistant isn’t technically in her description, but she does it well.
“You’re a blessing. Give your nephews my love!” The words come out before I think to hold them in, and they feel foreign. Not only have I never met these kids before, but we rarely talk about personal life. It’s like the mix of dwelling on my history and being stranded in the cold last night has me going through a midlife crisis and questioning everything.
Midlife crisis? I’m not even thirty. Quarter-life crisis? Will I live to be… one hundred and twenty?
If I do, I’ll probably do it alone, which sounds pretty damn miserable.
What is wrong with me today?
“Uh, sure, Cassie. See you tomorrow?” I sigh before nodding, then remember she can’t see through the bathroom door.
“Yes, see you then. Have a good night.” I’m too embarrassed at this point to walk out of the bathroom until I hear the front door click shut and the lock turn. It’s one of the few rules we have for the office: it’s always locked. Two women in an office in this city, though small and mostly safe, is asking for trouble. Opening the door to grab my shoes, I decide just to run a brush through my long hair and put an extra layer of gloss on before leaving for the restaurant five minutes downtown.
Another day, another date
Six
-Luke-
I cannot believe my sister talked me into this.
As I walk down the cold streets wearing the too fancy sweater, jacket, and pants my sisters bought me for the holidays, it's all I can think. But beneath that, I’m still wearing my leather work boots. Dress shoes are for men who want to impress, and that’s not me. If I don’t pass this matchmaking chick’s test being the way I am, I’m out. Why would I want to be matched up with someone based on some fictional version of myself? Quinn and Tara will understand that, at the very least.
I am blessed with a family who loves me for who I am, and I will never take that for granted. When my father, son to wealthy old-money parents, married his high school sweetheart, daughter to public school teachers, it could have gone wrong. It could have gotten ugly, with harsh words exchanged and feelings hurt. Instead, my grandmother on my father’s side, Meema, sat at my maternal grandmother Nanny’s side while she sewed my mother’s wedding dress by hand, teaching her to sew on the tiny pearls to the veil, the same veil both of my sisters wore as they too walked down the aisle. My nanny was too proud to admit they didn’t have the funds to pay for an extravagant wedding to accomplish the ‘bride’s family foots the bill’ tradition. So instead, my grandmothers worked together to make near everything themselves, ending in a handmade event still bragged about to this day.
When my oldest sister was born, she was showered in not just things but with love, and that love never ended. Now my entire family comes together for every event, celebrating holidays and birthdays and first teeth lost in a mix of love and food and shared memories. Everyone comes as they are, whether that’s wearing pearls or dirty work boots. While I come from money, while it was always the intention of my family for me, the only son, to take over the family’s finance business, no one batted an eye when I decided to work on cars, work for someone else, and earn a ‘normal’ paycheck. No one has ever made me feel anything but proud of my choices.