“There you are.” He smiled as Cassy reached to straightened his bow tie. She noticed the sleeves of his shirt were worned out, and when he put an arm around her, she smelled just the slightest hint of body odour. Poor boy, she knew he had been dreading this party a little. He wasn’t good with crowds.
"It was an advantage!" I said half-shouting. My response was instinctive. Bran looked up and saw that Cassy was smiling at her sister, Ingrid who was standing with a group of young ladies from the town. Though bonded by blood, both sisters are so different in every way possible. Ingrid has always been prime and proper while Cassy would act first before thinking. Maybe that’s why he fell hard for her the first time they met at the gallery.
Bran still remembered the first time they went on a date, one he would never forget. Being as spontaneous as she was, she had made reservation at The Bubble, a French restaurant just outside town. Late was an understatement for Cassy. She got there about five minutes faster than the speed limit allowed in her old beetle car of hers, one that Bran had promised to himself that he would replace it once they were engaged. That old automobile should not be allowed on the streets, what more driven by the women that he loved.
She walked into the restaurant, dressed in a red velvet knee length tight body hugging dress with the blue headband; holding on to her messy curly hair which was flying all over. The curls fall down nicely over her bodily curves and when she move her body, it seemed that every part of her moved in sync. There was nothing that could pull Bran’s eyes away from Cassy. It seemed to have locked itself on every move Cassy made. The air was so thick and it was getting hard to breath.
And from that moment, Bran knew that Cassy was the one for him. There would be no other that could affect him so; emotionally, physically, intellectually and most of all, he part knew that she was from THE FAMILY!
There he was again. The problem. Not Bran, not the sweet man she had pledged to love forever - he had been stolen away by the crowd and was now in the middle of chatting up her mother. His dark head was bent over Joanna's white one, the two of them looking like the best of friends.
No. He was not the problem at all.
The problem was the boy staring at her from across the room and from all the way down the length of the great hall. Cassy could feel his eyes on her, like a physical caress. Frankie Bushman. Bran's younger brother, twenty-four years old, and looking at her as if she were on sale to the highest bidder and he was more than willing to pay the price.
Read previous post to understand more about Ingrid, the Witch.