Deception offices
“Margherita,” Carly hit the intercom button on her phone, standing up as she rifled through a sheaf of proofs, “set up a meeting with the heads of marketing and legal. And, that new ‘whiz-kid’ photographer, as soon as possible.”
A moment later her office door opened, and Carly’s petite red-haired assistant stuck her head in with a knowing grin. “Seen the proofs?” she asked.
Carly moved around her desk to the small conference table and laid out the sheets of small photos. She grimaced. “They suck. Totally, completely. I can’t even tell what the hell we’re supposed to be selling. And, I swear to god, ‘Rita, that this,” she fingered one of the small squares with a revolted expression, “is a picture of a toe.”
“Oh good,” the assistant breathed, relieved. Carly looked at her, confused. “’Cause when the proofs first came in I thought it was a picture of something else.”
“Oh. OH.” Carly lifted her hand quickly off the photo and took a step back. “Man, way to ruin my appetite. Okay, so this so-called artiste we hired is in the damn studio taking pictures of body parts, and we’re paying him?” She shook her head. “I was against this from the beginning. When we sat down with that stringy-haired kid and he demanded an exclusive contract,” she shook her head. “And, Shara talked me into it ‘cause he waved around a degree from art school and had a portfolio full of crap-ass art pictures. And ‘cause she’s sleeping with him. Shit.” She pushed the sheets aside disgustedly. “I can’t use a single one of these; I’m gonna have to reschedule the whole shoot. Today, of all days, I totally do not need this.”
Rita brushed a curl off her freckled face and scanned the clipboard in her hand. She shook her head. “Honoré’s booked for the rest of the month. We’re going to have to get another model. And, obviously another photographer, which’ll mean shuffling schedules at the very least -- bribes at the most.” She began walking absently for the door; Carly knew that glazed-over eyed look well. Rita’d have the problem solved by that afternoon.
Carly walked back behind her desk, picking up the phone as she called through the door to her assistant, “Call Elite; their newest booker, Mary Jane Something, owes me a favor.” She punched in an interoffice number viciously, her mouth setting. When the woman on the other end picked up, her words were short, to the point, and very very cold. “Shara. My office. Now.” She looked up, surprised, when a knock at her door coincided with the phone slamming into the receiver. “Come in.” Carly called, her hands on her hips.
A woman with close-cropped hair and cafe-au-lait skin stuck her head in the door with a tentative smile. That smile and that face had been on countless ‘Most Beautiful’ lists in the past five years; Carly knew -- she had been the one to put it there. “Hey, Carly,” Gia Campbell said, pushing the door open. “If this is a bad time...”
“No, no,” Carly moved quickly around the desk. “I was just expecting--” She made a quick brushing off motion. “It doesn’t matter. God, Gia! You look...” Carly stalked around her, then pulled the other woman into a tight embrace. “You look amazing. But, why didn’t you tell me you were coming into town?”
Gia returned Carly’s embrace, then stepped back, shrugging with a small laugh. “Until I got here, I wasn’t sure I was. I kept thinking I was gonna turn the car around and go back home the whole car ride.” She ran her fingers through her short hair with a sigh. “I don’t know if I know how to do this, Carly.”
“Do what?” Carly asked, slowly, regarding Gia. Her eyes widened as realization struck. “Did you bring--”
Carly’s office door flew open, and a miniature tornado raced in and attached itself to Gia’s knees. “Mama, I missed you,” her son insisted.
Gia laughed, and scooped the boy up in her arms, blowing a raspberry against his stomach. “Five minutes, Jack. Mama was gone five minutes. You’re such a silly goose.” She blew another raspberry as her son crowed delightedly. A moment later, Gia turned back to face Carly. “Jackie, you know who this is?”
The little boy studied Carly from head to toe with the frankness of the very young. Finally he shook his head, leaning against his mother’s neck. “Pretty,” Jack said, blue eyes twinkling.
“Oh, Jackie, my man, you are a boy after my heart,” Carly exclaimed with a small laugh, reaching out to ruffle Jack’s hair. “I’ll give you a hint -- I’ve talked to you on the telephone every single one of your birthdays, but the last time I saw you, you were a black and white picture about the size of my fist.” She held her hand up to demonstrate, and his eyes widened.
Jack looked at his mother for confirmation, and she nodded. Suddenly, he sat up, clapping his hands. “Aunt Carly!” Jack announced, pleased to have solved the puzzle. He stuck out his h and. “What do I get for winning?”
This time, Carly threw her head back and laughed fully. “Kiddo, you are so your mama’s son!”
“Hey,” Gia protested with a smile, “I’m not sure I like what you’re implying about me or my son.”
Carly lifted her hands in a posture of innocence. “Hey, I’m just saying ... blood will tell.” Her gaze sharpened. “Speaking of Jack and blood--”
“I noticed a day care on the first floor when we came in,” Gia interrupted hastily. “Is there any way Jack could hang out down there while we catch up?”
Carly held Gia’s gaze a long moment, then leaned over the desk and pressed the call button on the phone. “Rita? Could you come in here a minute?”
Rita stuck her head in the already open door. “You buzzed?” she asked Carly. She smiled at Gia. “Hi Ms. Campbell; good to see you again.”
“Yeah, would you mind taking Gia’s son Jack down to visit the day care center?” Carly smiled at Jack. “I know there’s some really cool toys he’d love to play with. And,” she added, “my daughter Jessa’s down there. I have a feeling the two of you might just hit it off.”
Rita reached out her hand to Jack as Gia slid him down; after a moment, and whispered encouragement from his mother, he took it. “You’re pretty, too,” he said, looking up at the redhead.
“Ooh, a charmer.” Rita grinned. “My kind of guy.” She looked over her shoulder at her boss. “Shara’s in the waiting area -- figured you’d want her to stew a while. I’ll send her in when you and Ms. Campbell are done.”
“Thanks Rita.” Carly and Gia waved goodbye to Jack and Rita, then as they left, Carly closed the door tightly. She turned to Gia. “Look, I’m no good at subtle, never have been. So -- you gonna tell Jack’s father that he’s got a kid?”
Gia crossed the room, sinking down onto one of the two easy chairs. She looked up at the other woman, hiding -- with some difficulty -- the slight trembling in her hands. She chose her words carefully. “I’m always going to be grateful for what you did for me when I was pregnant; you know that. But I don’t ... owe you information for that.”
Carly sat down in the opposite chair, leaning forward. “Gia, I helped you ‘cause -- well, mostly because I’d been there. But, Jack’s four years old now. I know I’m the last person who gets to talk about children and their fathers, but--”
“Yeah, you really are--”
“BUT,” Carly rode over Gia’s interruption with a glare, “I’ve been there, too. Screwed it up every possible way it’s screw-up-able. So, I know what I’m talkin’ about.” She fixed her gaze on the Gia. “He’s a good guy, Gia,” she spoke quietly. “He deserves to know he’s a father.”
For a moment, Gia looked as if she were about to explode. Her fingers clenched, her jaw set, and her eyes flashed something deeper than fire, more potent than pain. Slowly, forcibly, she relaxed. “I know,” she said, equally as quietly. “I’m here, aren’t I?” She pursed her lips, and her eyes clouded over. “It’s the whole reason I came back to this damn town. To introduce Lucky Spencer to his son.”
Lucky’s apartment
“No means no. How many times do I have to tell you? Didn’t you watch the after school special?” Lucky paused in the door to his bedroom, his hair still damp from the shower.
Emily giggled as her arms encircled his waist from behind. “And if I take advantage of you? What exactly are you going to do to me, Spencer? We both know I can totally take you.”
“That so?” Lucky turned abruptly, his arms sliding up her back. He bent her over his arm, kissing her deeply and dramatically. “Take me,” he murmured, as he righted the both of them, one hand rising to twine in her hair. “Take me, Em, I dare you.”
She had just lifted her hand to his cheek when a flying shower of Cocoa Puffs pelted them both. Turning, they saw Leslie Lu, leaning in the kitchen arch with a raised eyebrow. “Danger Will Robinson,” she drawled, munching on a handful of cereal. “Impressionable youth here.”
Emily laughed and disentangled herself from Lucky’s embrace. “Morning ‘Lu.” She reached in her pocked, grabbed a necklace, and proffered it to the girl. “Fasten this for me? I don’t trust your brother and his octopus arms.”
“Octopus arms?” Lucky protested. “I wasn’t the one all grabby and gropey and greedy. I,” he thumped himself in the chest, “am the poor innocent taken in by your evil wiles.”
Emily and Lu exchanged a glance, and simultaneously reached for the cereal box, grabbed a handful and took aim. Laughing at Lucky’s wounded yelps, Emily brushed her hand off on a nearby dishtowel and tugged at her skirt. She turned to Lu and shook her head tragically. “Poor you. He’s your problem for the next forty-eight hours. Family duty awaits; me and my womanly wiles are due at the house for breakfast in about half an hour.” She grabbed her keys off the hook by the door. “Pray for me.”
“Yeah, give AJ and the old man a big juicy kiss from me.” Lucky resumed picking cereal out of his hair. “And, give Miss Lila my love.”
“Will do.” She blew a kiss to both of them from the doorway, and headed out.
Lucky finished his grooming and shook his hair back into place. He reached for the cereal box, poured himself a bowl, then moved the box safely on top of the fridge. He perched on the stool beside his sister, tapping her on the head with a spoon. “What’re you doin’ up this early, sleepyhead? Other than ganging up on your big brother?”
Lu poked him in the side, sharply and tucked her silky dark hair behind her ears. She wrinkled her nose. “Jet lag. I’m still on Swiss time.”
“Yeah, I remember the feeling.” He grimaced ruefully. “When I was a kid, jet lagged was pretty much a permanent state.” Lucky took a few more silent bites of cereal. “How’s Dad?” he asked, finally.
Lu glanced sidelong at her brother. She was aware, with the intuition that came with a lifetime of navigating some very messy family politics, that he wanted an easy answer. “He’s good. He expanded the club last month. And, he’s,” she paused, “he met someone.”
Lucky took several long bites of cereal, chewing veeery slowly. “Oh.” He glanced at his little sister. “You okay with that?”
Lu laughed. “I introduced them. Her name’s Genevieve; she lives above the studio where I take ballet. Lucky,” she touched her brother’s arm, “Daddy really is doing good. He’s happy, I think. Not as happy as he was before, but as happy as I’ve seen him since Mom--” She broke off abruptly and looked down into her lap. “I really like her, Lucky. Don’t be mad at me, okay?”
Lucky shoved both his and his sister’s cereal bowls down the counter of the small island, and gripped her shoulders with his hands. “Hey, Lu, don’t be stupid. You’re my baby sister, and I love you. And, I’m never gonna be mad at you ‘cause of who you chose to like -- or love, whatever. Doesn’t work that way, kiddo, not for us.” He tugged on a strand of her hair until she lifted her eyes to his. “Not for Mom either,” Lucky said quietly. “I never saw her happier than when her kids were. If this friend of Dad’s makes you happy,” he dropped a kiss on her forehead, “ain’t nothin’ but good.”
Lu launched herself fiercely forward, slipping her arms tightly around her brother. “Love you,” she murmured, scrubbing her face against his shirt. A moment later, she straightened up, tucking her hair behind her ears with a quick motion. “Okay, sappy alert over.”
Lucky sighed a big mock sigh of relief and stood up to carry the cereal bowls to the sink. “Hey, since we’re done with the whole sibling bonding thing, wanna help me drag the futon into the office and move the computer out?”
Lu took a dishtowel from the refrigerator door and dried out the bowls as he handed them to her. “Yeah, about that... I was kind of thinking of staying with Nikky for a while. He seems really lonely, Lucky. More than just normal Nik-lonely, you know?”
Lucky nodded. “He’s been pretty down lately. After he and Sarah broke up, it was worse. And, something happened on his birthday when he went to Europe to take official control of the Cassadine zillions.” He shook his head, then ruffled his sister’s hair. “But if anyone can break him out of his funk, Lady Lu, it’s you. I’d love havin’ you around here, but you’re right -- Nik needs you more. Just try not to get bogged down in all the Cassadine gloom and doom over there. It gets to much, call me, I’ll bust you out.”
“Lucky,” she gave him a look. “I’ve been living with Dad for the past five years. I can do my own busting out.”
“Oh yeah?” Lucky grabbed the dishtowel out of her hand and flicked it at her.
His ballet-trained sister twisted deftly out of the way. “Yeah. Last birthday,” Lu grinned, “Daddy gave me my very own lock-pick.”
Mayor’s mansion
Alexis lifted both eyebrows, taking in the ornate front door of the mansion her brother had, apparently, bought. She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to Stefan to go completely overboard.” She lifted her hand to the heavy bronze door knocker, but before she touched it, the door swung open, and Alexis found herself enveloped in a hard embrace.
“Alexis!” Stefan drew back, placing a kiss on either side of her face. He let a hand rest on her shoulder as he drew her into the entry way. “I have missed you, sister. More than you know. But,” he looked behind her, “you did not bring your son. Or his father?”
Alexis shook her head ‘no’, wordless for a long moment. This man, this smiling demonstrative man wore her brother’s face but bore little resemblance to the brooding, tortured man she’d last seen a year ago. “Marcus had to work. And, I left the baby with Kristina. Stefan, you look,” she shook her head again, incredulously, “amazing. Marriage seemingly agrees with you.”
Stefan’s smile, improbably, widened. “Yes. That it does.” He escorted her into the house proper and gestured about. “So, what do you think? Is it the proper home for a Cassadine scion?”
Alexis turned in a slow circle, taking in the Oriental rugs in a faded,jeweled heap by the fireplace; the elegant, graceful lines of the dark cherrywood furniture upholstered in creams and muted shades of the same jewel tones in the rugs; the decidedly whimsical antique lithographs on the wall. Nary a gargoyle or candelabra in sight. “No,” she said, slowly. “I like it very much, Stefan. It’s ... a home. And, it’s beautiful. But, there’s nothing Cassadine nor proper about it.”
“Oh, good.” The Cassadine siblings turned as a third voice chimed in from the staircase. An elegant brunette took the last step down the marble stairs and crossed the room to join them. “I do so hate ‘proper’,” she wrinkled her nose as she reached Stefan’s side, linking her arm loosely and comfortably with his. “It never quite creates the right impression.”
Stefan made no move to pull away from her, as Alexis would have expected. Or -- she amended in her thoughts, as she would have expected before tonight. Before seeing him like this. Instead, he simply smiled and looked at the woman with something like pride in his eyes. “Alexis Davis, my wife, Anna Devane Cassadine. Anna, may I present my sister, Alexis,” he nodded.
Anna loosed her husband’s arm, extending her hands to Alexis with a warm smile. When Alexis met her grasp, Anna’s fingers closed tightly over hers. “You don’t know how delighted I am to meet you, Alexis. All Stefan’s childhood stories seem to begin and end with you; I’ve been on pins and needles.”
“I am-- slightly overwhelmed. In a very good way that is. I just had no idea--” Alexis broke off. “Sorry. When I’m this befuddled I tend to forget English. And, my manners.” She paused, then loosed her fingers to hug the other woman, briefly. “Welcome to the family, Anna; you seem to have made my brother exceedingly happy. For which I’ll never stop being grateful.” She pulled back, her forehead creasing slightly. “Anna Devane? The name seems so familiar...”
Anna nodded. “You’ve met my daughter, I believe.” Alexis still looked puzzled. “Robin Scorpio.”
“Oh! Robin, of course. But, I thought her mother was--”
“Dead. Yes.” Stefan lifted a single eyebrow. “It seems to have been a typical misconception. It’s a very long story, Alexis, and one that we will share with you. But, for today,” he crossed the room, lifting three already full champagne flutes from a tray and carrying them back, “let us concentrate on the future, not the past.”
Alexis took a glass from his hand, her head still spinning. She managed a stunned thought sincere smile and lifted her glass. “To the future,” she toasted, clinking her glass against her brother’s and his wife’s.
“To the future,” Anna echoed. “May it be long, and full of joy.” She shared a small intimate smile with Stefan, leaning her head on his shoulder. “To our family.” She drank again, then stood up straight. “Now, I’ll leave the two of you to catch up; I have a million boxes to sort through. Alexis,” she hugged her sister-in-law again, “I’m truly glad to have met you, finally. And, I hope to get to know you so much better.”
“Yes, of course,” Alexis said, weakly, returning the embrace. She watched Anna ascend the stairs before rounding on Stefan. “Okay, what is going on here, Stefan? Haven’t we had enough dead people walking around in this family for one lifetime?”
Incredibly, Stefan threw back his head and laughed. “My sentiment upon meeting my wife was remarkably similar. However,” he glanced up the stairs which she had disappeared, “Anna is firmly on the side of life, Alexis. Current common knowledge notwithstanding.”
“I just don’t understand.” Alexis sank down on a nearby couch. “First, you’re married and, to all appearances, quite happily so, which is making me reconsider every belief I held dear on the institution. Second, you’ve,” she looked around, “moved back to Port Charles which I seem to recall you swearing never to do. And, thirdly, you’re married and living in Port Charles with a dead woman!”
“I know. Shocking.” Stefan sat beside her. “But, come, sister. For our family, is it not par for the course?”
Alexis let out a small, unwilling laugh. “You know, I guess it is.” She lifted a hand, rubbing her chin; Alexis studied her brother. “You really do look remarkably well, Stefan. And, I really have missed you.”
He drew her into an embrace. “And I, you, sister. And, I you.”
