Chapter 3 - Sasha
Chapter three
Wiping tears from my eyes, I pull a one-hundred-dollar bill from my pocket to hand Ledger as he smirks.
“Happy doing business with you,” he says, taking my money and patting me on the back. “I knew you wouldn’t make it. You love her too much.”
“You didn’t cry, and he’s your brother!” I reply, feeling somewhat less manly as I use his monogrammed handkerchief to dry my tears.
He sighs. “He’s my brother, but we didn’t grow up as close as you and Kat. When Jack and Margot finally do this, I’m sure I’ll be giving you your money back.”
“Two of them, so double or nothing?”
“You’re on,” he says, winking at me as he moves on to mingle among the other family members here today.
I haven’t attended many weddings, but I didn’t expect my KitKat’s vow renewal to affect me as much as it did today.
She’s always been as close to me as a sister, rather than a cousin, and finding out a few months ago that we share a father felt like confirmation of a truth we’ve long felt in our souls.
When she joined the Sinclair family to fulfill our grandfather’s scheme from the past, I was worried about her, even after meeting her husband, Henry, and having a hunch that they would be a good fit.
I never could have dreamed that they would fall so madly in love and be so happy.
It gives me peace to know she’s safe and well cared for.
“She was radiant today.”
My father joins me, sipping his own champagne and watching the Sinclairs fuss over all their newborns. Between Margot and Jack’s twins and Ledger and Sloane’s second baby, something has to be in the water around here. I’ll stick to champagne.
“I’m glad the two of you have been spending more time together. It killed me to keep your secret, you know,” I say, grabbing another appetizer from a tray being carried by a server.
“Yes,” he agrees, “it’s been wonderful to see her more. Although I suspect she’ll be quite busy with her husband from now on.”
We stand in companionable silence before he speaks again.
“I want you to know that I have no expectations from you over the next few years. You can stay here to be close to Kat if you want, or you can travel. Certainly, from my perspective, there’s no need for you to rush into anything like a marriage or—”
He’s cut off as champagne sprays out of my nose, burning my sinuses and causing me to choke and gasp for air. He slaps me on the back as I try to recover, waving off concerned staff and ignoring snickering from Ledger and Jack.
“I don’t think you have anything like that to worry about from my end, Dad.
No marriage plans for me. You know how I feel about bringing someone else into the business,” I say firmly, once I’ve finished choking.
And he does know. I deflected his questions about serious girlfriends long enough, then finally told him exactly how I feel.
I don’t want to get married. It’s not fair to any wife that I might have to bring her and children into the dangerous position ahead of me.
Even if I hopefully have a number of years before I have to take over for Dad.
Just because I’m not running things now doesn’t mean I don’t have my special projects and tasks, though.
And there’s one motherfucker in particular who I haven’t been able to lay my hands on and eliminate.
Lawrence. He’s been kicking up more dust lately and causing more problems, and he’s been on my short list of men to silence.
If only I could catch the slippery bastard.
Dad gives me a loaded look and opens his mouth to continue our conversation, but I’m saved by Margot approaching with two newborns strapped to her chest.
“Ivan, I don’t think you’ve met these two new Sinclairs yet. This one’s MJ, and this one’s JJ…”
I’ve met both babies already, neither of whom seemed impressed by me based on the wails I caused, so I sneak off and let my dad coo to his heart’s content.
I don’t make it far before I hear my name.
“Sasha! Darling, I’ve been trying to get a moment to chat with you all day. How are you?” Blanche squeezes me in a tight hug before pulling back to assess me with her keen gaze. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, or what she finds.
“I’ve been all right. A little bit of this and that. It certainly isn’t the same working at the club without you there. I can’t say that I think I’ll stay for much longer,” I say honestly. “Have you been enjoying being a full-time grandma?”
She smiles but rolls her eyes. “I’ve been loving every minute of it, but I think after a month of being on duty 24/7, I’m ready for a little break. Actually, I have a pet project I’m working on, although it’s been a mess trying to get the ball rolling on it.”
A pet project for Blanche could be any number of things, ranging from reasonable to terrifying. I’m scared but curious. Before I can ask, she’s already explaining.
“You see, I’ve dreamed for years of filming my love story with my husband, and something has just been telling me this is the right time to do it. I have a crew all sorted out. Lighting, sound, everyone! You know I have that space at my house everyone thinks is so scary.”
“The dungeon?” I ask. And it is scary. I’m not sure if it used to be a cellar, basement, or torture chamber, but it’s annexed to Blanche’s house. Although it’s finished and clean, it gives the whole family the creeps.
She rolls her eyes again. “Yes, the dungeon. It was a storm shelter! I don’t know why nobody believes me.
It was just a big storm shelter meant to hold a whole neighborhood of people, and now with new drywall and better ventilation, it’s just a big party room!
But anyway, I have it all set up as a film set, and it’s just going to be perfect. I just don’t have a cast.”
“A minor detail,” I tease.
“Well, it’s not easy! I only need two people.
Myself and my husband. But I have no plans to release this film commercially, or to ever have anyone see the finished product.
It’s my magnum opus, not for public consumption.
For me. So any actor or actress worth their salt won’t want to take months out of their lives to live in my guesthouse just for my personal project.
They won’t get residuals or have anything recognizable for their résumé, and I want them immersed in life with their co-star, a good forced-proximity bonding experience, you know. ” She sighs.
“Only you would produce a full-scale production for your eyes only,” I say, and she smiles.
“Well, I am one of a kind, darling. And it is a full-scale production, but also intimate and avant-garde, just like everything I do, of course.” She sighs.
“I just have to find my Blanche and Henry. If you run across any performers at Rendezvous with exceptional acting skills, please send them my way!”
She sees my dad trying to get one of Margot’s babies back into the wrap and struggling, and heads over to help. She only takes a few steps before she turns her head over her shoulder and calls back to me.
“You’d be perfect, actually. You remind me of my Henry!”
I’ve seen pictures of her husband, and I look nothing like him.
“I don’t look like your husband, Blanche.”
She cackles before continuing on to help Dad. “No, you don’t, dear. But you favor him in the one big way that counts!”
Jesus Christ.
“I’m scared to ask what you and Blanche were talking about.”
Turning to see my sister, I smile. She’s radiant in her simple wedding gown, and I can’t help but pick her up and twirl her around.
“You really don’t want to know. Congratulations, KitKat. The ceremony was beautiful. Was it everything you wanted?”
She leans into my side as I kiss her forehead.
“It was perfect. Way better than the first time around.”
I wince, remembering the cupcake monstrosity of a gown that she was forced into for her initial wedding to Henry, when they were strangers and not yet in love. It’s wild to think that it’s been six months. Our lives have changed drastically since then.
“I’m glad,” I say, unhanding her as Henry arrives to take her from me. “I’m planning to stick around, I think. Ivan’s fine with me staying away from home for a bit longer.”
That earns me a blinding smile that she returns.
“Yay! I know we’ll be traveling soon for our honeymoon, but I hope that means I’ll get to see you more. I’ve missed you.”
“She will be very busy performing her wifely duties in various countries in the near future,” Henry interjects as Kat rolls her eyes. “But once we’re back, we’d love to have you over. Maybe you could come stay with her during any busy weeks I have?”
“I’d love that,” I say. And I would. Kat and I may have spent less time together in the years since she turned sixteen, but we still saw each other most days. And before that, we were raised practically as twins. I miss my sister.
After exchanging our goodbyes, with the party winding down, I find my opportunity to make my exit.
Not that I don’t enjoy the Sinclairs, but all of them together, with all the babies, is a lot of stimulation.
I take the long way back to my apartment in the city, texting Brad to let him know I won’t be at the club tonight.
He’s gotten way too dependent on me to solve the little issues that have been popping up since he’s taken over, and he needs to fully step into Blanche’s shoes if he’s going to make it in this line of work.
I’m still shaking my head, thinking about Blanche’s production plans when I arrive at my apartment to see a notice on the door.
Reading it compounds the annoyance I felt building while thinking about Brad’s management of the club.
Apparently, this building has been purchased by a billionaire corporation based overseas.
They want to make it a home base for their workers when they’re in the city and need to start renovations next week.
“You are required to vacate the premises by no later than ten o’clock on the morning of…”
Fuck me. Two days from now? There’s no way that’s legal.
Sighing, I throw my keys down on the table in my entryway and look around at my home.
It’s not much. Beautiful views and high-end appliances in a kitchen I don’t use.
Luxury mattress set on the floor because I never bothered to have a bed frame delivered.
Everything about this place screams bachelor pad.
Because that’s what it is, Sasha. You’re a bachelor, and this is your pad.
Maybe this is a sign it’s time to head home. Dad said I could travel or stay close to Kat, not that I have to. I could go back home, get back into the swing of things with the business, and consider settling down.
The nausea in my gut at that sequence of events doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know when my home and birthright started giving me anxiety. At least a few years ago, at this point. Raking my hand through my hair, I go to shower the day away, but see a text pop up on my phone.
Blanche:
Any good prospects at the club tonight?
I start typing to tell her that I’m not there, but I stop.
Living in her guesthouse, she said. And I remind her of her husband, even if it’s a salacious resemblance.
It’s easier than trying to find another suitable apartment on short notice, and maybe trying to be an actor for a bit would be exactly the reset I need.
Another option that keeps me closer to Kat and away from home, but not the monotony of the club.
Before I can second-guess myself, I text Blanche back.
Me:
Not at the club. But if the offer still stands, I’ll be your Henry.
Her only response is the smiling devil emoji, and I wonder exactly what I’ve gotten myself into.