Chapter Three

Yes, I was really happy in London. Although I didn’t always understand their strange accent and some words, I felt pretty satisfied with the situation I had gotten myself into. I had new partners who bought some of my pictures, or put them up in a gallery, and I composed a lot.

Two weeks after I had moved in, I wrote an e-mail to Diane.

Dear Diana,

You probably don’t (want to) know that I exist, but yes, I’m your daughter, Cassandra Olivers. You had abandoned me and my dad, James Olivers, when I was born, remember?

I don’t want to make any wrong assumptions about you, so why wouldn’t we just meet somewhere, so we could talk and straighten things out a little. I would like to get to know you closer, maybe it would help me to cope with the ugly truth.

Let’s meet in Starbucks on Oxford Street, okay? Tomorrow, 11^th December at 13.00.

Write me back as soon as you can,

Best Regards

Cassandra Olivers

I couldn't but accuse her a few times in the short letter. Well, she answered me a few hours later. My heart accelerated and my palms turned damp as I started reading.

Dear Cassandra,

Thank you for your e-mail. No, I don’t want to meet you. Never.

Best Regards,

Diana Cross

I stared blankly at the screen. She was a coward. She didn't want to meet me, but I wanted to meet her. Shit, and I had hoped that we would get on easily. Alright, I thought angrily, let’s make it extreme.

The very next day I drove my new black Porsche to her house. It was an old house, but it looked like it had been renovated lately. The city district was rather poor and the neighbors looked at my car suspiciously. I took a look in the mirror, saw my bright blue eyes sparkling back, sighed and got out of the car.

It was pretty cold outside, but I was so excited that I didn’t feel the cool wind blowing against my cheeks.

I went through the frozen garden and knocked on the door. First, I thought that no one would open. But then the door opened and a handsome boy looked at me lazily and yawned.

-What do you want?-he blurted out in a deep voice, looking at me with no interest.

-Um, hi. I would like to see your mom, Diana. Is she at home?-

He looked a bit surprised.

-Yeah, she’s at home. Come in, I’ll tell her that you came. What’s your name?-

I struggled a few seconds. Should I tell him the truth? Maybe Diana would send me away if she knew that I came.

-Cassandra Olivers,-I said.

He led me into the foyer, which was full of winter boots, scarves, hats and other stuff.

-Okay, wait here.-he said an scuffed his feet on the worn red carpet.

It smelled of coffee and tobacco in this old house. I assumed that Henry was a smoker, because Diana, I had read the notes after all, was more or less allergic to nicotine.

Then Derek came back and looked absolutely confused.

-Err…she said she doesn’t want to see you.- he said, looking at me with a million questions in his eyes. His tiredness had vanished.

I had prepared myself for that one.

-Alright, thank you, anyway.-I said and went out of the door.

-Who are you?- he yelled as I was already on the street.

I looked at him and smiled.

-Your sister. Ask your mom someday about it. I bet she’ll tell you. You should know that your mother isn’t as perfect as she seems to be. Gotta go!-

As I pulled off, I saw Derek staring at me. Or maybe at my car. However, he looked impressed. The living room curtain moved a little bit. I smiled.

I was absolutely sure that Derek won’t leave his mother alone until he finds out the truth. I also left a business card on the table in the foyer. Now all I had to do was wait.

And not too long.

Already two days later, in the afternoon, when I was writing the lyrics to a new song, the doorbell rang.

I looked surprised at my watch and hurried to the door. It was half past nine in the evening.

I turned on the soft light and opened the heavy door.

It was Diana.

She looked calm, but I could see her anger under the smooth Poker Face.

We measured each other for a few moments.

-Here I am, Cassandra.- she said.

-Come in, Diana. Lets have a talk.-I said and let her in.

She didn’t look surprised that I knew who she was. Well, the external likeness was simply too obvious.

As I led her in, I saw her old gray Volvo outside.

Her eyes grew big, when she saw the furniture and the luxury of my new home.

After she had hung up her old coat, I led her into the living room.

By the sight of the huge LCD TV, she wrinkled her nose. She obviously didn’t like that I was rich.

I sat in the chair, she sat me across on the sofa.

We measured each other for a long moment. Then she sighed and said:

-You wanted to talk to me.-

-Yes.-

-About what?-

I suppressed an ogle. Wasn't my action obvious enough?!

-Why did you leave us?-I asked as friendly as I could.

-I was 21, I wanted to party, to have fun. Then I met James. His eyes had the same stunning blue shade as yours do. I fell in love with him. But when I got pregnant, I hated him, you and myself for being so reckless and stupid. I didn’t want to be a mom and I still don’t regret that I left you both. The next time I got pregnant, I was 28 and wanted to have a child. That’s all.- her tone was completely emotionless, as if she was talking about weather, not abandoning her newborn baby.

I looked at her in disgust.

-I was your very first child. I missed a mom. You simply...left me.- I whispered, angry tears welling up in my eyes.

She looked at me, her face unreadable. Then she shrugged.

-Is this all?- she asked, looking at her watch.

I gasped in exasperation. How cold can a person be, for God's sake?! I stared at her, trying hard to suppress my flaring temper.

-By the way, how’s James?- she asked, looking out of the window.

-As if you’d care. Go home. Leave my house. Now.- I whispered, standing up.

She shrugged, put on her coat and got out on the porch.

As she started to walk down the stairs, I said loudly:

-James Olivers died a month ago.-

She stopped in mid-step.

-Dead?- she asked, looking at me in surprise.

I grid my teeth together, threw a furious glance at her and closed the door.

I slid down the wall and cried. All the tears, the pain and the fury screamed to get out of me. I cried for a very long time. As I finally stopped sobbing, it was already night.

After the depthless sorrow and pain started to get muted, new feelings crushed on me.

Fury, anger, humiliation, need for revenge.

I sat there on the soft carpet in my foyer and a plan began to form itself in my head.

Obviously, she didn’t like that I was rich and successful. What if I would be famous as well? What if I would be in magazines and TV? Would she be able to handle it? Will it hurt that her own children aren’t that famous and loved?

An evil smile spread on my face. I already knew how to realize my plan.

* * *

-And now, greet our guest. She is only 23, but already famous in Europe, America, where she’s from, and of course in Great Britain! Her brand new song “As if you’d never been there” has been Nr.1 in almost all British, European and American radio stations for the last four weeks! Welcome, C-O alias Cassandra Olivers!-

An earsplitting applause and cheers crashed against my ears.

The flashlights blinded me.

I got slowly and elegantly on the stage, right in the middle of the flashlight and waved at the roaring public.

I shook the host's hand, his eyes glued to my cleavage. Typical men.

We sat into the cozy armchairs in the middle of the stage. The applause faded slowly.

I smoothed my emerald dress and looked at him expectantly.

-Well, how does it feel to be famous? - He asks, as the applause finally ceased.

-A pretty new feeling. But I can handle it. - I answered, smiling at him my most glorious smile.

He swallowed a bit nervously, but nobody but me noticed.

-That’s good, because most of the newcomers lose their mind after getting famous. I’m sure that everyone wants to know how you wrote the song. It has got a nice beat, but at the same time it’s so peaceful, almost sad. Who or what inspired you?-

I thought for a second. Then I looked straight in the camera.

-My father. He was an unusual, unique and a very inspiring man. The beat in my song – that was the rhythm of his life. Fast, happy. But underneath there was a sadness that no one could understand.-

-A lost love?-he asked smiling mischievously.

I shrugged.

-He never told me. Now and then this ancient sadness would float on the surface of his mind and I could sense it.-I said and smiled pleasantly.

Nobody but one noticed I was lying. One, who most probably was trying to forget my existence.

He nodded and checked the next question he had on his paper.

-Why did you decide to live in England? I mean, everyone says that the States are the place to find a bright future.-he asked and looked at me with his light green eyes.

-You know, I’m not sure. I guess that some part of me had always wanted to see the “Americas relative”-country. But also the obvious peace and control that this country has. For example, the paparazzi’s don’t chase me down the street as soon as they see me, like it was in NY when I was there two weeks ago.-

The public snickered. I didn’t mean that sentence to be funny, but I also smiled.

The host checked his next question.

An hour later I was sitting in my Porsche, driving home.

I was absolutely drained. It had been very difficult months.

After Diana visited me, I finished a new song. Well, I asked Jen to find me the best producer in England. Keath Jackson alias KJ called me two hours after my conversation with Jen back.

I was pretty surprised that KJ was so interested in me and my work and that he was ready to meet me the very next day. He was jubilant as he heard me singing the song. Two weeks later I sang it as a warm-up for a very famous band. KJ assured me that the applause for me had been much louder than for the band itself.

I wrote my debut album with 9 songs on it three weeks after I had my first debut concert. My bright blue eyes became my label. Even the cover of the CD were my eyes.

The success was tremendous.

Two weeks later my album was the in the top 10 of the month. Then it was the first in the top 10 of the month. My songs were played everywhere-in the TV during some commercials, in the radio, in the supermarkets, absolutely everywhere.

So Diana had to listen to them willingly or unwillingly.

I was absolutely sure that she hated me more than ever. But now she suffered, too.

I yawned and smiled, satisfied, parked next to my house and got out in the warm afternoon air.

As I closed the driver door, I saw a red bike leaning against my fence. I ignored it and got into my garden.

Then I saw Derek, who sat on the steps.

-Hey Derek!- I said, surprised.

-Hey Cassandra.-he said and stood up.

I closed the gate and got to him.

-How are you?-I asked, honestly worried.

He looked awful. He had dark shadows under his eyes and his face and posture screamed “Drained!” at me.

-Fine, thanks.-he muttered and stood up as if to leave.

-So what brings you here?- I asked before he could decide to go.

He looked at me suspiciously. Then he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

-I…I wanted to talk to you.-he said, unsure and opened his eyes slowly.

-Alright, let’s go into the house. Although it’s already May, it’s still pretty cold here, isn’t it?-

-Yeah, not like America, huh?-he asked, smirking weakly.

I looked at him with a pleased smile and nodded, opening the door. At least I was able to cheer him up.

He looked at everything with huge eyes. I took off the high heels and the dress got automatically too long.

We got into the kitchen. He was really impressed by the house, I could see it.

-Would you like some tea?- I asked.

-Sure.-he said and sat down behind the breakfast table.

A few minutes later I sat next to him and reached him his cup. We drank our tea in silence for a while.

-I’m sorry to interrupt your businesses like this.-he finally said.

-No problem, I have nothing special to do today.- I assured him, although I wasn’t sure if you could call an interview and a photo session with the Vogue in the evening a “nothing special”.

-I wanted to talk about my mom.-he said, looking at me attentively.

I stiffened and cleared my throat.

-I’m not sure that I can tell you a lot about her. I don’t really know her, after all.-I said quietly.

-I know. Just, I wanted to ask: are you really my sister?-he asked quietly, as if the low volume of his voice would ease the word's meaning.

I looked in his amazingly rich green eyes and nodded.

He sighed.

-Is that bad?- I asked.

-Oh no, no, of course not. Just my mom wouldn’t talk to me about you. In the last few months, since you came here, she was acting really weird. Every time she hears you singing, she turns off the TV or the radio. She has ripped out and thrown away the articles in the magazines about you. She doesn’t get out of the house anymore, except for work. She’s absentminded all the time.- he said, looking in his cup.

I was about to laugh out loud triumphantly. But Derek was really worried. That calmed me down and made me more serious than I wanted.

-I've got the feeling she's planning something. Something big.-he whispered in his cup. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. He looked at me, a bit terrified, as if he had said way too much.

-Doesn't matter. So what's the story with you and Mom?-he asked.

I put my hand on his and looked deep in his eyes, trying to foresee his reaction.

-Listen, Derek. After she’d given birth to me, she abandoned me and my dad. The worst part is that she doesn’t regret it at all.-

-How do you know?-he mumbled, slightly shocked.

-She was here a few days after I had visited her at home. She told me how it all began. She wanted to party and to have fun and not sit at home with the crying baby. She hated me for ruining her life. So she left us. Tried to forget us. And then, 23 years later, her own daughter visits her at home. The awful memory she had always repressed turning into reality. Her daughter is famous, lives a luxurious life and she lives in a tiny house and drives an old Volvo. I think that then, for a second, she regretted that she had left my dad. He had a very good job and she probably imagined what would her life had been like if she had stayed with him forever. Luxurious life, nice cars, cool dresses, famous friends. Haven’t you ever noticed how she looks at rich people? Like she’d have a grudge against them, right?-I guessed.

Derek nodded. Bingo.

-You’re right. She really misses a luxurious life. But dad is...was a cab driver and she is a teacher. You don’t get much money on those jobs.- he said.

I nodded and drank a bit of my soon-cold tea.

-I'm sorry for your loss. I...I researched a bit about you.-he said and blushed, squeezing my hand gently.

I smiled gratefully and stood up to take out some of the cookies Hannah had made me lately.

-How’s school?- I asked.

He shrugged.

-Nothing special. I’m a good student, you know, but…-

He trailed off and looked at me in embarrassment.

-You’re not popular?-I guessed.

His knuckles went white as he squeezed his cup and looked at the delicious cookies as if they were a state's enemy.

I waited for him to say something. But he didn’t look like he would talk to me about it.

-Don’t worry.- I said, smiling at him upon my cup.

I had a plan.

I was sure that Diana would hate me for doing it, but I had to save Derek’s school memories.

Next day, in the morning, I drove to his school. I was just in time – the lunch break had just begun.

I noticed him almost immediately. The picture I saw made me almost jump out of my car.

Derek laid on his face in the grass and some huge boys were standing next to him.

Oh crap.

I went through the gate and then a blond girl yelled:

-Look! It’s C-O !!!-

Right, my pseudonym.

I was surrounded by a crowd immediately.

Ah, the fame, I thought sourly.

I gave autographs to everyone who wanted. Then I saw Derek standing ten feet away from me. He looked surprised. His lip was bleeding a bit, but he obviously didn’t care.

I took off my sunglasses and looked at him. Thank God I’m a good actress.

-Derek! There you are!-I yelled and pushed myself through the crowd. Then I shortly hugged him and smiled a gleaming smile at him.

-Hey, Cassy- he said, smiling, too.

-Here, I brought you the iPhone you forgot yesterday.- I said, giving the brand new phone to him.

Thank God he was a good actor, too.

-Oh yeah, sorry. I thought I’d lost it. How are ya?- he asked, taking the phone with a smug smile.

-Fine, but now I have to run, the Vogue is waiting for the photo shoot.-Well, it didn't matter the shoot was already yesterday.

The same blond girl who recognized me, asked in a totally shocked tone:

-You know Derek-the-nerd?-

I looked at the girl in disgust.

-Derek-the-nerd? At least I’m not surprised. You don’t seem smart enough to think out a proper name. He is my brother, Blondy.- I said, looking at her with a killing glare.

The girl winced and blushed.

-Bye, Derek, see ya on Saturday-I said.

-Bye Cassy. Thanks again.- he said and winked at me.

I got into my car and as I pulled away, I saw that the crowd was surrounding Derek.

Mission completed.

On Saturday there was a Red-carpet-event. I decided to take Derek with me. After all, he was totally handsome, needed some fame and, of course, was charming and elegant.

The event was in the evening, so in the afternoon we met and started immediately with our shopping tour. I bought us some new outfits. Well, Derek was in the start absolutely against it, but when I told him to shut up, he did, but mumbled something like “waste of money” and “Mom will kill me”.

I bought myself a dress that was bright yellow and reached down to my ankles. I told the shop assistant to clothe Derek properly, so that we would match, and give me a clue about the accessories I should wear.

We looked stunning.

The next few weeks changed Derek’s life. The people recognized him on the streets, all the women who met him, tried to flirt with him. He was famous and beloved.

Then I pulled back for a while, wrote a couple of songs and sold some paintings.

Only one thing bothered me. Why hadn’t I still seen Jasmine?

I asked Derek about her. He said that Mom is furious that he gets on with me and that she keeps Jasmine away from him and, of course, me.

I was shocked. I wasn’t contaminative, for Gods sake!

I was only…famous.

Chapter Two

We both held our promises.

I was totally surprised of myself for not fainting or screaming in horror when I got the phone call from hospital in the middle of the night, almost two weeks later after the conversation – my dad had died just a few minutes ago.

I just shrugged my tiredness off and rode to the hospital to give him a last kiss.

Watching his pale, gently smiling face I remembered how he had snuggled me into his arms after I had gotten hurt somewhere, how he used to make his little victory-dance when I got an A, how he used to bake a huge pile of chocolate-chip-cookies every Sunday, how proud he'd been when I graduated from the Art University of Minnesota and how he had clapped his hands when I drove the first time in the car alone.

Only at these memories two or three tears escaped down my cheeks.

But I have to admit, James Olivers' funeral was fun.

As he had asked me and his closest friends, we all wore happy colours and almost no one cried.

I wore a bright green dress that reached to my knees, his best friend Charlie had put on red-dotted trousers and a bright yellow jacket and our neighbour Elise, who had taught me the piano essentials, wore a pink skirt to her ankles and a blue fluffy top. All the 56 guests looked totally ridiculous and out of place in the huge graveyard. Champagne poured like rain and some air balloons exploded. A family, who was mourning nearby was watching us as if we were completely out of our minds. The pastor, one of James' friends, was also laughing and chuckling between the lines, for obviously no one could stay serious for any length of time. Probably it was the champagne that made the poor pastor scream “Amen!” in the end and pull into a roar of laughter with the others around.

* * *

A few weeks later I was sitting in my office.

Jen knocked solemnly on the door and let herself in.

-Yes?-I asked, looking up from the sheet of paper I was reading.

Jen's cheeks were glowing, a very good sign, I noticed with satisfaction.

-You asked me to check on that woman, Diana Cross. So I did do some spy work, even broke into some programs.-she literally glowed of pride.

Nerves flared in me. She had found my mother! Of my God!

-Wonderful, Jen!-I smiled and stood up, forcing my hands to stop trembling.

-She lives in London, she is 45 years old and is married to Henry Cross. They have two children : Jasmine, she's 18, and Derek, he's 17. Err... the address is here and all the pictures and preferences as well. She works as an art teacher in a school. Her husband is retired since last year.-she said and gave me thick pile of papers.

I smiled a wide smile, trying not to make it look victorious.

-Jen, you are wonderful. Now take your notebook. Ready?

First, you have a vacation for the next....seven moths I guess. At least. Go somewhere south, so it would be warm there. Remember what the doctor told you? You need dry heat. I'll pay you forward with a bonus, of course.

Second, I need you to rent a house apart from the noisy centre of London, you know what I like. Money is not a problem anymore.

Buy me a ticket for Friday. I will have two days to pack. Then I want you to sell the my and my Dad's houses. Don't spare anything, only my piano and some things I leave here in this office. The best price, of course.

Find some galleries in London who would be probably interested in my paintings.

Hire a car and a maid. A big car, okay?

And the most important thing – be available all the time, I may need your help over there. Thank you!-I finished, took my coat and hurried to my car past shocked Jen.

The two days flew in a blur. Sorting out the things I wanted to have, I spared some memories from dad's house. I had a real issue with selling his house, but I knew he would have done it the same way.

Chuck was staying with Jen, so that wasn't a problem. That poor kitty had bitten me in the nose as he understood that I was leaving him.

I was sitting on the plane to London Gatwick in the business class, sipping on a tea and reading the notes. Now and then my eyes flickered to the picture.

I hated myself and her for being so alike.

She had glossy brown hair that reached to her shoulders, and she had no gray in it. She had the same, heart-shaped face, but her eyes were rich brown, with long lashes. Diana Cross was also much more corpulent, but it did not make her ugly. My first thought of her expression was ‘confident’. But then I noticed that she looked very motherly. Her eyes had tiny crow’s feet and her upper lip was a little shorter than it maybe should, so it seemed that she was smiling. Against my will, I liked her from the first moment I saw her face. The whole anger and bitterness vanished from my heart for a few seconds. That made me unbelievably angry.

I turned the page and read about Jasmine. That girl had won some school awards for wonderful singing and acting. A gifted girl.

Her brother in comparison, had excellent grades and had won some maths contests.

How different siblings.

I closed the notes I already knew by heart and looked out of the window. It was pitch-dark outside. That calmed me down a little. I closed my eyes and started to think.

Why was I flying to London right now? I wanted to see the woman who abandoned me, thank whom my father had to raise me alone and...and avenge her for leaving me and Dad. But as I recalled her face into memory, I couldn’t help myself, but feel sympathy toward her.

- Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen, here speaks captain Harrow. We will land in approximately 15 minutes. In London it is -3 degrees Celsius, it’s snowing and it’s 5 o’clock in the morning local time. Me and my crew thank you for flying with us. Have a nice day.-

I opened my eyes and looked in front of me. I’d fallen asleep, eventually. I stretched and put my seat belt on.

The baggage queue was immense. Though my luggage was one of the first ones to show up, I was one of the last ones to leave the luggage gain. I walked out of the airport and breathed in the cold air. Then I smiled confidently and fetched a cab.

-Good morning, lady. Where is it you want me to take you?- the driver smiled his almost toothless smile. I smiled mildly back at him and gave him the address.

His eyes widened as he heard it, but he didn’t say anything.

Oh God, what kind of apartment or house did Jen buy? I thought in panic.

But as we arrived 20 minutes later all my fear vanished. It was a small, beautiful house with a elegant big garden. It was old, but renovated. The porch lights winked at me homey.

As I got out of the cab, I could see now why the driver’s eyes had widened. It was a glorious city district. All the houses were elegant, noble and old.

I liked my new home at a glance.

-Welcome home.- the driver said, taking my suitcase to the gate.

I smiled at him widely and really felt like home.

-Thank you.- I murmured and gave him the money.

The driver took the tip and walked back to the cab.

I opened the gate, put my suitcase on the porch and rang the bell.

An old lady opened the door almost immediately.

-Hello, Mrs. Everelt, I’m Cassandra Olivers.- I said, smiling at her politely.

-Oh yes, yes, yes. Come in, dear, you must be cold! The weather is terrible, don’t you think? How was your flight Ms. Olivers?- Mrs. Everelt bubbled friendly.

I smiled, because I liked her immediately. Mrs. Everelt was fubsy and had short grey and curly hair. She wore an old rose dress and smelled of roses. She was that kind of old woman, who was candid and loving and spoiled her grandchildren with cakes and cookies.

-Thank you, Ms. Everelt, the flight was alright.-

- Call me Hannah, please.- She said as I walked in.

The house was a dream. The hall had a light soft carpet and dark-brown walls. As soon as I came inside, I knew that I had been right about the cake-and-cookies-part. The smell was simply mouth-watering.

-Now, let me show you your house. May I call you Cassandra?- Hannah asked, smiling at me warmly.

-Cassy, please. Cassandra is too formal.-I said as I took off my boots.

Hannah snickered and took my suitcase.

-No, no, let me take it!- I said, trying to stop her.

She looked at me mischievously and smiled.

-Dear, I may look old, but I am as strong as a bull.- she snickered again.

She put my suitcase on the stairs and took my hand.

- Now, here is the living room.- she said, as she pulled the first door left open.

I gasped - it was so beautiful and homey.

The walls were darker shade of cream, the floor tiles were mahogany and the fluffy beige carpet lay next to a dark brown sofa, which was covered with many cream-colored pillows of different sizes. In the right corner of the room was an archway that led to an other room.

I absolutely adored the cream-on-coffee colors. There was a niche, also covered with chocolate-colored pillows and a huge TV on the opposite wall of the sofa and a stereo system and a DVD-player below it. There were a few plants in this room and it all smelled like cookies. And yes, there were cookies on the low table next to the sofa.

Hannah got worried because of my long silence.

-Do you like it?-she asked, worrying.

-I absolutely adore it! This is exactly how I’d imagined it! - I whispered, unable to find my voice.

Hannah’s face lit up in satisfaction.

- Now, that’s great. I made you some cookies. - She added, taking the huge plate with a mountain of cookies and offered me some.

- Aww, you shouldn’t have. But thank you.-I said as I took one.

Hannah looked at me expectantly as I took a bite. Good Lord, the cookie was absolutely perfect. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the full, creamy taste of the cookie.

-It’s absolutely scrumptious!- I said as I finished the cookie off.

Hannah smiled at me and patted my arm.

-Yes, yes, yes, my grandchildren are very fond of them, too.- she bubbled, placing the plate back on the coffee table.

-I can absolutely recall their fondness.-I mumbled, finishing off the wonderful creation.

Before we went out of the room, I took another cookie with me.

-Now, here’s the dining room.- she said as we went through the archway.

The wallpapers of this room were beige and had thin yellow stripes on it. The light-brown table and the six chairs around it were made out of the same wood. The cushions on the chairs had blue, yellow and beige circles, and so did the tablecloth. There was a white lily and some fruits in the middle of the table. There were beautiful pictures on the wall. One showed a summer beach, the other one a palm tree and a surfboard.

-Wow, that’s nice.- I said, looking at the pictures.

-Your assistant said that you liked art so I bought them yesterday for you.- Hannah said, brushing the tablecloth.

-Thank you.- I said and brushed the Surfboard painting. It was painted with oil.

There was a gliding door, made out of matt glass on the right side of the back wall.

-I assume that this is the kitchen?- I said, gliding the door open.

The main colours in the kitchen were red, brown, black, bronze and a little of beige.

The kitchen was an almost round room and had dark beige walls. The counters next to the south wall were matched the shape of the wall and their doors were red. The cooking surface was made out of black wood and the hooks for the cooking instruments were bronze, just like the gas stove. A huge black refrigerator with bronze doorknobs was standing on the left side of the counters. The island in the middle of the room was also black wood with red doors and drawers and it had a hole on the left side, where you could push the food rests in. In the right corner was a small breakfast table for two. There was one window in this room - next to the breakfast table and a door on the left, which led in the garden. I could see some small lamps glooming outside in the snow.

-Lovely.- I whispered. I loved cooking and I could cook very well. I slid my hand over the cooking surface and shuddered slightly. Kitchen had always been my favourite room. Hannah nodded without a word and led me to the door I hadn’t noticed.

It was my atelier. It had bright green walls, one of my favourite colours, and had a tall ceiling with some round windows. There were dark brown crossbars up high. The left was made out of glass and faced the garden. There was oil- and acryl paint and many brushes of different shapes and sizes everywhere. A few different-sized easels were standing in the corner. There was my favourite old painting chair, whose leather was cracked and worn (I wonder how Jen had gotten it there). There was also a white grand piano and a shelf with hundreds of notes in it.

-Good Lord.- I sighed and brushed my hair out of my eyes.

-Do you paint well, dear?- Hannah asked, curious.

-Yes, I actually do.- I said, smiling, and discovered the music centre with my favourite CD’s nearby.

Hannah nodded once more and led me back into the foyer, where she opened a dark door on the right side.

It was a huge black-walled bathroom with a big golden jacuzzi in the left corner and golden hooks for housecoats. There were some marble sculptures of Greek goddesses as well and a small fountain stood in the right corner, smelling like roses. I sniffed at the scent and smiled, satisfied.

Hannah let me enjoy the moment and didn’t say anything. Then she took my hand and led me to the staircase. I took my suitcase, before Hannah could do it, and followed her upstairs. There was only one door just in front of me. Hannah opened it and I found myself in my bedroom. The walls were coloured like sunset. It was dark red, almost purple at the same-coloured panel strip and got golden at the ceiling. It was simply gorgeous. There was a king-sized bed in the middle of the room with dark red bedclothes and golden pillows. I could see the huge wardrobe on my right and another door further left, which unleashed itself as a bathroom with a shower, bidet and other needy furniture. The room was bright-yellow and smelled of daffodils. I found the idea of making every bathroom smell like flowers pretty...inspiring.

- I absolutely adore the house, Hannah. You renovated it brilliantly! I owe you a lot, because it is the house of my dreams… Thank you.- I said and hugged her lightly. Hannah squeezed me.

-You owe me nothing, dear. But I’m sure you’re tired , so I better start moving, shall I?- she said and winked.

I only now felt that the flight had drained me. I yawned and nodded.

After Hannah left, I showered, brushed my teeth and went to bed as fast as I could.

And spent one of the best nights in my life. I felt home.

Chapter One

I opened my eyes in the dark and yawned.

While stretching I watched my clock with a bit sleepy eyes. Exactly half past seven.

I frowned and damned my inner alarm clock to the darkest pits of hell.

I sat up too fast so the walls around me seemed to turn like a carousel.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself I noticed Chuck was sleeping on his special pillow next to me. His reddish fur was standing out in every possible direction. I caressed his soft back. He purred and stretched.

-Wake up, sleepyhead.-I murmured and smiled as he opened his green eyes sleepily. He stretched and yawned hugely. His movements reminded me so much of myself that I had to chuckle.

He licked my fingers and jumped from the bed. His tail was moving gracefully as he entered the kitchen with me. Chuck pressed himself against my naked legs and purred.

-Hungry, huh? Me, too. But we both have to wait, Chuck.-I said as I poured water into the boiler and went to the bathroom. As if to disagree with my intention he meowed and sat on the red bathroom carpet, watching me with his bright green eyes.

I brushed my teeth and looked then finally in the mirror.

-Oops.- I laughed quietly. A sleepy monster gazed back.

I forgot to take off the mascara last night so I looked like a panda bear who had smoked weed.

-A shower won't harm.-I muttered and stepped into the shower tub.

For unfathomable reasons, Chuck loved the moist vapour, so he meowed displeased as I nudged him gently to the side.

-Hey, none of the grouchy in the morning.-I warned him as I went back to the kitchen, drying my damp hair with the towel.

After our breakfast which consisted of cereal for me and herring for Chuck, I went back to the bathroom to apply some make up.

I was never good at it so I simply brushed some of mascara on my eyelashes and dabbed the powder on my nose and cheeks. My dark blue eyes sparkled with energy as I watched myself making some of the extremely awful grimaces while trying not to sneeze. With a huge effort, I managed to suppress it.

I combed my waist-long hair until it fell in soft waves and threw it back.

-Now there's a human being.-I smiled to myself as I finally approved of my appearance.

Then I made the mistake of checking the time and almost ran into my wardrobe.

I didn't quite look what I put on. Just that the colours would match. Indigo, camel brown and cream.

Then I tossed all the important things into my bag and hurried into the foyer. After flinging on my beige coat and dark brown high-heeled boots I caressed Chuck and left, putting in my earrings and throwing a scarf around my neck. My still-damp mahogany hair was stuck twice in the zipper.

-I have to do something about it.-I grumbled as I finally zipped the warm coat, without necessarily making myself bald.

Then I jumped outside.

And was completely mesmerized.

It was absolutely beautiful.

The snow was covering every inch of the ground, including the trees and cars.

The February cold made my nose go red almost immediately and my hair cover with tiny ice crystals.

I took a deep breath as I watched the sun rise. Pale orange and lavender beams fought through the clouds and made the world around me look magical. The snow sparkled and a weak snow tornado whirred up the tiny ice and snow crystals.

The muse in form of the cold wind kissed me and I decided immediately I would paint a picture.

Then I felt the cold and shuddered.

The car roared to life, scaring me awake. I turned up the heat and put on my gloves.

As I pulled off, I turned on the radio.

...Ain't no sunshine when she's gone...It's not warm when she's away...Ain't no sunshine when she's gone...and she's always gone too long...

-..Any time she goes away.-I sang along.

Half an hour later, after struggling through the morning traffic and crawling behind the very frequent police cruisers, I arrived at my office.

Stumbling out of my car I noticed Jenny's tiny electro car and suppressed a chuckle. Well, I liked big cars. This kind of...babies...were nothing for me.

I walked into the very warm office. It's walls made mostly of glass so you could see the snowy outdoors.

-Good morning Ms Olivers. How are you today?- Jenny asked, sitting already behind the desk, digging in some papers.

-Hi, Jen. I'm fine, thank you. Any news?-I asked as I walked into my office. It had dark blue furniture and sandy yellow walls and a yellow carpet. I loved this combination, though I knew many disliked this kind of style. I hung up my coat and sat into my dark blue leather chair, waiting Jen to share the information she had for me today.

-Yes, a lot of. Mr Fanderheldt called. He wants to buy the “Landelia” and he's offering quite a sum.-

-The guy from Netherlands?-I asked, watching the picture I had painted three months ago. Landelia was one of my personal favourites.

-Err...how much is he offering?-I asked dubiously.

She showed me the price on the paper.

-That little? I want twice or even thrice. Take it or leave it.-I said, satisfied with my decision. Of course Fanderheldt would buy it anyway. But this way it would take him longer and “Landelia” wouldn't leave me any sooner than in three weeks.

Jen scribbled in her notebook.

-Okay. Then we have the Georgiana McHalley who simply won't leave me alone..-

-...That awful person? Oh, she won't get my precious “Johnny” so easily. Make her offer the highest price and the tell her the twice big sum. She's greedy as hell, but she loves this picture and she'll buy it.-I said, remembering the awful woman with the high-pitched voice and a tiny chihuahua in her arms.

-Alright. Mr Jeavons called to affirm that “The Spring” is hanging in the New York Art Gallery of Montrery. The offers are very nice, but he knows his job and will tell us as soon as a high price enough is going to come up. Then there is Mr Cell who wants to buy the “Rose Rose”. I could push the maximum out of him..-

-..No, give him the standard price. He is a new client and he should remember us by the significance of the painting and not because of the enorm price.-I said, remembering the tiny man with bright grey eyes and a high voice. I liked him and thought he should get the picture cheap.

-And the last thing is that your father called fifteen minutes ago, just before you came in and asked you to call him back as soon as you can.- Jen said, her voice muffled by the pile of papers she was holding.

-Really? In such a hurry?-I wondered. Dad was a hippie. Take it cool, calm down, don't give yourself a headache.

-Yes and he sounded kind of...anxious.-Jen said, looking at me with her greyish eyes.

-Okay, I'll call him.-I said. She understood and left.

I dialled his phone number and wondered what was happening.

-Olivers?-a low bass voice asked.

-Hi, Dad, it's me. Jen said you'd called me.-I said.

-Oh, Cassy, it's you! I would really like you to come over here as soon as you can. I have something important to tell you, love.-he said, his voice hoarse.

-Dad, are you okay?-I asked, already standing up and taking my coat. His voice sounded unusually weak.

-I'm good. When are you coming?-he asked, changing the topic flawlessly.

-Err...I'll be there in twenty minutes or so.-I said and listened to him hanging up the phone.

-Leaving, Ms Olivers?-Jen asked as I hurried to the exit.

-Yeah, something weird is gong on at his place.-I said and ran to my car.

I drove as fast as I could with the slick ice on the road.

I was really anxious to get to him. What was going on?

As I stopped in front of the small house, nothing unusual seemed to happen.

I hurried on the porch and opened the door with my key.

-Dad?-I asked anxiously as I entered the kitchen.

-Cassy? Over here!- he called from the living room.

I walked there and saw him sitting peacefully in his armchair, smiling at me with his usual kind smile and holding an old book.

-Are you okay?-I asked, surprised by his healthy appearance. I was expecting something far more...dramatical.

-Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to you. Really important. Sit down, love.-he said and his blue eyes, which I had obviously inherited from him, sparkled at me.

I took off my coat and sat down next to him.

-What's up?-I asked, searching his face for some sign of danger or fear.

-Don't look at me like I'm going to fall dead over.-he smiled and caressed my cheek.

I closed my eyes and sighed, relieved – Dad was okay, at least at that moment.

-You scared me.-I said as I hugged him tightly.

He sighed with a strange edge to this sound.

-I have bad news for you.-he warned.

I froze and searched his face with my eyes, then I nodded, encouraging him to talk.

His eyes searched my face with an expression I guessed I'd had a moment ago myself.

-I've got cancer. Fourth stadium.-he said and held his breath.

It slowly sunk in.

-Oh no.-I mouthed as I took his hand.

He watched me warily.

-No, don't worry, I'm not going to freak out. So there is no cure, is there?-I asked after a short pause.

-No. But there are some good news, too.-he said and smiled widely.

I smiled back weakly. I was going to lose him too soon.

-You inherit from me three million dollars, baby, and this house and the house in south of France. Altogether it should be about ten million dollars or so.-he said, grinning.

-Aww, dad. How can you talk about money?-I asked, tears spilling over.

He kissed my temple and held me tight, not answering.

-Cassy, there is more.-he whispered.

By his grave tone I understood that something really bad was coming up now.

He sighed and closed his eyes, as if the memory was painful.

-Your mother is not dead. She abandoned us when you were only four days old. She...she didn't want to have a child. From me at least.-he said and swallowed.

I watched him, my body completely numb. My head felt like it had been disconnected from my body. Thousands of thoughts were rushing through my mind. I wished I'd feel like it is shown in the movies: no thoughts, no feelings, only numbness.

But this was reality and nothing like that happened. The thoughts that came up into my mind were disturbing and made me furious. Memories: my dad trying hard to bring up his daughter. All the parties he went to with me, all the things he had learned to make it easier for me.

Slowly, some kind of an unfamiliar feeling spread through my whole body. First, I didn't recognize it.

And then it hit me.

It was an immense feeling of need for revenge. It was so strong my hands trembled.

-Cassy?- a voice asked warily.

This brought me back into reality. I opened my eyes, surprised I had closed them.

-Yes?-I asked, fury making my voice sound hoarse.

-Are you alright?-he asked and watched my hands. I also looked at them and unclenched them with effort.

-No. How could she?!?!-I yelled suddenly, jumping up and pacing back and forth.

-All these years, she didn't give a damn about me! I....how is this even possible?! She is a mother, for God's sake!! Ans why did you even take me and became a lonely dad?!-I asked him, not quite able to hide my earnest surprise. All that I had seen and learned about men shifted. There were actually some loving men in this world, who would sacrifice their lives and open doors, to take care of their child.

He looked at me with huge eyes.

-What?-I asked, understanding that my fury was not the cause of his shock.

-Why aren't you angry at me?-he asked quietly, sitting up straight.

I ogled at him. It was my turn to be surprised now.

-Err...should I?-I whispered, unable to find my voice.

-Well, usually kids freak out because of this kind of news. And attack the nearest one. But you reacted...differently..-he murmured.

I sat down beside him and smiled a tiny smile.

-Do you want me to freak out on you?-I asked, taking his hand.

He chuckled and the tension eased.

-No, of course not, love.-he smiled and kissed my cheek.

-Tell me more, please. But first, whose grave did we visit, then? Who was Rosalie?-I asked, searching his eyes.

-Rosalie Elliot was my first wife. She was my first love and we had married young, both eighteen, and she had just gotten pregnant. Then she was run over by a truck. They both died. Two years later I met your mother, still mourning. Her name is Diana. She seemed to bring some new life into me. I could finally see the world around me without relating everything to Rosalie. A year later she got pregnant as well. She wanted to make an abortion. But I stopped her. She was only a year younger than me and I told her to leave the child. I was ready to take the responsibility. After long discussions, she agreed to do it. But as we came back from hospital, she said she hated us both and advised me to put you into a orphan house and go on with my life as nothing had happened. But I...I couldn't do it. I was bewitched from the very first moment I'd seen you. Your blue eyes and the tiny, dimpled hands made me keep and take care of you. It was very difficult at the beginning. But your aunt Susan helped a lot and I am very grateful of my sister's help. I was so afraid to hurt you that I didn't tell you the truth. So instead I lied and said Rosalie was your mother. That is why we brought her only huge flowers and covered the grave almost to the top with them, so that you wouldn't notice that your birth date and her death date weren't matching.-he said and sighed.

I listened to his breathing, trying to calm down at least a little.

I finally opened my eyes and smiled at him.

-It's okay, I'll be fine with it.-I assured him.

Suddenly his face crumpled and he frowned, gasping.

-Dad?!-I panicked.

He took a deep breath and froze in a few seconds he breathed out and smiled weakly

-It's just the pain. The bones are being eaten by the cancer.-he whispered as the convulsion ebbed.

-How much longer?-I asked as I came back with a glass of water.

-The doctor said approximately two weeks.-he said quietly, watching me.

I nodded very calmly.

-Cassy, please.-he said a bit louder as I began to cry.

I put my head into his lap and cried, as I had done many times before after falling down, being dumped by a boy or having trouble with maths.

He caressed my cheek and sighed now and then.

-Baby?-he whispered as I stopped sobbing.

-Yeah?-I croaked, my voice thick with tears.

-Let's make it the last time you cry because of me, okay? At my funeral, no one is aloud to wear black clothes and cry their eyes out. Smile and laugh, because I will go to Heaven.-he smiled.

I nodded, because I knew him and wasn't surprised. He loved colours and parties and believed honestly in God.

We sat and enjoyed the silence. My head was resting on his shoulder and he was holding my waist. His long black glossy hair with grey stripes in it was pulled into a ponytail.

I looked now and then at his face.

He was still so young!

How was it possible for him to die? He was only 46 years old...

-Cassy? What are you going to do with the money you inherit?-he asked finally, a smile in his voice.

I thought about it for a moment.

-I think I'd travel a lot and gather inspiration for my paintings. I'm not sure, actually. Why?-I shrugged.

-Just making sure you are going to enjoy your life. I don't have anything against charities, but sometimes I think it is better to be rich than good.-he chuckled.

-Dad!-

-Okay, okay. Just saying.-he laughed.

-How did you earn that much money anyway?-I asked, honestly astonished.

-As you know, I work as a chief cook.-he said.

-Yeah, but ten million dollars...?-I pronounced the words in shock.

-Well, a bit of luck in lotteries and clever investments...- he shrugged.

-A lottery? Hey I remember that one! All the kids in my school said a James Olivers had won five millions but he had been from Texas. So I didn't think much of it. No picture of you was shown so..- I looked at him, slightly accusing.

-Yeah, I forgot to tell you that my parents were from Texas.-he said with a strong Texas' accent.

I gazed at him, surprised once again. I didn't know so many things about him and had so little time to find out.

A tear rolled down my cheek again. I sniffed.

-Remember, none of these on my funeral! I will die with a smile on lips, so don't be a buzzkiller.-he chuckled and wiped the tear away.