Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  After Granger had found out about that, he had fired Alex Caldwell on the spot, and had then informed the man's partners at his firm about his unethical behavior. The partners subsequently had suggested that he retire quietly, reasoning that if other clients found out about the incident, they would lose confidence in the firm. Good riddance, the useless fool. At least I won't have to screw the disgusting sweat-hog anymore, and pretend I like it. And the toad actually came crying to me afterwards, he thought I actually cared about him.... she thought sourly as she stalked into Granger's large office.

  Seating herself behind his desk, she wracked her brain, trying to think of a way to regain the control she had once exercised over her son. She sensed a storm coming from him, and had been avoiding all his calls lately, and she knew he was quickly losing his patience with her. Idly picking up a large, framed photograph from the desk, she glared at it. It was a picture of him and Cassandra. Her! SHE'S the reason my son changed! I was happy before he met her. What am I going to do? Everything I've done is bad enough, but if he even has a faint suspicion I had anything to do with Cassandra's attack, I'll lose everything! How can I convince him I had nothing to do with it? I just sent Martina over to the cabin that day to torment her, to flaunt the lie of her having a tryst with Granger in her face, trying to drive her further over the edge! Surely Martina couldn't have...I mean, she was the one who phoned ME, gibbering in fear, after she had discovered Cassandra's nearly lifeless body. If I DID know who attacked her, I would tell him! NOTHING, or NO ONE is worth me losing everything I have here! I should have admitted my part THEN, and took my chances! But noooo, I just HAD to fly off the handle, didn't I? Panicking like a common schoolgirl, fearing Granger would somehow blame ME! Her mind gibbered fearfully.

  “Mother Grace?” a cheerful voice cried out.

  Nerves already on edge, she jumped and nearly screamed, then looked up to see Martina sauntering in the office, closing the door behind her. As usual, the woman was decked out like a runway model, and she reflected for perhaps the hundredth time that she was the perfect image of the kind of woman her son should be with. Relaxing somewhat, she smiled, not at all angry that the woman had come in unannounced. After all, she had treated the young woman like family for years. In truth, she had hoped she would have been family by now. Even the guard at the gate knew to let her in without question. The fact that Martina had been granted permission, by her, to come and go as she pleased, had been the source of many strained arguments between Granger and Cassandra in the distant pass. She wasn't so certain that would fly these days though, but at least Granger was out of town at the moment.

  Standing, she walked around the desk and accepted a hug and a kiss on the cheek from the younger woman. Taking her hand, she said, “Come, sit. I'll have refreshments brought to us.” Leading her to the leather couch by the large fireplace, she asked in a contemptuous voice, “So tell me, have you seen her?” (meaning Cassandra) “Did Granger seem like he wanted to work things out? I haven't talked to him much lately, so I haven't a clue what's going on.”

  Hoping to enlist the older woman's help and support, Martina put on her best distressed act. “Oh, Mother Grace! That woman will never release my Granger from her evil clutches.” she pouted as she concentrated on making her lips tremble, a talent she had perfected over the years in order to get whatever she wanted from her beloved cousin, Brett. “Can you believe it? He stood by and allowed her to insult me, IN PUBLIC, without uttering one word to stop her. If I didn't know any better, I would swear she has him under some sort of voodoo spell. You know, their kind always uses tricks to get our men. It's horrible to see such a strong, forceful man crumbling at her feet, like some weak-kneed nobody! I can't understand what he sees in her!” Then, for added effect, she concentrated on turning on the water-works.

  “There there now, dear.” Grace cooed, patting her hand.

  “Pleaassssseeee, Mother Grace!” she wailed in desperation. “You simply MUST demand Granger return to the estate immediately! Tell him...tell him...you're ill or something. If you can just get him here, and away from HER, I promise you, I can make him see I'm the only one for him.” she finished as she sniffled, then pulled a tissue out of her purse and began dabbing at her eyes daintily.

  Pulling her hand away, Grace looked at the wild-eyed young woman, and instantly sensed she should distance herself, and in a hurry. She knew from experience that desperate people were almost always dangerous, and they almost always made stupid mistakes. My survival comes first! I can't allow her to drag me down with her. If Granger catches her here, or even finds out about this little visit and conversation, my goose is cooked.... she thought, then shook her head sadly. “Martina, dear, as much as it pains me to say it, I'm afraid Granger is, and has always been, in love with that woman. And now that he knows she never left of her own free, he'll be there to protect her, with his very life. My dear, it's time to accept it, and move on.” she said slowly.

  As quickly as the crocodile tears had started, they stopped, and was replaced by a maniacal gleam in the younger woman's eyes. Standing to her feet so quickly that Grace actually flinched, she pointed an accusing finger at her and screeched, “NO NO NO! I will not accept that!!!! GOD I wish I would have finished the job when I bashed that bitch's skull in! Why didn't she just DIE?”

  Completely thunderstruck, Grace numbly realized she had been an unwitting party to attempted murder, no matter how minor her role had been. Completely panicked, her survival instincts kicked in. Standing to her feet, she raised her voice, for the benefit of any staff members who may have been eavesdropping, which she knew for a fact they did on a regular basis. “My God, Martina, how could you do such a thing? YOU were the one who beat her? Almost killed her?” she demanded in a self-righteous voice.

  Eyes narrowing, Martina stalked towards her slowly, until they stood nearly face to face. “Why, Mother Grace, whatever are you talking about? Why are you feigning ignorance and shock? Of course you knew, you knew it all along.” she mocked in a sweet voice, but with an evil gleam in her eyes. “My goodness, dear, why haven't you told me you're coming down with Alzheimer's? Not to worry, I'll refresh your memory for you! You were the one who told me where the slut was going the day she left, remember? To that shack Granger had built for her, in those God-forsaken mountains?”

  “You know perfectly well that I never suspected you were actually going to try to kill...” Grace croaked, but was interrupted as Martina leaned closer, making her flinch again.

  “Don't you dare cross me, Gracie-baby!” she hissed in her ear. “I'll tell God and the whole world that it was you who begged me to get rid of her, and they'll believe it, too. Everyone knows you never liked her to begin with. Then I'll tell them how you bribed the bank president to conceal that money you had transferred to my offshore account, when I asked you for a loan? The one you didn't want Granger to find out about? Oh, by the way, that money funded the flight that was chartered to spirit Cassandra away to Mexico. You think the authorities will find that interesting?” she mocked as she affected a look of puzzlement.

  Grace now knew what a trapped animal felt like, and she began to hyperventilate as the full scope of the woman's treachery hit her like a runaway train. “You can't do that! YOU KNOW THAT'S A LIE! I ....I would be ruined!” she wheezed, all the color draining from her face.

  Satisfied that the balance of power had just shifted, an even more sinister smile contorted Martina’s usually innocent looking features. “Well, you had best figure out a way to get him back here, alone, and I mean like yesterday, GRACE, or you'll not only be humiliated by my hands, but you'll almost certainly face time in prison, to boot. If I can't have Granger and this life...” she said as she waved her hand around the beautifully decorated office. “....if I can't have it, then we'll BOTH go down. I'll personally see to it that the Mortensen name is dragged through the mud and back. And even if you don’t go to prison, no amount of money will EVER make you acceptable in our social circles again. Well
, what do you say, are we a team?” she finished, then stepped back and smiled sweetly.

  Chilled by the woman's constant, swift, chameleon-like transformations, Grace croaked, “You're mad. You're completely...MAD!”

  Satisfied with the look of utter horror on the woman's face, Martina had little doubt her point had been driven home decidedly. Leaning close again, she gave her a peck on the cheek, pointedly ignoring the fact the woman flinched as if her flesh had just been seared with a branding iron. “Well, I must take my leave of you, Mother Grace, but I'll return in a few days. And I expect to find Granger here when I return. I'll bring some bride books, so we can begin planning for the perfect wedding. Chow!” she chirped, then picked up her purse and left as if nothing had happened.

  Watching her leave, Grace's eyes narrowed to slits and her lips curled back in a feral snarl. That sneaky, manipulative, backstabbing BITCH!... she thought, then, spurred by desperation, she rushed to the desk and picked up the phone, summoning her personal assistant.

  Afterwards, she strolled as calmly as she could to the large window, looking out at the vast mountain estate. For so many years, the majority of her life, actually, the estate had always represented the image she had wanted the entire world to see of her, a woman of importance, a woman to be admired, a woman to be reckoned with. And now it seemed as if she would lose it all. Unless she....

  “You wished to see me, ma'am?” a familiar voice called, interrupting her thoughts.

  Turning, she saw her personal assistant, a breathtakingly handsome young man named Gilbert Ryna, standing inside the doorway, adjusting his tie. She also noticed his usual, immaculately groomed hair was tousled. Screwing the little Guatemalan maid again, I take it.... she thought as jealousy wormed it's way through her stomach, but she quickly dismissed the thought, knowing her very livelihood depended on concentrating on the business at hand. Struggling to compose herself, she managed a winning smile, then practically glided across the room to greet him. “Come in dear, come in, and shut that door for me will you, please?”

  “Yes ma'am.” he replied, then closed the door and locked it for good measure, on the off chance she was in the mood for one of the frequent, wild fuck-sessions she never seemed to get enough of. The woman's appetite for sex was voracious, easily surpassing the libido of most women who were twenty years her junior.

  Seating herself behind the desk again, she opened a drawer and fished out the family check book, one that was used for household expenses. It was the only family account Granger had given her a free hand with. Picking up a pen, she opened the book and began filling out a check in complete silence.

  What's this all about? She's never paid me extra before, for that. I mean, not that she would have to anyway, she's one sexy older broad, for sure.... Gilbert thought. His member was already growing rigid, despite the fact he had blown a huge load inside the petite young maid just moments earlier. He supposed he wasn't the only one who had an overactive sex drive, and the extremely large staff employed by the household, most of whom were attractive, buxom young females, had proven to be pussy heaven for him.

  Finished, Grace placed then pen down, got up, then approached him. Handing the check to him in silence, she waited, to gauge his reaction.

  Looking at the figure, his eyes grew wide with shock, then dread suddenly hit him as he remembered an ugly, bloody mess he had been ordered to help clean up at a cabin, years earlier. He had been paid forty thousand dollars then too, to ensure his loyalty and silence concerning the incident. “What is it you need?” he stammered, fearing the answer.

  Reaching up in an intimate gesture, she brushed imaginary lint off the shoulders of his tailor-made suit, one she herself had bought for him. “I need a gun, something powerful, dear.” she purred. Shifting her attention from his shoulders to his face, she began caressing one cheek lightly with her fingertips, a gesture that always drove him wild. Pressing her bosom against him, she did what she always did, using the tool she had learned to use at a very young age, sex. “Just make sure it's not traceable, that's very important.”

  “I'll see what I can do, ma'am.” he answered shakily as her hand stole it's way down to his crotch, making him close his eyes and moan.

  Getting down on her knees, she slowly unbuttoned his trousers, then pulled his throbbing member out of his silk boxer shorts. Kissing the tip of his rock-hard manhood, she mumbled, “You won't let me down, will you, my beautiful young Adonis?”

  Another moan was his only reply.

  Knowing she had him hooked through the cock yet again, she marveled at how easily men succumbed to the wiles of women. Sliding her full lips over the head of his penis, she felt him shudder, then she took it all the way in.

  “I won't...let you down.” he gasped as he dropped the check on the floor. “You'll have it by morning.” he groaned, then grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and began pumping his hips vigorously as she worked her magic.

  ******************************************

  “That was the best dinner I've had in a very long time.” Jocelyn complimented the owner of the restaurant, a young African American woman named Shannon. She and Granger had been surprised when Cassandra had brought them to the old train station, claiming the place had the best atmosphere and the most wonderful soul food that could be found in the state. The Train Station Restaurant was decorated simply, with both booths and long tables for groups of people. The drinks were served in old fashioned Mason jars, and they weren't stingy with the heaping portions of food on every platter served. Connected to the building was an old train car, which the young owner had converted into a cozy little bar.

  “I'm glad you enjoyed it, and this meal is on us.” the young woman beamed, basking in the praise. “You know, your daughter is a great friend, and she was a big help convincing the town council to give me the business license I needed. They wanted to tear the place down, can you believe that? Cassandra found documentation which qualified this place as a Historic Landmark. So, instead of me having to be forced to sell to some greedy developer, they let me go ahead with my original plans.” Smiling again, she bid them farewell, then wandered off to greet other customers.

  Granger glanced around the packed restaurant, which was filled with people of all walks of life, both blue collar and white collar. His gaze finally settled and lingered lovingly on Cassandra, who at the moment was chatting it up and laughing with members of the small, but talented jazz band that played here, on a regular basis, from what he had been told.

  “She's...different in some ways. She seems more secure, more comfortable in her own skin, as they say.” Jocelyn remarked, following his gaze and capturing his attention. “I mean, she's always been good with people, and never had problems finding and defending a good cause, but now it's like she's finally comfortable with who she is.” My baby is a strong woman now, and she doesn't take shit like she used to... she thought as she watched her proudly

  “I agree with you. I was blown away to find out how she helped save this place, and her other community activities. She couldn't remember a thing about her past, but she didn't let that hold her back.” he mused as he watched her bid goodbye to the musicians and make her way back to their table. My Lord, how blessed I am that this amazing, sexy woman is actually married to me... he thought.

  Sliding into the booth next to him, Cassandra took his hand in hers, then laced her fingers around his. “You guys have to try the Peach Ginger Tart, it's to die for.” she remarked as the dessert cart made its way to their table.

  Unable to eat another bite, both he and Jocelyn declined. “Honey, the garlic-lemon steak and pan fried potatoes filled me up.” he said as he kissed her cheek. Letting go of her hand, he draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer.

  She looked up at him, giving him a playful pout. “You guys are no fun. I guess I'll have to look like a pig all by my lonesome.” she said as she pointed to the dessert she wanted.

  Laughing, Granger shook head, his blue eyes full of li
fe as he watched her take a bite and murmur, “Mmmmmm...manna from heaven.”

  Jocelyn watched her daughter and son-in-law, relishing every moment, determined to never take a thing for granted, ever again, now that she had her baby back.

  ****************************************

  “Goodnight mom.” Cassandra said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Goodnight, baby.” she smiled, then slipped inside her suite.

  Hand in hand, Granger and Cassandra made their way back to their own suite.

  Once inside, she looked at her watch excitedly, noting it was four minutes shy of her allotted time to talk to her son. Their son. What if Regan hates me? The thought speared her.

  Granger watched her chew on her lower lip, both excitement and desperation stamped on her lovely face. He could sense her apprehension, it was rolling off her body in waves. “Cass, he's been waiting three years to hear your voice. He understands what happened was no fault of your own. Our son loves you. Just call, he'll do the rest.” he reassured her in a gentle voice.