Christmas With Cassandra: A Billionaire Holiday Tale

by Cynthia Dane

  “Hey,” Seth greeted. “What’s up?”

  He crawled back into Judith’s bed. Her scent was all over it, and he intended to share some of his by the time she got back from the boss’s office.

  “Shit, man, you ain’t gonna believe it!” Zack’s candor should’ve been a huge red flag that mischief was about to set off. “Where are you? Are you sitting down?”

  “I’m lying down. Good enough.” Seth cleared his throat. “And what is it? You finally getting married?”

  “Huh? I need a girlfriend first to even think about that.”

  “Was simply teasing.”

  “Anyway! Hold on to your horses, brother, because your craziest ex is back in town.”

  “What?” Maybe Seth’s brain was too sex addled to handle what his friend said. “What are you talking about? I barely have any real exes.” Seth had been in his fair share of relationships, but most of them were so downbeat with amicable breakups (some of which he almost blinked and missed) that the idea of having a “crazy ex” was lost even to him. “You sure you don’t have me mixed up with some other poor fool?”

  “Cassandra.”

  Seth sat up. “What?”

  “Cassandra. Welsh. Is coming. To Town. For Christmas.”

  Oh. Oh no. Cassandra was the one woman Seth had tried to forget from his long dating history. They had barely dated. A few hookups that barely felt real because even for a rich doctor like he had been, Cassandra Welsh was out of his league. She was also one of the biggest tigers in the sack next to Judith, which had surprised him, because she projected such reserved warmth when they weren’t having sex.

  She had been pleasant to date… while they were actually dating.

  Then she showed up one day demanding to talk to Seth. By then, he had retired from medicine and was spending his life on his art. Even so, he was still the man most of his female friends turned to when they had reproductive questions. When Cassandra showed up on his doorstep crying that she thought she was pregnant, Seth’s first fear was that he was the father – because the last time their on again, off again affair occurred was six weeks before.

  Seth had heard many rumors after Cassandra suddenly disappeared. He was in a unique position in that he knew more than most people, and had kept every single secret. Not because Cassandra was his patient, but because he was not the kind of man to gossip with his peers in that manner. Particularly about a woman’s best kept secrets.

  Still, Seth was not her doctor, and without any equipment or access to labs, he couldn’t tell his ex-lover if she was pregnant or not. He did, however, flat out ask her if she thought he was the father, to which she said, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” Seth knew that Cassandra slept with other men. They had never been exclusive, no matter how much Zack teased him that she was his girlfriend. So what if she slept with others? It was never an issue until the pregnancy thing cropped up.

  So he had given her a hands-on exam and told her that while it was possible she was pregnant based on what she had told him, it was better for her to go to a practicing doctor to find out for sure. He referred her to the doctor who took over his practice and never heard from her again. Seth had assumed, like so many of the other men Cassandra had slept with, that either it was a false alarm or they were not the father.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Zack laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be? Do you know how much drama she’s going to cause?”

  “You need a girlfriend. Seriously. You sound like my grandmother when she plays bingo with her old lady friends.”

  “I’ll get a girlfriend when you fuck your girlfriend’s other boyfriend for more than her amusement.”

  “Would you fucking stop with that?” Typical. A friend finds out a guy is in a ménage with another man and automatically assumes every threesome is the gayest thing in the world. “You’re telling me you’ve never slept with Cassandra?”

  “Hell no. She’s not my type. She is like… the exact opposite of my type. I like my women snarly and loud. You know. Like your girlfriend.”

  “You can’t have her. I’m already sharing her with one other man. I can’t imagine sharing her with someone I have to actually pretend to like.”

  “You’re savage, man. That’s why I love you.”

  “Careful. I’m not the one getting giddy over rumors.”

  “How can I not be excited to see this mess go down at the Christmas gala? Dude, you know if she had that baby she’s going to be confronting the baby daddy once and for all. Maybe lots of baby daddies! Paternity tests for everyone!”

  “But you.”

  “But me!”

  Seth genuinely hoped that it did not come to that. Not just for his sake, but because the last thing the city needed was to be rocked with baby daddy drama. A ton of the potential candidates were now either married or in the midst of brand new committed relationships. If cats weren’t already tearing their way out of bags, then, well… they were about to!

  “How did you hear about this?” Usually Seth was the first to hear about such things thanks to Judith and her extensive gossip network. “And should I be offended that you called me first?”

  Zack didn’t take his time answering. “You know that apartment I rent for my art studio?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was working in it earlier today when I heard my neighbor and her boyfriend out in the hall gabbing so loudly about it. Honestly, someone should talk to Ms. Alison about keeping her voice down when it comes to such sensitive information.”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “Isn’t she the one always complaining about the fumes coming from your studio?”

  “Yeah, and when I work in there late at night, I hear her fucking her boyfriend. We’re even.”

  “I don’t think that’s even…” Because Zack probably enjoyed the show he was treated to on a semi-regular basis.

  “Did I ever tell you that guy used to be my frat brother back in college? Do I ever enjoy hearing him get the ol’ Domme cattle prod now after the hazing he treated me to back then.”

  “Too much info, man.” Seth barely knew who his friend was talking about. Not everyone stayed hip with who was dating whom, and he really didn’t care after the bedroom door opened and Judith returned, daggers blasting his direction. “I’ve, uh, gotta go. Talk to you later.” He hung up on Zach before the guy could protest.

  Judith stood beside the bed, robe open just enough to put her naked curves back on display. Seth was almost distracted by a nipple and pubic hair. Almost. No man could ignore that look he was getting.

  “Just heard something interesting,” Judith said with a bite to her tongue. Her foot ascended the bed, toes wiggling against Seth’s thigh. She was uncomfortably close to smashing his dick with her foot. “You. Cassandra Welsh. Start spilling everything you know and got, Dr. Christens.”

  He couldn’t say no to that, now could he?

  ***

  While Seth was in the shower, Judith took a few minutes to place an international phone call. Her other boyfriend would pay for it, anyway.

  “Mi amor,” came a grumbling, croaking voice. “You’re lucky I love you so much for calling me after midnight.”

  “Aw, was my baby asleep?” Judith leaned against her vanity, toes spreading in the air before her. The paint on her big toenail was chipped. Should she get it taken care of before she left, or get some fancy nails done in Monaco on Miguel’s dime? “Where are you, anyway? Monaco?”

  “Close. Spain.” Miguel yawned. “Valencia.”

  “Oh. Your parents’ place?”

  “Si.” The sleepier he was, the more he spoke in Spanish, or even French. But usually the French only came out if he was in Monaco or France for so long that his brain became nothing but oui and bonjour, the two French words Judith knew best. “Thought I would come by myself before I come get you.”

  “So sweet of you, baby.” Judith picked up her hairbrush and tackled some of the sex tangles on her head. The water continued to run i
n her bathroom. Knowing Seth, he was probably shaving in her shower. Too bad. She rather liked it when his reddish-brown beard grew in. Obviously nothing compared to Miguel’s hairiness, but a woman liked to be reminded that all of her male lovers were virile, testosterone-infused men. “When are you coming to get me again? I forgot to pencil it in.”

  “I’m coming in the day of this gala you want to go to and bringing you back two days later. I think it’s a Tuesday.”

  “Back to Monaco?”

  “Si, mi amour. We don’t have to deal with my family until Christmas Eve that weekend.”

  “Good! I want you all to myself without any shame hanging over me.” The shower stopped in the other room. “And before that, I want both of my men to spoil me here.” What was the point of having two boyfriends if she couldn’t get them both at the same time? Judith wished she could say that her favorite part was when they fucked her together, but the thing that got her off most was the rivalry between Miguel and Seth. Them fucking her was a bonus.

  Miguel groaned again. Judith’s sinking suspicion would be right to assume that her Spanish boyfriend was not groaning in pleasure. First she woke him up in the middle of the night in Spain? Now this? “I will give you whatever you want, Judith. With or without the other one tagging along.”

  “Now, Miguel,” Judith said, “it’s okay to say you like it when he’s there too.”

  “I will never.”

  “Fine. It’s okay to think it.”

  He was grumbling in French on purpose. Too bad Judith didn’t know enough French to know that her boyfriend was muttering that the next time they had a threesome, they were making Seth the most passive participant in the world. That was Miguel’s Christmas present. And Judith would find great joy in it, because she loved it when her men spread their peacock feathers and strutted around, attempting to outdo one another.

  One day, she often swore, they were going to backfire on one another… and she would have the glorious front row seat to their demise.

  “So why are you calling me?”

  Any other woman would have taken offense to his tone, but not Judith. She was more likely to put her hairbrush down and say, “Because I just found out that Seth might be some heiress’s baby daddy and I wanna talk trash to someone. What better candidate than you?”

  When Monica pulled Judith into her office to discuss who was coming back into town, the working woman hadn’t assumed that it had anything to do with her. Well, outside of that one time Cassandra paid every girl working at the Château to fool around with her. Who knew that there was a woman out there both she and Seth had been inside of at some point?

  That was the biggest shock… because, as usual, Monica knew more than Judith about what was going on in high society, and in this case her shortlist of possible baby daddies included Seth, as impossible as it was to imagine. Now, Judith had definitely heard the baby rumors, but Monica informing her that it was more than likely alive was the news. Judith didn’t care if her boyfriend was a dad. That went for both of her boyfriends, since Miguel had revealed more than once that he suspected his ex-girlfriend’s oldest child to be his.

  What a clusterfuck!

  Seth emerged from his girlfriend’s bathroom wearing nothing but black pajama bottoms. He smelled of his pine forest and lavender soap that he kept beneath her sink, not that Judith knew anything about that. Nor did she sometimes take hits of his soap when she missed her favorite men. That was the thing about them asking for exclusivity from her – when neither of them were around for a few days, she withered up and whined.

  And then made them work extra, extra hard once they were together again.

  “If that man is some kid’s father, I’ll eat my own dick.”

  Miguel often talked shit about Seth, but Judith knew it was all in good humor. Or at least it had better be.

  (It was.)

  “Funny.” Judith hooked her finger to lure Seth in her direction. As soon as it was feasible, she slammed that finger down the front of his pajamas and felt the hairs growing beneath his navel. “’Cause I was just about to eat his.”

  Didn’t take his medical degree for Seth to figure out who she was talking to. “Make sure you tell him I’ve fucked you twice already today. He’ll love that.” What he withheld was Hope he jacks off to the thought. (Miguel would. With himself inserted into the scene, of course.)

  “That’s diabolical, mi amor.”

  She made sure to keep Miguel on the line long enough for him to hear her sucking another man’s cock. ‘Twas all a part of her festive Christmas spirit.

  Too bad for Judith she really had no room to judge whether or not these men had children from previous relationships. Within the next year, she would be meeting at least two of them.

  Scene 9

  The Montoya-Rogers

  Anyone who has ever left their house before knows that there are multiple types of gross couples who continuously make spectacles of themselves and don’t even realize it (or at least care.) For years, Sylvia Rogers hated those types of couples, but only because of mad jealousy that made her pine for such a relationship in her life. Now that she had one, she was inclined to get as gross as possible every time she went out on a date with boyfriend Joseph.

  What better time of the year to make a mess of herself than just before Christmas. In a few days, Joseph would be taking time off work to go with Sylvia back to the east coast where her family and few friends lived. Until then, they were pissing away afternoons in coffee shops, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes and wondering if it would be okay to start making out or not. (Sometimes they didn’t bother wondering. They just did it, damnit.)

  Today, they practiced social decorum. Partly because this was Sylvia’s favorite neighborhood teashop, and she didn’t want to get dirty looks whenever she came in here by herself. Based on the punch cards she carried in her purse… well, she came here a lot. At least once a day. Sometimes twice. Because addictions. And rich boyfriends that paid for expensive tea.

  Joseph didn’t often get to come with her, unless they left extra early in the morning before he had to run off to work. So on the rare day he was dressed down in a jeans and a T-shirt, they would spend hours in the second floor of a renovated house on 23rd Street, as any decent couple would do.

  Their seats afforded them a great view of the shopping street below. Oregonians too badass for umbrellas ran through the rain or carried on with hoods over their heads. Tourists rushed from one side of the street to the other. Buses covered in raindrops stopped at the nearby shelter and picked up those desperate for a ride. But that was all she saw when she even bothered to look out the window. Usually, Sylvia only had eyes for her gorgeous boyfriend, whose hand she currently held on top of the table.

  Although their hands were clenched, their other hands were busy… on their phones. The place was so quiet save for the Ramones music playing on the speakers that they had to come up with some way to communicate what they really wanted to say. Because all of it was not fit for public consumption.

  “On the couch over there.” Sylvia looked over at the red couch in the middle of the café. “I want you on top of me right now.” Her hand squeezed his even harder. She only put her phone down so she could pour herself more tea from the pot they shared.

  Joseph considered the couch with wary eyes before typing a reply into his phone. “I was thinking more about this table here. Bend you over it and make you look out the window while everyone looks up at me ramming you.”

  “It’s raining, babe. Nobody’s looking up at us.”

  “They should be. You have a fantastic O face that needs to be shared with the world.”

  Sylvia leaned forward. Even though she wore a thick sweater to keep out the December cold, her T-shirt beneath offered an excellent shot of her cleavage. “And you have a fantastic face in general,” Sylvia said.

  Joseph put down his phone and leaned his chin against his hand. “Nothing compares to your face, Sylv.”

  �
�Really? Nothing?” Sylvia lifted her teacup. “Not even this tea? Because it’s pretty damn good tea.” She loved her black tea spiced with cinnamon. It went well with the whole café, which smelled of cinnamon and lavender. Hell, she loved anything spicy these days. It made her think of her hot boyfriend, who always wore scents that popped right off his skin. Sylvia could be dizzy for days if Joseph wore the right (or wrong) aftershave. Not that he had been shaving much lately. Half his face was covered in fuzz. Which felt really, really good against a girl’s thighs when she was getting spoiled…

  “I said nothing, and I’m sticking to it.”

  Sylvia chuckled. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t a man of such few words, but in this case I don’t mind it.”

  “Why use a lot of words when I can express myself physically instead?”

  Sylvia glanced around the room before slipping her foot up his leg. “Indeed, sir, why not?”

  Joseph shuddered beneath the touch of her toes. The great thing about him being a quiet guy recently was that it was one of his many ways of showing her intimacy. Kinda like shuddering whenever she touched him like this. “Watch your mouth, Ms. Rogers.”

  “Never.”

  Sylvia sat back in her seat with the intention of pushing her breasts up and showing off more of her cleavage. Instead, she was caught off guard by her ringing phone.

  “Really?” Joseph muttered. “We’re in a nice café, Sylv.” He tsked for extra effect.

  Sylvia was going to shut off her phone until she saw who was calling her – someone she hadn’t spoken to in a very, very long time.

  “Uh, hang on.” Sylvia let go of her boyfriend’s hand as she stood up and answered the phone. “Be back in a few.” She held the phone up to her ear on the way out of the café and down the stairs to the street, where the rain dripping off eaves gave her more privacy than sitting around a tiny café. “Hello?”

  The voice of Judith King was one she never thought she would hear again, even if their paths crossed in the coming future. “Hello? Is that you, Sylvia?”