WANT (completed)

ch. 38 | Coffee Stains

CASSSNDRA'S POV

I smooth my hands over my cream colored tweed dress. It's not something I would have chosen to wear today, but it's the only thing appropriate for the board meeting that Zac had brought from my apartment. I have it paired with the matching cream blazer that covers the thin straps of the dress, even left unbuttoned like I have. I don't have anything else on except for my necklace with a single pearl on it, simply because I always have it on.

Running my fingers through my curled hair, I purse my lips together as I step out of the bathroom and into Zac's room. He's adjusting his tie, just as he was before I left to get ready in the bathroom.

"Are you ready yet? No wonder you're always late, Cassandra. First, you wake up way too late and then take your time getting—" Zac freezes, staring at me through the reflection of his giant mirror. "Holy fuck, you look just like mom," he beams, pivoting on his dress shoe clad feet and turning to face me.

He's right. This was my mom's favorite business suit that I took from her closet after she passed away. I've never worn it, but it first perfectly and I have to say, her fashion sense was always top-notch. I give him a small smile, but I'm a bit hesitant considering we never really talk about her much.

"Thanks. I hope you brought me some heels that match?" I ask, realizing that I didn't ask him to bring me any shoes. I definitely couldn't walk into the meeting wearing my sneakers, that's for sure.

"Oh right, let me grab them," Zac says as he steps out of the room and I follow suit. I go straight to the kitchen as he disappears into his living room. Zac doesn't like much space — he says it's too much space to clean and causes clutter, hence why he has a single bedroom penthouse, although it's much more expensive than my apartment. I'm sure it's because of the ridiculous amenities. Who needs a personal chef service and an on-call dog walker? I would love the personal chef, but really, why get a dog if you can't walk it?

I grab a mug from one of the cabinets, about to make myself a coffee when Zac yells at me upon entering the kitchen. "No way, you can get coffee at the office. We have got to go," he snaps, holding up my heels.

I frown a bit, putting the coffee mug away and then looking at the shoes he's holding up. They're the black jimmy choo's that Asa had sent me when he first asked me out on a date. Talk about irony. I'm already anxious enough about seeing him at the meeting today, and now I have to wear those?

"Com'n. Stop staring and let's go," Zac approaches me and hands me the shoes, and although I take them in my hand, I don't move to put them on.

I've kept myself busy all weekend — proposals for the board, reading a romantic suspense novel, and adjusting some of the books for the accounting team. I did all that work so I didn't have to think about Asa, and here I am, staring at some heels that remind me of him, feeling sick to my stomach.

"What's wrong?" Zac asks, turning to face me from where he's now standing at the front door. He's right about ready to leave, and I don't blame him considering we can't be late.

"Hm?" I snap out of my daze as I look at him, and then back to the heels in my hand. "Sorry, it's just that...Asa got these for me," I mutter before I bend down and place them on the floor, slipping my cold feet into them — literally and metaphorically. I didn't realize until now how nervous I was for the meeting, about seeing him.

Zac is looking at me sympathetically as I walk to him, grabbing my binder and then my bag. It hadn't moved since I came here on Friday night because I've been holed up in here since I came. "I didn't realize. Are you going to be okay? You look sick," he hesitates before speaking, looking uncomfortable as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, glancing at me standing next to him.