Complicated Love Pt. 01

Cassie sighed and stretched her legs under the table, feeling her muscles protest as she arched her feet to stretch them out. Stifling a yawn, she looked at her watch. It was 9 p.m., definitely time to go home. She began saving all her designs and unfinished work, putting her files away and clearing the clutter on her desk. Once she was done, she picked up her handbag and made her way onto the street to begin her short walk home.

It had been a tiring day, in more ways than one. First, she had had a new project dumped on her; to add to it, she had covered for a colleague of hers who was away on vacation.

Then, when the work began thinning a little, she had been called to the CEO, Chris Quentin's, office, she where she was told in no uncertain terms that her work quality was slipping. It appeared that she was not putting in appropriate effort on the current project. "Well, if you had more of an interest in what your other employees were doing, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she had remembered thinking, aching to tell him that the only reason her quality of work was 'slipping' was because she was over-worked and doing an amount of work that usually required two, or more, people. Despite her desires to speak her mind, she held her tongue. She knew if she didn't it would have cost her the job.

Inwardly, she was seething that a man whose only claim to the CEO's seat so far was that he was incredibly lucky with some deals and that he was the President's son had the gall to tell her what she ought to do. Especially when he spent most of the time with the many beautiful models that seemed perpetually in his pocket, than he spent with his staff.

After this conversation with Chris, she felt she had no choice but to stay late and finish her work. Now she was tired, sore and had a splitting head-ache. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep. Reaching her apartment, she let herself in, only to find her best friend, Gavin, wrapped around her roommate, Melissa. They jumped apart when she entered, a guilty look on both their faces.

"Go on," she told them wearily. "Pretend like I'm not wasn't even here. I am not glaring at either of you disapprovingly. So what if you're only out of your old relationships for about a week?"

"C'mon Cass," Gavin said, unable to hide his grin at her words. "Lissy and I don't want to start a relationship. This is a nice, friendly ... liaison ... if you will. We just need something to cheer us up."

"Yeah," Melissa affirmed. "I promise we won't come running to you for tissues and a shoulder because of each other. Besides, you know we get together often. Don't be so uptight."

"Whatever," Cassie said tiredly. "Just don't do it here. I've had a hard day and I need my rest. What I don't need is two hormonal 20-somethings making out in my living room."

"It's mine too..." Melissa started to say, but stopped at Cassie's expression. "Aw honey, are you sure you're okay? Do you want us to stay home and curse who ever pissed you off today with big tubs of Chocolate Mocha ice-cream and beer instead?"

"No," Cassie said, smiling for the first time since she had come in. "You guys go enjoy yourselves. I just need some sleep, and then I'll be fine."

Melissa just nodded and she and Gavin began to leave the apartment.

"Hey guys," Cassie said just as they stepped out. Both of them turned to look at her. "I'm just being uptight because you guys are my most favourite people in the world. I don't want to see either of you guys hurt."

Gavin's eyes softened as he read the concern and sincerity in Cassie's eyes.

"Lissy and I are too alike to ever get together Cass," he said gently. "So we can't ever hurt each other. Or you. Now you go to sleep before we decide to tuck you in."

"Don't you dare," Cassie said, looking at Gavin with amusement and a little bit or trepidation. "I still haven't forgotten what happened the last time you tried to do that."

"'Bye!" Melissa and Gavin chorused before shutting the door gently behind them and heading to whichever club they had picked to visit tonight.

Cassie sighed and rubbed her temples. What a perfect end to her day. Watching the man she had loved for more than a year walk away with her best friend.

She walked to her bedroom and fell fully clothed onto the bed silent tears wetting the pillow.

Fuckin' perfect.

---

Gavin danced drunkenly, pressing himself against Melissa, who was gyrating against him. He knew that Melissa was equally drunk and that they would wake up with hangovers tomorrow, but he was feeling so good right now that he didn't really care.

This was a balm, a salve, to soothe the hurt he felt. He had just left a pretty serious relationship, and was feeling awful. He wasn't a mushy guy, but he missed all the little things that came with a relationship. Waking up together, making each other food, making time for each other every day, having wild, passionate sex.

After a week of depression, he had decided that he needed to get laid. And that's when Melissa called him, telling him that she needed him too and that they should get together, as friends, and help each other out. She too had broken up with her boyfriend of two years, and he knew she was hurt.

So here they were, drowning their sorrows in drink, and later, in sex. He leant down to Melissa and whispered in her ear, "Let's move."

Melissa nodded her assent, and whispered back. "But your place this time. Cassie'd be pissed if we went there."

Gavin nodded and led her out of the noisy club. Once in his car, they could hardly keep their hands of each other. It was a miracle that Gavin managed to get them to his apartment unscathed.

In the elevator, Gavin pushed Melissa up against a corner and began kissing her passionately, tasting her. She responded with equal passion, her hands running through his hair as she pulled his face closer.

When the elevator reached his floor, they practically ran to his apartment, fumbled for a moment before opening the lock and slammed the door behind them.

They made their way to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind them. Melissa got onto the bed and lay down, beckoning to him. Gavin wasted no time in joining her. He quickly slipped on a condom and positioned himself on top of her before sinking into her body. She was so wet that he slid in easily, his entire length coming to rest inside her.

Melissa wrapped her legs around his waist and began moving her hips; impatient for the pleasure that she knew would come. Gavin responded by thrusting into her, slowly at first, but faster and harder as she writhed beneath him.

His rocked in her, drawing moans of pleasure from her lips. Melissa's hands were busy with her breasts, stroking and pulling gently at her nipples to increase her pleasure. Gavin saw her, and hunched over her so he could take one delicious nipple into his mouth while he stroked in and out of her.

Melissa let out a soft scream when his hot mouth engulfed first one of her nipples and then the next, blazing a path of fire between them. Suddenly, Gavin froze above her, and his member swelled within her. She knew he was there, and this knowledge brought her to completion too.

When Gavin was spent, he rolled off her and lay down beside her, breathing heavily.

"I needed that." Melissa said, trailing her finger along his chest.

"Me too." Gavin said, turning on his side so he could hug her to him.

"Do we really seem like a couple?" he asked, his voice muffled in Melissa's hair.

"Maybe. But both of us know otherwise. We're just great friends and nothing else." Melissa replied.

"Cassie's my friend too, and I haven't slept with her." Gavin pointed out.

"Cassie hasn't slept with anyone," she snorted, "and I sincerely doubt she would want to sleep with you. She's still waiting for that special someone. Gavin, you and I both know that a relationship between us couldn't work. We're just too alike."

"I know." Gavin sighed, closing his eyes. "But I wish we could be together, just to prevent all the heartbreak."

"Me too," Melissa said, tilting her head up to look at him. "We'd only hurt each other though if we tried to make this more than it is. Do you want that?"

"No." Gavin admitted, opening his eyes to look down into hers. What he saw there confirmed what she said. He only saw lust and friendship, not affection or love.

"Oh, let's not discuss this. I'm supposed to be getting over a relationship here, and what better way to do it than to go to bed with a sexy guy?" Melissa said with a little smile. "I'm up for another round."

"You know, I just may be able to help you out there," Gavin said as he felt himself swell. He pulled her on top of him now, and the rest of the night was filled with their pleasure filled moans as they each tried to forget, and grieved for something they both know could never be.

Unbeknownst to them, Cassie was curled in a foetal position on her bed, coves in disarray around her as she sobbed for the love she would never get, and they love that she wrongly felt was growing between her two friends.

---

Chapter Two

Chris sighed in pleasure as his blonde secretary knelt before him and skilfully sucked him off. He had his hands buried in her abundant hair and was slowly moving his hips to her rhythm.

With a loud groan, he came, emptying himself inside her. The blonde stood up and smiled at him, letting a drop of cum dribble out of her mouth. He watched in fascination as she licked it, her eyes on him.

"Thank you Frieda," he said to her, "I needed that."

"You poor baby," said Frieda, placing her hand against his cheek. "You're under too much of stress. Why don't you come over to my place tonight and unwind a little?"

Chris smiled, and gently refused her offer. He knew where this would lead to. It would lead to a nagging wife, lots of shopping and a steady depletion of his bank account. He was going to stay clear of that.

He walked out of his bathroom and into his office, leaving a very disgruntled Frieda clean up after herself. When she came out a few minutes later, not a hair out of place, he was immersed in his computer, going over a new deal.

She just shook her head and went to do her work. She had tried her best. She sighed and continued doing her work. She knew that no matter what, Chris would always come to her when he needed someone. That was cold comfort.

When he was sure she had gone, Chris looked up from his laptop and sighed. He was tired. So very, very tired of doing this. But one bad relationship had been enough. Never again was he going to put himself through that torture. He had to learn to content himself with these meaningless flings, though he was angry with himself for getting together with his secretary. If he wanted to avoid complications, this was not the way to do it.

His phone rang then, pulling him out of his reverie.

"Chris Quentin here," he said into the receiver and smiled when he heard Dr. Morley's grizzled voice on the other end.

"How are you?" Chris asked.

Before the doctor answered that question, he said something that wiped the smile from Chris's face. "It's your father, Chris. I need you to come right now."

Chris murmured a hasty affirmative and rushed out of his office, not bothering to inform his secretary where he was going.

After a thirty-minute drive to his father's house, Chris found himself standing in front of Dr. Morley, listening to his prognosis of his father's illness.

"He's dying Chris, and there's nothing we can do about it. The leukaemia is well advanced, and further therapy will just weaken him. Now it's just a matter of counting the days."

Chris just stood there, impassive; the only sign of emotion was a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Does Dad know?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Yes, but he's refusing to believe it. He wants to talk to you though; you should go in and see him."

Chris nodded and went into his father's bedroom. The man lying on the bed was barely recognizable as Chris' father. Chris always remembered his father as being larger than life, with his tall frame and booming voice. Even during the months of chemotherapy that had followed his diagnosis, his father's personality had managed to dominate the room, even if his body was confined to a bed. But now, with that sparkle in his eyes dimmed, the frail man lying on the bed now was nothing like him.

"Come here Chris," his father called, his voice laced with pain. Chris made his way to his father's bedside and knelt down, taking his father's hand in his.

"I'm dying," his father said, "No way to hide it. It's the truth and I'll have to accept it. I just wish I could live until I see you happy..."

He trailed off, and closed his eyes. It was a great effort to talk.

"I am happy dad." Chris said gently, stroking his father's hand.

"No you're not," his father retorted, "and don't you deny it. You haven't been happy since Rosie left you. I just wish I could see you with someone else before I go, so I know there will always be someone to watch over you..."

Again, he trailed off, his voice raspy.

"Oh dad," Chris said, swallowing convulsively, trying to keep the tears from flowing down his cheeks.

He waited till his father drifted off to sleep and then quietly made his way out of the room. He found Dr. Morley waiting outside for him.

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked, meeting Chris gaze.

Chris looked right back at him and said, "I'm going to get married."

---

Chris went straight home after his visit with his father. It left him emotionally drained. He could still picture a rugged, healthy man who had loved nothing better than to go fishing or camping with his son.

Now, all that was left of that man was a frail body, one that was not strong enough to hold on to life anymore. His father could die anytime and Chris wanted him to die happy. It was the least he could do. That night, he sat down with a bottle of whisky at his balcony, drowning his sorrows and bringing memories back. There were so many good memories.

He thought of his first day at kindergarten, when he'd refused to go unless his father dropped him and picked him up. His father had done that without complaining for nearly half a year, until Chris was comfortable enough to go on his own.

He then thought of graduation, his father's proud smile as he watched his son graduate with honours from Harvard. He had said that it was the proudest moment of his life, watching his son graduate from one of the best universities in the world.

His father had been there with him throughout, from university to his first job, and finally, as an executive in the company, where he had worked his way up, with no help, although people thought otherwise.

He poured himself glass after glass as all the memories engulfed him. His father meant everything to him, and knowing that he was dying was difficult and painful. That is why he wanted to get married. A platonic marriage, a marriage of pretence.

He wondered who would agree to such a marriage. It would have to be a friend, or maybe even an acquaintance, but the fact that the marriage was temporary and not real must be made very clear.

By the time he went to bed that night, he had already called all his friends, and almost all of them told him that he was out of his mind. His closest friend, Georgia, would have been willing but he didn't want to ask her as he knew for a fact that she was a week away from getting proposed to by someone else.

With a troubled heart, he went to sleep. When he woke up the next morning, he looked like hell warmed over. He felt awful too. The whiskey had left a bad taste in his mouth, which he couldn't get rid of, his eyes had dark shadows under them and he had sore muscles from twisting and turning too much through the night.

When he walked into work the next morning, the last thing he wanted to see was Cassandra Stevens sitting in his office with what looked like a truck-load of design specs. For a moment, he wondered why she was here. She was a good designer and did not need to get his approval; but then he remembered what he had said to her yesterday and blasted himself. He had just been letting off steam then, but now he could see that he had injured her pride.

He didn't know much about her, except the fact that his father had hired her part-time in her third year of college, before graduation, in order to hold on to her after she had graduated. It was a good decision, Chris knew. She was one of the best. However, that also meant she had pride, and Chris had made a mistake the day before by pricking it.

"Well, that'll teach you to not take your anger out on the employees." He told himself grimly as he walked into his office with a smile, more a grimace, on his face.

"Good morning Ms. Stevens." Chris said as he seated himself behind his desk.

"Good morning sir," Cassie said, barely able to hide her shock at Chris' appearance. Usually, he was very well groomed, not a hair out of place. Standing before her now, he looked like he had not slept for days.

"Here are the design specs you asked for," Cassandra said, pushing a few rolls across the table. "I haven't made the fair ones yet. As soon as you approve these, I'll get the others done, too."

Chris opened a spec half-heartedly and looked at it. After about a minute of pointless staring, he put the spec down and laid his head on the desk. Cassie stared at him, shocked and slightly worried. He may not be the best boss, but he also never showed any emotion, or shared his personal life, with his employees. This sign of vulnerability only meant that something was very, very wrong with his world.

"Are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

"No, I'm bloody well not," Chris replied, his voice muffled against the hard surface of the desk.

Cassie stared at him. He looked worn out, tired. She felt empathy well up in her.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, surprised that she had dared to ask him such a question. She didn't really want to know, but she was a nurturer, and nurturers did things like that. Helped people. She sighed inwardly. One of these days, that was going to land her in a big pot of trouble.

"My father's dying and I need to get married within the next week," Chris replied, his voice still muffled.

For a moment, Cassie thought she had misheard.

"Your father is dying and...what?"

"My father is dying and his last wish is to see me settled with a woman. So I need to get married soon so that he can die happy."

Cassie listened to all this with shock. Was the man mad?

"Listen, Mr. Quentin, I'm sorry about your father. Really, I am. But isn't getting married taking things a bit too far? I mean, it is not a business contract with terms and conditions. It's a relationship two people have to make work," Cassie said, still reeling from shock. The man was crazy. The last thing the his father needed was to see his son embroiled in a false relationship. She didn't know Chris's father very well, but the man who had convinced her to work for this firm would have been hurt by what Chris proposed to do, not happy.

While Cassie pondered the stupidity of this scheme, Chris's mind was going off on another tangent. As Chris listened to Cassie, an idea began to form in his head. A business contract. A business marriage. It was perfect. He had considered a platonic marriage, but this would be even better. This meant that whomever he decided to marry, on a temporary basis, would have to adhere to specified rules and regulations.

Also, if he provided an ample allowance, then he knew that any woman would be willing to pretend as though she and Chris shared the greatest relationship in the world. It was worth a try.

He wondered who would actually agree to this. Suddenly, something struck him. He pushed his head of the table and leaned back in his chair to study the woman sitting before him. She was attractive, he decided. Bright, laughing green eyes, a chubby face, small nose and a generous mouth. She was a trifle overweight, but it suited her. However, what appealed to him most was the sincerity in those eyes. He made his decision.