Unmistakable sounds. Sighs. Little cries, moans, creaking. Gia gritted her teeth. Get on with it, she thought.
“Yes, Lucky, yes!”
Nikolas stirred. Then simply changed sides. Fortunate bastard, he slept like a log.
Gia hated the nocturnal sounds which showed that one couple under Nik’s roof was having sex. As far as she and the Prince were concerned she wasn’t so sure the word couple applied anymore. Nikolas was aloof. At least, after three uncomfortable nights in the living room couch he had joined her in bed.
It wasn’t the sex really. Gia had had dry spells that had lasted whole months, a few days did not bother her. She craved affection. Ever since the Incident they Never Discussed Nikolas hadn’t as much as held her in his arms.
And her whole body ached for him. Not just anyone’s touch. Him. Stupid girl, you went and fell in love, she admonished herself. Now what?
The voices grew louder. Gia covered her head with her pillow but it didn’t do much to muffle the sound.
Liz wasn’t at breakfast. She had an early class as she had informed the rest of the house’s occupants no doubt pointing out the fact that all of them were neither studying nor working at the moment. Of course, the boys would not see it that way.
Lucky stared at Nik’s orange juice. The inoffensive tall glass looked positively sinister to him. He gripped the little vial in his hand, so hard that for a moment he was sure the glass would give. He could just picture the scene, the unidentified liquid mixing with his blood. Perhaps burning his hand like acid. Punishing him.
The vial was still almost full. Lucky had managed to drug Nik the first four days but after Nik confided in him about the results something had shattered in him. Even before. He’d knocked over Nik’s coffee two days ago and since then he hadn’t been able to take advantage of the fact that he was living under the same roof as his naïve older brother.
“Everything alright, Lucky?”
He turned at the dark girl’s voice. Sharp, that one. Good for Nikolas and definitely a factor he would have to consider should he at some point find the courage to unstopper the little vial again. He deftly slipped it in his pocket. In the house he wore the bottom part of a tracksuit after Nikolas’ disapproving gaze had told him that no, it was not alright to be prowling about in his boxer shorts.
He blinked lazily and sat back in his chair crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’m fine. And yourself?”
“I could have done with a little more sleep.”
Her accusation flew right over Nik’s head but didn’t miss Lucky who even had the decency to blush a little.
“How did you sleep, Nikolas?” the blond young man asked tentatively.
“Like a baby. Why do you ask?”
Lucky turned to Gia with a semi-apologetic shrug. The girl got up with a sigh and went to the coffeemaker to refill her cup.
“What was that about?” Nik whispered.
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“She must have heard Liz and me, you know.”
Nik raised his hand. “Say no more. I don’t want to know.”
“You slept in your bed last night?”
“Yes.”
Lucky gave Gia a sideways glance. She was struggling with a carton of milk.
“You’re feeling better then?” Smooth Spencer, real smooth Of course he’s feeling better, you stopped giving him the stuff.
Nikolas raked his bottom lip. “Yes, I am better,” he said softly. “But I’ll see Dr. Collins again, it’s good for me.”
Gia was savaging the offending carton with a knife. A miracle had kept her from chopping a finger off since most of her attention was on the two young men. She couldn’t catch much of what they were saying but their expressions spoke volumes. Companionship. Almost complicity. She cursed loudly as milk was splattered all over her pyjamas.
------------------------------------------
Deception, later that morning:
Carly was only five minutes late.
She probably meant to be late just to spite me, thought Alexis, but I guess her heart wasn’t in it.
Laura clucked her tongue in disapproval, reminding the lawyer of a gigantic pink hen.
Alexis simply raised her head from the documents she was impromptu translating from French since there was no way Laura would simply trust her and sign on the dotted line. Damn Vichy fro not sending a copy of the contract in English and damn herself for not noticing the blasted thing was in French yesterday.
“Hello, Carly,” Alexis said politely. “We’re going over the contracts Vichy sent over.”
“Who?”
“The French cosmetics company,” Laura interjected impatiently. “I told you about them the other day.”
Carly went to hang her coat. “No you didn’t.”
“Of course I did! It’s bad enough you hardly ever bother to show up for work would you at least listen when you’re here?”
Carly smirked. “Take it easy, Auntie Laura. I told you I had to take Mikey to his doctor this morning. She turned to Alexis. “What’s this about?”
Alexis sighed. “Vichy, one of the largest cosmetics companies in Europe, is interested in making “Deception” their sole representative in the larger New York area. Their products are medium-priced and of fairly good quality.”
“So, you think we should do it?” Carly asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m going through the contract with your partner here.”
“Why? Can’t she simply read it?”
“It’s in French,” Laura clarified with a huff.
“Well, can’t you give us the gist of it?” Carly asked Alexis.
Alexis sighed. She raised the ten page document. “That’s what I was planning to do so I would finish sometime this century.”
Anger flashed in Laura’s eyes. She opened her mouth to protest then closed it again, obviously outnumbered. “Fine, where do I sign?” she mumbled.
Alexis’ eyes met Carly’s in a “how do you stand her” mental communication. Carly quickly averted her gaze, shrugging off the moment of understanding.
The lawyer coolly assessed the young blonde. Every hair was in place and her makeup brought out her features without adding more years than necessary to her age. She was in a finely tailored black suit, the skirt a little more on the look at my legs rather than my strategy side yet tasteful. She was definitely calmer than the last time they had met. Alexis unconsciously felt her cheek at the thought.
She was checking to make sure that she really was quite finished with Deception for a while, a fact that called for a glass of champagne that night, as the two women got into a mild argument.
From what Alexis could catch it was on whether it would be a good idea to launch another Face of Deception campaign. Carly had a rather good point about the previous Faces meeting with untimely deaths, which was not how she had worded it of course. Alexis smiled despite herself. There was a raw energy in Carly that unfortunately appeared to have been channelled in plotting and scheming – not bad pastimes in their own right but Spencers had a unique way of screwing up – and currently the pursuit of Sonny Corinthos’ happiness. It really was a shame.
No, definitely not a match made in Heaven, she thought checking the look of horror in Laura’s face at Carly’s mention of the last Face of Deception having driven off a cliff.
She stifled a chuckle then gave out a heavy sigh. They don’t even have anyone at reception yet and already they’re planning costly ad campaigns. Hell, they hardly even know what their products are.
Leave it. It’s not your business. Escape the insanity while you can.
She bid her goodbyes and left for her meeting with Zander.
It was dark outside when she got home. She’d managed to calm down Zander a little. He’d noted that she looked better and she’d accepted the compliment graciously.
At home she allowed herself to doubt her ability to save Zander’s life. She shivered violently at the thought and stepped in the shower to wash it away along with her weariness.
She went to get the phone wrapped in a thick bathrobe but there was no one on the line. Since yesterday it had to be the tenth time this had happened. Luke apparently did not know she had caller-ID.
-----------------------------------
Stefan rubbed on his chin thoughtfully as he read his men’s report on Nikolas. It bothered him that the young man had not confided in him about seeing Dr. Collins. He wondered whether that was also the case with Alexis. She had said to him that he could approach her with anything concerning Nikolas.
He stared at the phone sadly. His heartbeat would no longer quicken when it rang. Four days were enough for him to realize that his embarrassing phone call to Alexis had not softened her enough to return it. The shearing pain that had followed her… banishment… there was no other way to call it… had quietened down to a dull ache. A wound that wasn’t quite healed but at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.
Unless he scratched the scabs. He would not do it tonight. For once he decided not to play the film of her graduation party. He locked it along with the photo albums of sun-filled memories from the island, grey skies from England and the rest of Central and Northern Europe from school holidays that they had gotten to spend together. A parade of moments, smiling Alexis and the Eiffel Tower, smiling Alexis and the Brademburg Gate, smiling Alexis and Mozart… (or was it Strauss? ) some statue in Vienna…
Some pictures featured frowning Stefan who hated having his picture taken and nagged Alexis about shutter speed and focus and not dropping the camera
And few, very few, featured smiling Alexis and Stefan taken by elderly tourists or locals with benevolent smiles wanting to snap a picture of the attractive young couple. And blushing Alexis would stop clearing the misconception after a while and would hold her beloved cousin close.
Those pictures were the worst. Those pictures were the main reason that Stefan had decided to toss the albums in a cabinet and lock it. He stared at the key wondering where he should keep it. Not somewhere where it would tempt him all the time, nor hidden so well that he would not be able to find it ever again.
Mrs Lansbury’s crisp tones interrupted his thoughts.
“Excuse me, sir...”
He looked up.
“I was notified from the shore that a Miss Campbell is requesting to see you.”
He threw the key in one of his desk drawers – so much for keeping it out of sight – and told Mrs Lansbury that he would see the young woman.
Once Gia was there neither of them wasted much time in social pleasantries. Stefan’s cool green gaze swept her from head to toe. Her attire was somewhat eccentric yet it brought out her lanky figure and undoubtedly suited her age. The hair was a disappointment, a face as lovely as hers was not complimented by what looked like a dark brown mop.
“What brings you here, Miss Campbell?”
“Please, call me Gia.”
“Gia,” Stefan amended, curling his lip in distaste. He knew that that was the girl’s given name as well as he knew that she had been born out of wedlock by an obnoxious woman with a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas. He’d had the misfortune of meeting Florence Campbell at the hospital. The fact that she had not given him that annoying consideration he had been getting from others as a result of Chloe’s death had been a welcome change. After less than half an hour with the woman he’d had not difficulty understanding why Lucas Taggert had disappeared off the face of the Earth sometime in the early seventies. By the end of his little talk with her, which couldn’t have lasted more than an hour, he’d developed a strong headache and a baffling compassion for Detective Taggert and his young half sister.
Who was staring at him expectedly as though it was up to him to say what had brought her to Wydenmere.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well?”
Gia jutted her chin. “I’m here to see Nikolas.”
“And what made you think he’d be here?”
The fact that he said “I’m going to my Uncle’s for dinner,” thought Gia.
Aloud she gave a little laugh, as fake as the tattoo on her shoulder. “We managed to miss each other and his mobile is switched off… I thought he might be here.”
“And you took the trouble of coming all the way here because you thought you might find Nikolas?”
Save face. So he lied to you. So what. Stay cool. She bit on her lip. No tears, do you hear? It will pass.
“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” she said edgily.
The green eyes dissected her. A commendable performance, thought Stefan. He smiled. “Since you came anyway, would you care to join me for dinner? That is, unless you’re planning on searching the whole of Port Charles for my nephew.”
She shot him an angry glare but quickly caught herself. She wasn’t going to become the source of any further amusement for him. “No thank you I’ll –
Go home and try to find a quiet corner to cry in. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER GIRL!
“I’ll be alright,” she said regally and turned her back to her host. “I’d like to leave if the launch is ready.” She cursed her voice for faltering. Why did Stefan Cassadine have to live on an island? How can you make a dignified exit when you depend on the man’s stinking launch?
Stefan took in her rigid posture. “Is there something wrong with my nephew, Miss Campbell?”
She did not invite him to call her Gia again. Something wrong? Well he did briefly turn into Hannibal Lector after dinner here the other night, she thought, does this qualify as something wrong?
“What makes you say that?” she said neutrally, not turning around.
“He lied to you, did he not? And knowing Nikolas, he would not lie unless he had a serious reason, something beyond seeing another young woman perhaps…”
She spun around to face him, anger gleaming in her eyes. “If you know him that well, you should know whether there’s something wrong,” she hissed.
He closed the distance between them and got a hold of her chin. She met his eyes defiantly but he had already caught a flicker of fear.
From up close, so young. Almost a child.
“I do not think you understand the gravity of this situation,” he said softly. “Nikolas has had to deal with a dark and heavy legacy. You cannot fathom the kind of danger most of my family poses for him. My mother would stop at nothing to control him. There are Cassadine cousins who would not hesitate to murder him and divide his fortune. And then there’s Luke Spencer who is a constant threat to him…” He read disbelief in the brown eyes. “I may seem paranoid to you but you need to know that there is more than his title and the fortune he stands to inherit.”
Gia pulled back from him. “Is that how you see me? As a little gold-digger? I love Nikolas for the person that he is! Go easy on the melodrama, she told herself. The fact that he’s filthy rich has never been exactly against him.
Stefan snorted. “You misunderstood me. Your motives for being with Nikolas do not concern me. The only thing that concerns me is his well-being. For that I must ask you to tell me whether you’ve noticed anything… amiss with his behaviour.”
“You’ll have to ask him whether there’s anything wrong. He seems fine to me.” She lied obstinately. “Am I dismissed now, sir?”
“Let me show you out.”
She backed away from him. “No, thank you. I remember the way.”
“Feel free to visit me again,” he said as though he and the dark girl had spent an evening engaged in friendly conversation.
“This place is so much fun you bet I will.”
In the launch she felt a little pang of conscience for lying to that… that…arrogant prick! She rubbed on her forehead. What the man had said had not really sunk in. She’d heard a bit about the Cassadines from Lucky but this? She took in a deep breath unable to shake a feeling of unreality.
Stefan made a phone call which fully convinced him that Gia Campbell did not know that Nikolas had been seeing Dr. Collins. Could this little lie break things up between his nephew and the undesirable young woman without him having to do anything? He could not be cheered at the thought since worry for the reasons Nikolas was seeing a psychiatrist took precedence in Stefan’s mind.
It could be something relatively innocent, he thought. Those Americans, they run to therapists for the simplest thing. Perhaps it is a delayed reaction to my death. Still worry gnawed at him. He knew Nikolas. He wasn’t weak. He’d suffered serious blows since they’d moved to Port Charles but he had managed. Why now? Why had Miss Campbell lied to him?
You weren’t exactly nice to her. He took a deep breath. Besides that.
He closed his eyes and there was Stavros with his irrational fits of anger. Had it been just the alcohol as he had liked to think? He waved the ghost away, rambling Stavros, screaming Stavros, violent Stavros… he was gone. He was dead. The boy was his, there was no doubt anymore but that didn’t mean… Americans went to psychiatrists at the drop of a hat. And much to Stefan’s dismay, Nikolas’ contact with Laura and her children and all these years he’d spent here had turned his nephew into one of them.