Meeting the rest of his Cassadine family was a thirst he’d been nursing since he was a young boy. He’d been told from a young age that his family was crazy. Crazy rich, crazy powerful and just plain crazy in general. The various caretakers who trickled in and out of his life had all said the same thing; that he was well to be rid of that influence. The pictures in newspapers and brief clips on the BBC featured a reclusive figurehead in Stefan Cassadine, flanked as always by his gatekeeper, Alexis Davis. There was the young prince, Nikolas, a serious looking orphan, with a solemn gaze that contradicted his young age. There was the firecracker in Sabrina De Lane and then the other many Cassadines who floated in and out of the frame.
Archer himself was never a part of the pictures or the newsreels. His name was never recognized as a member of the wealthy family, born of Russian royalty.
Nor was he associated with the madness that seemed to overshadow the family at times. The infighting, the mysterious deaths, power plays and of course, the attempting to take over the world through a weather machine. In the last decade or so, things had calmed down. Power had formally transferred over to the new prince, Nikolas and with him stood his younger brother Andresj.
New members had joined the ranks as well. The young prince had married and now had his own children. Stefan, Alexis and Sabrina had done the same and soon Andresj would join the family in welcoming his own bride into the fold.
But not Helena.
Oh, she was family.
But she would never be welcome.
And he knew all too well that coolness would extend to him.
Being an outsider was a coat he’d worn all his life, deserved or not, it fit him well and as the years passed, he’d taken a measure of comfort of it against his skin.
So to be sitting in the Port Charles Grille waiting for a member of the family he’d been parched of all his life, knowing he was the outsider looking in, knowing he did not belong by so many virtues was not an easy task and yet, he found a kind of pride in that discomfort. He gazed around the busy restaurant, taking stock of the business attire that much of the lunchtime clientele that littered the room in groups of two or three, pouring over their tablets and phones and speaking in hushed, reverential tones, as though their work was so important, it needed to be shown to an entire crowd of peers.
Archer lifted the tall glass of water and took a small sip, taking the crushed ice into his mouth and crunching down on as his attention turned back to the entrance. His gaze flicked down to his stainless steel Invicta watch, knowing he was still early but nonetheless wondering when his companion would arrive. Helena would hiss at the notion of arriving before the other party, insisting it signaled weakness. She’d sit in a vehicle three blocks from the location for hours until she knew she was arriving last. He knew there was a point to her position, but he had never really agreed with it. Everything to Helena was a sign of weakness.
“I’m so sorry for being late,” spoke the harried voice he’d only conversed with twice before on the phone.
Archer rose and immediately moved towards the chair opposite him. “Apology accepted.”
Alexis Davis flashed a smile his way, but carefully tucked the gesture and remark in the back of her mind, as she would everything else about Archer Cassadine. She sat, allowing him to push her chair in, her plum colored Marc Jacobs number demurely speaking to her trim figure and shapely legs and reaching into her black Phillip Lim satchel, she pulled out a slim white folder and placed it on the table before her. Her movements were precise and business like and while the general tone in the entire room did not change, Archer was acutely aware that everyone who was anyone had seen the power attorney and had ever so slightly turned their attention to her. It was a masterful display of typical class envy on their part. He felt a smidgen of it himself, pricing her entire outfit in a matter of moments, knowing that most of the people in the room would spend half a year’s salary on something she might don 3 times in a year. Alexis, in turn, took no notice as she instead smiled at the waiter who’d materialized with menus.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” she began as she pulled her reading glasses from a pocket and put them on, peering down at the menu. Archer allowed a small smile. 2 days was short notice, 6 weeks was not, but he made no comment. “I hope your flight went well,” she continued as she finally looked at him, lowering her menu.
Small pleasantries like these normally set his teeth on edge, but not today. Today he was in the company of an equal and there would be no way he would allow her to think otherwise.
“I think I’ll have the BLT on sourdough,” he offered, closing his menu. “I think I’ll have it with the butternut squash soup. You?”
Alexis blinked once, her lips narrowing slightly and although he was not positive, he saw traces of a smile hinting behind her deep brown orbs. “I think I’ll go with the Reuben, on rye.”
Once the orders were placed, Alexis turned to the business at hand. “The reason I asked you here is fairly simple, which is unusual for a family like ours.” Archer lifted his chin slightly and folded his hands together in his lap as he leaned back, as if he were settling in for a long, languid story.
“When Nikolas began formally welcoming family members into the Cassadine fold, it created quite a bit of unrest, but Nikolas was determined to set a precedence of acknowledging all Cassadines, however slim their connection.” She pressed a bejeweled hand to her chest, “I know a little bit about being kept in the dark, so I was more than willing to take on the task of speaking to family members and walking them through the process.” A flicker of something passed over her face in the briefest of moments, but he still caught it.
“So I’ve brought some papers for you to peruse and sign,” she continued, placing her hand on top of the file folder. “You’ve seen copies of them already, but I would suggest looking them over before you sign them. You can send them back to me at your leisure, but I do need them within a fortnight.”
Archer glanced at the file folder and Alexis slowly slid it towards him. With barely a glance, he opened the file, and with lightning speed, retrieved a pen from his breast pocket and signed the papers before handing them back to Alexis. Alexis stared for a long moment, almost flabbergasted at the display. “That could have been anything!” she said with a dismayed tone.
Archer gave an easy shrug and Alexis shuddered in response. “Don’t make a habit of doing that, please,” she said with a wince. “For family attorneys, that’s the stuff of nightmares. You could have just signed your life away.”
Archer chuckled at the remark. “I figure that already happened the day I was born.”
Alexis picked up the file and put it back into her satchel and gave him a wry grin. “We’re not all bad, really and truly.”
It was the opening he’d been looking for. “So you aren’t pissed off then?” His tone was light and curious, but an underlining hardness registered on Alexis’s face as she took in the implication. Her spine stiffened and her fingers clenched ever so slightly.
“I was for a long time,” she finally said addressing his query head on. She took in a breath, as if she was going to say more, but then stilled and silence filled the air instead.
“So you forgave them?” His second question was much softer than the first, as if knowing he was treading on thinner ice.
She studied him for a moment, drinking in the regal demeanor, the strong chin and broad shoulders that complimented his calm exterior. She was struck by how similar it was to her elder brother. “As much as I could.”
He inclined his head. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. We’re a family.” Her tone was neither warm nor cold, but merely resigned. The denial of her birthright would always be a tender spot in her heart, as would the unresolved emotions that she carried for her long deceased father.
Archer couldn’t agree more. “Yes,” he replied with a nod. “Yes we certainly are.” Their gazes locked and Archer offered a silent look of empathy. Uncertain eyes stared back. Out of all of the Cassadines, Alexis was the one he wanted to meet first. He didn’t quite know why until now.
Another outsider.
The arrival of their meals interrupted the moment, but as she reached for her napkin, Alexis stole another look at the man before her. The man who’d she read everything about, but knew so little about up close. She watched as he pulled his own cloth napkin over his knee and delicately placed it in his lap, just as she had seen Helena do when she was a child. Just as she knew Stefan did the same way every day of his life, just as Nikolas and Andresj did as well.
Helena’s influence was everywhere. She would be well to remember this from now on.
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