Chapter Four: Commitments
Carly's office
Gia paused a moment outside of Carly's door, her hands reaching up to nervously tuck her hair behind her ears. She glanced over at the reception desk, where Elton was currently beleaguered with two phones and a chirping beeper. Nevertheless, he lifted his head and blew her a kiss and flashed her a reassuring smile when he caught her watching him. She smiled back, tugged the knot in her shirt a little tighter, and turned and entered her boss's office.
Carly looked up as the office door opened, and held out a hand towards Gia, stopping her where she was. She held the other woman's gaze a long moment then spoke into the phone. "Yeah, she's here. I'll have to call you back." Carly hung up the phone with a quick snap and stalked around her desk, leaning back against the edge and regarding Gia. Her eyes flashed, and she reached for a newspaper, one of several piled on the desk, tossing it to the younger woman. "Guess you had yourself quite a night, huh, Gia?" Carly bit out, her tone harsh.
Gia picked up the paper from where it had fallen at her feet and folded it; she didn't want to see the headline, not yet. She lifted an eyebrow, playing it as nonchalantly as she didn't feel. "Yeah," she shrugged, "guess I did."
Carly regarded her, disbelievingly. "Is that all you're gonna say, Gia? That's the explanation you're gonna offer??"
Gia tossed her hair behind her shoulders, her chin held high. Her intention had been to come in her, smooth things over with Carly and someone from PR, but Carly was bringing out the fighter in her. "Since when do I have to offer any kind of explanation on what I do with my private life? You're my employer, Carly, not my keeper."
"I'm the woman who signed the other side of your contract," Carly snapped back. "Hell, yes, I'm your employer, Gia. And, it's my company who's name is all over every single newspaper in this town because you decided to go out and get drunk with a mobster in front of a damn photographer! Damnit, Gia," Carly slammed her hand down on her desk, "Laura called me from Europe about this; I had to deal with her. I HATE dealing with Laura."
"You want to point to me exactly where in that contract you keep talkin' about it says that you get to be in charge of who I get drunk with when I leave the studio?"
"You really want me to tell you, little girl?" Carly's eyes flashed dangerously. "'Cause I can pull it out and point to the paragraph, Gia. It's called a morals clause, hon, and your signature's at the bottom. You made a commitment when you signed with this company and part of that commitment is keeping your panties on!"
Gia laughed, incredulously. "You're invoking a morals clause on me? Are you serious?" She deliberately opened the newspaper, steeling herself not to flinch at the photo of her standing on the pool table, Jason's hand reached up to support her. Gia held the picture up and faced Carly. "You know what, Carly? I'm starting to think that your real problem isn't what I did, but who I did it with."
The words hung in the air, creating their own kind of immediate silence. "And, I think you've got a hell of a nerve coming into my office the day after you may have cost this company thousands of dollars and telling me the only reason I'm pissed off is because you were with Jason." Carly's voice was icy; her eyes were colder.
Gia slowly rolled up the newspaper and lay it down on the end table beside the couch. She met Carly's gaze with difficulty. "Just calling it like I see it, Carly. I thought we were friends. Are you honestly gonna tell me that the reason you're this pissed off is because my name's in the paper? You're the one who said, after that crap with Liz, that there's no such thing as bad publicity and now you're threatening me with morals clauses ‘cause I had a wild night after breaking up with my boyfriend?" She shook her head. "I know better than that."
Carly waited a long moment before giving a response; she moved past Gia to the couch and sat down, propping her feet up in front of her. "You broke up with Nikolas?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder to see Gia's response. At her nod, Carly turned back. "Good. The little princeling always did seem to have a rather large stick up his a--"
"Carly!"
"Sorry," Carly shrugged, indifferently, then patted the couch beside her. Gia sat down warily. Carly drew one of her legs underneath her and turned towards the other woman. "Okay, so you might be a little, teeny bit right. Mostly, I am pissed because this company is new, and though the media loves you right now, that doesn't mean it's always gonna be that way. And, that scares me. But, maybe there was," she rolled her eyes, "is a little part of me that's always gonna hurt when I see Jason with another woman. It's not even that I want him or that I'm jealous, it's just," her smile was slightly lopsided, "he's Jason. And, I love him."
"Carly, look," Gia leaned back and turned her head towards her boss and friend, "Jason and I aren't -- anything. It was a stupid one-night stand at Jake's."
"Yeah, that's how it starts. Been there, bought the t-shirt, worn it to pieces, burned and buried it," Carly half-laughed, her temper flaring out as quickly as it had risen. "Just don't hurt him, Gia," her voice was playful but her eyes were dead serious. "Because you don't wanna see me really pissed."
"I'm not gonna hurt him, okay?" Gia tossed her hair and stood up, moving around impatiently. "I'm not even gonna see him again. God, I don't even want to!"
Carly watched Gia pacing around the room like an animal in a cage. Whatever else the girl was good at, she was one of the worst liars Carly had ever met. She shook her head, but, "Okay," was all she said. Carly stood up. "You have a meeting with Lisa down in PR; she'll go over how we're gonna handle this. Leaking your break-up with Prince Nikky might not be a bad thing."
"I don't want this to hurt Nikolas," Gia protested, softly.
"Wake up, hon," Carly said, not ungently. "I'm sure the man reads the papers; that boat's sailed." She paused a moment, then walked over to Gia, placing a hand on the small of back and pushing lightly. "Go. Lisa's waiting. This'll blow over."
After gently manipulating Gia out of her office, Carly picked up the paper Gia had put down and unrolled it, staring at the grainy picture again. Despite herself, her eyes caught and held on Jason's face; she could swear to God,even though she knew better, he was smiling. Carly shook her head, and muttered under breath. "Eventually."
Alexis' office
She looked up at the knock on her door, pushing her glasses up on top of her head. "Come in," Alexis called, standing up and walking out from behind her desk eagerly. At this point, she didn't care who it was; any interruption was welcome if it meant a break from the dusty old Cassadine holdings files. When she'd agreed to become her nephew's trustee, Alexis hadn't thought further than the court battles. It was after the legal dust had settled that the real headaches of this job had begun.
The door to her office opened slowly, and a hesitant man poked his head in the doorway. "Alexis?"
Her jaw dropped, and after a moment's recovery, Alexis walked towards him with outstretched hands. "Mike," she said warmly, taking his hands in hers, "how are you?"
His smile was the same as it had been six months ago -- or almost. A little sadder. A little more kissed by loss. But, there was still the cocky yet diffident grin she remembered on Mike Corbin's face. "Alive. Not passed out in a gutter somewhere. Which is, believe me, an improvement over recent months."
"Oh, Mike," Alexis blinked back sudden tears. Sonny's death had hit her hard, for whatever reason, but she'd thought she was over it. Until she saw Mike's hard-worn face looking back at her. "You know, I never really got a chance to tell you how sorry--"
Mike stopped her words with a brush of his hand. "You know, part of the reason I waited so long to come back to Port Charles is that I wasn't sure I could deal with that," his small half-smile made it clear he wasn't admonishing her. "I don't want your sympathy, Alexis, though I know you, at least, mean it."
She nodded, briskly, and slipped her hands out of his. "Okay then, I can handle that," Alexis indicated one of the chairs in front of her desk and as he took it, sat in the other one, facing him. "So tell me, Mike, what can I do for you?"
Mike reached in his breast pocket and drew out two thick envelopes and lay them on the desk. "I don't know what you charge, Alexis, but I think I can cover it."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, all her instincts aroused. "Are you in some kind of trouble, Mike? Is that why you've come to see me?"
Mike shook his head. "No," he said simply. "For maybe the first time in my life, I'm not in trouble and not looking for any. But I do need your help." He hesitated and reached in one of the envelopes and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, sliding it across the desk to Alexis. "Will this cover a retainer?"
Alexis looked more closely at Mike. "Yes," she said slowly, deciding to wait for him to tell the story at his own pace. Deciding that if he weren't going to tell it without the precaution of a retainer, then it must be some story.
"I've picked up enough from TV and from, from my son to know that this conversation's just between us now, right?" At Alexis's nod, Mike visibly relaxed. "Good. I need -- the reason I'm here is that I need to set up some kind of a -- trust fund, I guess." He shifted in his seat slightly. "I don't know the right names; I just need to put some money away for someone."
"A trust fund is one way to do that; I can set one up for you," Alexis said pragmatically, grabbing a legal pad and pushing her glasses back down on her nose. "Two questions, though, first. One, who is this for? And, two," she looked at Mike over her glasses, "is the money clean?"
He nodded. "Clean as it comes. When I left town after -- after, I didn't give a damn. About anything. Not Tammy or my godson or even my beautiful granddaughter." Mike studied the floor for a moment, before finding Alexis' eyes again. "I went to the City, proceeded to get as drunk as possible for as long as possible. I gambled away everything I had, or tried to. Damnedest thing kept happening," this time his grin was bitter. "I kept winning. More and more, and so I bet more and more. I don't know how much it got up to; by then, I had stopped keeping track. And, so, one day, I bet it all at the tracks. All of it, one bet, one horse. And -- I lost." He spread his hands. "Every dime, every cent. Except for one dollar. You know what I did next? I bought a lottery ticket. My last dollar, and I still can't stop gambling. And, because the universe has a sense of humor, even when there's nothing left to laugh about," he cocked his head to the side, reading in the amazement in her face that she already knew what his next words would be, "I won." Mike laughed, then sobered quickly. "God takes away my son and gives me half a million dollars. I don't want the blood money, even if it comes from him," he half-jerked his chin upwards. "But, that doesn't mean I can't do something with it, other than pissing it, ‘scuse me, away. So, I want to make a trust; I want to do something right. Alexis, I want to give this to my daughter."
"Oh." Her voice was soft, and it took her a moment to form more words than just the one. "Mike, that's -- quite a story. With quite an ending. I wasn't aware that you had a daughter."
"Neither is my daughter. It's twenty year old secret, and I'm not sure that breaking it now is right for any of us. But, I'm a selfish old man. I lost my son. I've lost twenty years of my daughter's life. If I can't get them back, the least I can do is make it so she'll never have to worry about the next twenty years. Not that that looks to be a problem."
"Mike?" Alexis broke in quietly. "I'll need the particulars, sooner or later. Her name?"
He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Gia. Gia Campbell is my daughter." His laugh was gruff. "Never would have thought an old guy like me could have a daughter beautiful as that, huh?"
"I -- never would have thought a lot of things." She wrote rapidly, pausing only to stare at him. "Gia is your daughter??"
Mike nodded. "It's a long story and an old one and not all mine to tell. Do you need to know it to do this thing?" he gestured at her paper.
Alexis shook her head. "No, no I don't." And I'm not sure I want to she added silently, thinking of her nephew's hot-tempered girlfriend. "I can set the fund up within a week, if you'll sit down with me sometime tomorrow morning to go over the details."
"Thank you," Mike said, quietly and rose. "I won't take anymore of your time, but I really appreciate you doing this."
"Of course," Alexis rose as well, and reached out to grab his arm before he disappeared out the door as suddenly as he'd come in. "And, Mike?" She rested her free hand lightly above her heart. "Welcome home."
Jax's PH
"Honey?" Jax called loudly as he opened the door, jogging lightly in place, still in his warm-down phase. "Hannah, you home?" He paused, listening for an answer. On hearing none, Jasper Jacks released a sigh of relief, jogging lightly over to the couch and throwing himself down, one arm behind his head.
Maybe it had started out unconscious, timing his morning run to last just past the hour when he knew she had to leave for work. Coming home before she got in, and leaving again for dinner meetings he knew she couldn't make. Sooner rather than later, Jasper Jacks had to face the fact that he was avoiding his wife.
Hannah, his wife. He shook his head, his eyes closed painfully. When had he first known they'd made a colossal mistake? In the first month? On their honeymoon? On their wedding day?? It hadn't been long; what had been the hard part had been acknowledging it, even to himself. He had so wanted this marriage, this relationship, to work. Had desperately needed it to. And so, he supposed, had she. Which is what had brought them here, to this point. Two polite strangers, sharing a penthouse, who didn't know each other any better than they had when they'd wed.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Jax had impulsively proposed marriage, a month to the day after he'd come back to town and seen her laughing in the park, so like the ghost he'd left town to chase. Hannah was so beautiful, and she made him laugh, and she'd seemed to need him so much. Not his money, or the things he could give her, but -- he, himself. Hannah Scott had needed Jasper Jacks to lose herself in. To be the bright, shining opposite to every bad choice she'd ever made. And, because he'd needed to be needed, he'd been that for her. What a fool he'd been!
It wasn't that she wasn't all he'd thought she was -- Hannah was a good wife to him, and she'd married him in good faith, expecting a good husband. Neither of them had mentioned the word ‘love'. They'd made this huge commitment to one another, and not bothered with the thing, the foundation that lay beneath it, figuring, both in their own ways, that they'd had passion; it burned. Safety, companionship, an easier and gentler form of love -- that's all they'd claimed to want. He, at least, had lied.
Jax knew that now. Had known it for months, but now -- now he was ready to face it. This -- experiment, or whatever it was, had failed and failed dismally. They shared a bed, a dinner table, a home, and looking into her dark eyes, there wasn't one moment that Jax had any idea what was going on in Hannah's heart. Nor, if he face the truth, did he really care to. It just didn't matter to him, and he wanted something to matter again. He had decided, this morning as he ran to clear his head, that it was over. His marriage was over. And, it was time to tell her. He didn't think it would be that hard; Hannah couldn't be any more content with this ‘marriage' than he was.
"Jax?" The voice was soft, at his shoulder, and utterly unexpected. He sat up hard to see his wife standing behind the arm of his shoulder, her face pale.
"Hannah," Jax looked up at her, "honey, I didn't realize you were home. I called; you didn't answer."
She nodded. "I heard you, but I was--" Hannah bit her lip. "Jax, I have something to tell you, but I'm not sure how." She sank down on the arm of the couch.
He nodded, not really surprised. There was no way she hadn't come to the same conclusion he had; he may not be able to read her thoughts, but this one was pretty much a foregone conclusion. Jax reached for her hand, patting it reassuringly. "It's okay, Hannah. I'll understand, I promise."
She forced a smile. "You always do. But, this is something that I--" Hannah broke off, slipping her hand out from under his and twining it with her other, tightly. "Jax," she looked at her husband, her heart thumping in her throat, "I'm pregnant."
