Author's Notes: I really wasn't planning to cover this, but I've received threats of bodily harm if I don't (not really). I was working on the next story so this is more of a P&P 1.5 (an interlude if you will). However, it helps introduce the villain for the next story, so it's not entirely without merit. Enjoy.

Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised. - David Waitley

From the Journal of Sasha Petrovitch:

May 21, 2011

If I were to die today I think I would die the happiest girl in the world. The Prom was like something out of a storybook. I spent most of the day at the SI salon being pampered by Sandra, Jules, and Mimi. I wouldn't trade those girls for any others in the world.

With Sandra's advice since school began, my hair has probably grown about five inches. It was the exact length I needed for the design she and I agreed on for the Prom.

Jules has had me on a skincare regime for so long. Well, you're already read tons of my previous entries with me bitching about how annoying it is to keep up with, but the end result was worth it. My skin has never felt so soft and smooth. Max can't keep her hands off me. Not that I mind.

And lastly Mimi, dear Mimi. I've given her fits with my makeup. We can probably sit half the day and argue over styles. She's taught me so much, and I've challenged her so much that she's all but made me her partner in crime when it comes to problem cases. Just last week she set me an emergency text with an attached photo. It was one of the executives on the twentieth floor of SI. Some 'power women' think they know all about everything. Some things you leave in the hands of professionals. The woman was a fashion and makeup nightmare out of the office and argued with Mimi about every little choice she made of the woman's own good.

I showed up, 'on a whim,' to calm the exec's nerves and back up Mimi's know-how with my own opinions. Seeing as how I'm Maxwell Slade's future daughter-in-law and I'm often seen around the building, the exec listened and let Mimi do her work.

What am I talking about? You don't want to hear about makeup. The Prom!

Max picked me up at Mama and Papa's house.

(I can't believe I wrote that. I spend so much time over at the Slade's that I've come to think of that as home now. Well, it's not that it won't be, but still. I feel guilty. Perhaps I should do something nice for Mama and Papa. Just us three.)

The limo wasn't a limo, but one of those old fashion Bentley cars, like back from the twenties or forties. We went to dinner at André's. I was so nervous about everything that I could barely eat a bite. Max was so handsome in her tuxedo, with her hair slicked back. She made me feel like a princess the entire evening.

The dance was, dare I say, magical. I didn't care in the least that my knees were aching at the end of the evening if it meant I could be in her arms for one more song.

The strangest part of the night was when some of the other girls brought me their Memory Books to sign. While I'm sure you are tired of reading about how I was never really accepted by the students at school, I had to admit that I was the one that caused the most drama, thus I became a memorable event in their lives. Don't worry, I was gracious as Mama taught me to be, and I signed something positive. If they took away anything worthwhile from my experience then I considered it a good thing. People don't learn enough life lessons in school.

So, are you ready to hear about the hotel after the prom?

Max reserved the Spindletop room at the Hyatt. Sitting atop the fifty-first floor of the luxury hotel downtown, we could see the entire city and beyond. I was exhausted from the dance, but the excitement of what I knew Max had in store for me made it all worth experiencing.

Warm lighting set the mood. Strawberries and Champagne were waiting for us, complements of Daddy Slade. It isn't often that a father is complicit in the devirgining of his daughter, but we were both daughters in his eyes, not to mention that we were already married in his eyes as well.

My dress never made it past the entryway, neither did Max's tux. She treated me every bit the lady over the evening and now she was going to receive her reward for waiting all year for me. Holding to my vow of chastity was more than difficult at times, but I think it was worth it in several different ways.

When we were spent after the first time in bed, Max held me and cried. I mean it! She never cries, but she did with me after we'd made the most sweetest and awkward love. That, of course, sent me over the edge and I accompanied her in her happiness.

There's no doubt, and hasn't really been since we have been together, that she is Dusho moja, my soul. And I showed her exactly how much she meant to me, over and over last night.

End Journal entry May 21, 2011.

"Making sure to record all of the sordid details?" I heard over my shoulder.

I capped the Mont Blanc and set it inside its pouch before spinning around at my desk. Max stood there, leaning against the doorframe, in her black slacks and royal blue silk shirt, smirking at me. "Of course, Dusho moja. I don't ever want to forget last night."

She crossed the room as I stood and set the pouch in my purse. "You look beautiful today."

I grinned up at her as she took me into her arms. "You've said that already at least five times this morning. Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Her kiss was just as electric as every single one from last night. Since we'd made love, something changed in Max. It was like it was firmly cemented in her mind that I was hers and no force on Earth could take me away. No matter where we were at, there was always some portion of he body that touched mine. A hand, a finger, her leg against mine. I found that I was almost addicted to having her touch me and vice versa.

"I love you."

"Mmm." I snuggled under her chin. "I love you too."

The only thing I wanted to do was sigh in contentment.

"What do you want to do today? You name it and…"

I pulled away, but stayed in her arms. "Max, you know I have to go in to the office today."

Her face crumbled. "It's Saturday, and Prom was just last night. I'm sure Mrs. Cusco won't mind if you take the day off."

Reaching my hand up to cup her jaw and slide my fingers to her chin, I gave her a look of regret but stern resolution. "She was nice enough to give me the morning off considering she knew you were going to keep me up all night ravaging my body."

Max grinned really silly.

"That means I have to work extra hard this afternoon to make up for it."

She rolled her eyes at that. "This internship of yours was the worst idea Dad's ever had."

Smacking her chest lightly I gave her a little glare. "You know I want to pay my own way, Max. And you yourself wanted me to be the Princess Diana of Slade Investments. How else am I suppose to learn?"

Her head lolled back. "I know. It was the worst idea I've ever had as well."

With a smile I stepped back. "Do I look okay?"

"Okay? You're gorgeous. I don't think you could ever look bad."

Do you see why I love Max so much? "I'm talking about the new suit. It's not too masculine, is it?"

Rose colored cotton blouse, charcoal grey man-vest with matching knee skirt and rose colored three inch court shoes.

"I think that if anyone thought you were in any way masculine then they'd need to have their head examined. Put the jacket on, let me see the whole thing."

I retrieved the matching jacket and max was right behind me to help slide it up my arms. She's so thoughtful sometimes that I just want to kiss her. When she worked her way around front again she adjusted my collar. "We're not going to a disco. Let me get a pin."

She pinned my collar. That's what I needed. I knew something was off but I could figure out what. "Thank you."

Max looked at my left hand. "Good you have your promise ring on. I don't want any men or women getting any ideas. You're mine."

Did I tell you how much Max being possessive turns me on?

I flashed her great-great-great-great grandmother's ring at her. "I'm all yours." That's when I saw my watch and what time it was. "I gotta go or I'm going to be late."

Max escorted me out. It wasn't needed anymore. I'd grown quite agile wearing heels of almost any height over the last nine months, but I still felt very feminine when I was on my lover's arm and she was ever the gentleman.

Scarlett was waiting out front, gleaming like she was off the factory room floor. At the drivers side door, I gave Max a kiss. "I'm going over to see Mama tonight for dinner."

I could see the hurt in her eyes, but she understood that we weren't married yet and I still had family obligations. "Okay. I'm supposed to talk to Dad about college." She rolled her eyes. "So, I'll be in seclusion half the day anyway."

Another kiss and I brushed a bit of lipstick from underneath her bottom lip. "Try to have a good day, Dusho moja."

Another thing I've mastered is the art of driving in heels. However things are so much easier driving Scarlett. She responds to my every touch like we were meant to be together. I wanted to let the top down but it would destroy my hair and I had to work. I did ponder going out to the country with Max the next day and opening her up on the empty roads. There's something about pressing that little button by the gearshift and putting the transmission in Racecar mode, then letting loose. It's quite freeing.

When I pulled into my assigned parking space with ten minutes to spare I eased down off of my driving high, grabbed my purse and strode up to the front door.

"Morning boys," I said to the two security men standing sentinel behind their counter.

"Good morning, Miss Petrovitch. New suit?" the taller of the two replied.

I grinned. It was almost always a new suit. It's one of the annoyances of being a Slade. We were expected to be the height of fashion at all times when representing the family. That meant wasting a lot of time, money, and patience in trying to do so. "Yes. It's sweet of you to notice, Stephen."

Yeah, um, I know their names. It's hard not to acknowledge people. I feel so bad when I don't remember everyone's name, so I take the time to talk to almost everyone I meet so as to reinforce their face to their job, to their family, to their name. I swear, before I'd entered womanhood, the only people I had to remember were my teachers, and parents.

I didn't have any friends. Now everyone wanted to be my friend. Rather, I should say, everyone wanted to be Maxwell Slade's future daughter-in-law's friend. It was something that I'd come to grips with around Christmas time. Cards and presents from people I'd only met once at Fallen Oaks Country Club were sending me gifts and well wishes for the coming year.

That's also when I'd learned that certain things were expected of me as well… like thank you cards. Gah! The hand cramps I had were nightmarish. One hundred and seventy-three thank you cards, all with small personal messages were sent out by me.

Max and Daddy Slade offered to hire an assistant for me, but since it was my first Christmas with my future family I insisted on doing everything myself. That was really bad idea.

"How are Susan and Marie?" I asked Stephen. The families of everyone I'd met were even harder to remember, but I studied and Daddy Slade's cell phone index of all the employees was a big help.

"They're great, Miss Petrovitch. Thanks for asking."

Dennis, the other security guard was single, so I just finger waved at him. "Hi Dennis."

He grinned, embarrassed. "Morning ma'am."

"Stephen, give the girls my love. I'm off to the salt mines."

Palming my security card I made my way to the private elevator and punched the third floor, where I worked. I'll say one thing about going out of your way to talk to people and let them know you actually cared about them. It was like lighting a match in your heart. For the most part, people liked to be noticed. They like that a pretty girl thinks that they are worth the effort to talk to. Each time I see their smiles when I acknowledge them, it's like lighting another match. Pretty soon my heart shines and it shows in what I do.

Sorry, I don't want you to think that I'm all stuck up in the way I look. I admit I'm pretty. Max always dotes on me about how hot I am or how gorgeous I look in certain outfits, but I'm realistic. I'm short. Hot women aren't short. I have virtually no butt. Hot women have cute bubble butts. The heels I wear help out in that regard, making me push it out a little more when I stand, but there's only so much one can do with so little.

I suppose that's how genetic women feel at times. Very few people are perfect. Hold on… they make butt implants don't they?

"Right on time, Sasha."

Glancing at my watch, I notice it's twelve noon, on the dot. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Cusco," I said as I set my purse on my desk. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Mrs. Jeanine Cusco was the Senior Vice President in charge of the charitable arm of Slade Investments. I was her protégé, as she would call me. Since I didn't get paid, I called myself an intern. Mrs. Cusco let Daddy Slade know that she would be retiring by this time next year at the tender age of sixty-five. If things went well, then I would be taking her place, not as a VP but Head of Department.

Needless to say, I was intimidated. With no managerial experience, and no college, I wasn't qualified to take her position. That's why I was in the office on a Saturday afternoon. To learn everything I could about what she did. Every school holiday, teacher in-service day, and sometimes after school I would be at her side doing my best not to let my future family down. It was a given that a lot of people would like to see me fail. Pretty much everyone at my high school, all the guys that had ever hit on Max, virtually anyone that has a problem with crossdressers would love to see me fail. The problem was that I confused them as well and that gave me the advantage.

After setting a folder on my desk, she grinned that evil old-lady grin of hers. "This one is all yours."

I looked at her curiously and opened the folder. Sick kids. Oh God. SI helped many organizations, Red Cross, Heart Association, you name it and I could deal with it just fine. But when it came to sick kids it kind of hit a little too close to home.

I swallowed and looked up to Mrs. Cusco.

"This is the one you cut your teeth on, Sasha. I want you to go down and tour the center. They're expecting you in forty minutes. Remember what I've taught you about being observant. Watch how they treat those around you." I nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you have any questions?"

I swallowed and shook my head, slightly.

After looking at me for a moment, she sat down in front of my desk. "I know this is your weakness. That's why I'm assigning it to you. Learn from the experience."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You better get going."

Steeling my nerves I shouldered my purse and picked up the file.

The Hammerton House was simple in its purpose. It was a hospice for terminally ill children. They would make any patients as comfortable as possible, usually with the use of heavy drugs until they passed. As a secondary mission they would do what they could to make a single final desire of their's come true. It was kind of like Make-a-Wish, but exclusively for children ages fifteen and younger.

Hammerton House was located in the country, not too far away from the outskirts of the city. The facilities, from the outside were beautiful. Dozens of live oaks littered the grounds with a perfectly manicured lawn where I could see a number of children milling about, playing board games, or simple talking to each other. Nurses and other aides were close by. I'd never seen so many wheelchairs in my life.

The outside temperature was a perfect seventy-five degrees and there was a light breeze blowing when I stepped out of Scarlett.

I received a few looks, mostly from the adults, but a few from the children. One little blonde girl waved at me from her chair. A blanket was covering her legs, but other than that I couldn't see a thing wrong with her. I grinned and waved back, but continued up the walkway.

If they were like every other place that I'd visited with Mrs. Cusco then I already knew they wouldn't want me near the patients without going through proper procedures.

"Sasha Petrovitch from Slade Investments. I have a twelve-forty five with your director," I told the receptionist.

She brightened as if expecting me. "Of course Miss Petrovitch. If you'd like to follow me."

We walked down a carpeted hallway to the right of the desk which looked like the administrative wing of the building. The smell of antiseptic and hospital cleaning supplies was still strong, even in the closed in offices.

"May I get you anything to drink before you start your tour?"

"No, thank you." The truth was that I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold anything down as upset as my stomach was at the moment.

She knocked on the outer door to the Director's office and then opened it. "Dr. Barrett, Miss Petrovitch from Slade Investments."

Dr. Barrett was in his mid-forties, just starting to gray a little at his temples, he struck the perfect picture of a kindly pediatrician. All he was missing was the lab coat and stethoscope.

He looked a little confused at first, but he stood and smiled welcomingly. "Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule Miss Petrovitch. Sorry to seem out of sorts, Jeanine led me to believe you were much older. It's not often I see someone so young dealing with the things so morbid."

"Sasha, please, Doctor."

He grinned and held out his hand for a shake. "Then you must call me Andrew. Can I have Jennifer bring you a beverage?"

I shook my head while I looked around. "No, thank you."

He nodded. "Well then, let's get right to work."

We spent most of an hour going over Hammerton House's books, that I was truthfully just beginning to understand. While the hospice takes in federal, state, and local money for certain things, its bread and butter come from donations from the community and businesses. Their claim to fame was that if families didn't have the money or insurance to cover the expenses for care then Hammerton would.

I've never met a single living person that wouldn't go out of their way to help a sick child in some way, shape, or form. It was my job to see exactly how much they needed to continue their good work and if they were actually spending it wisely. A daunting task for someone that wasn't even nineteen yet. Another two months and that would be something that I would have to amend.

When the books were set aside I was almost relieved to get to the portion of my visit that I was better suited for. Andrew led me around behind the scenes. From touring with Mrs. Cusco I knew the things to look for. She would often point them out for their guide, embarrassing them for whatever reason.

It is human nature to put on your best face for official visitors. The hard part was to see beyond that face to what actually goes on when you weren't there. Not surprisingly, the place was spotless. I would probably eat off the floor if I had to without fear of become sick. It made me wonder how they did it.

There were play areas for the children that were able, and special setups like computers or game consoles for those that weren't able to leave their bed. All in all it was a great place to send SI's money.

Then I had to meet some of the children. This was the most difficult part of my job.

"Do you mind if we go outside?" I asked.

Andrew showed me the quickest way to the front. "You've had personal experience in places like this?"

I looked to him as I walked through the door and got my first breath of fresh air. "How could you tell?"

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "I see the signs, Sasha."

I swallowed and looked off at the trees. "It's the antiseptic smell. I spent way too much time in hospitals when I was young."

He nodded in understanding. "I suppose it brings back a lot of memories then."

"Yeah." Once I was in control of myself I saw the little blonde girl further down the path than she was when I first arrived. "It took the doctors forever to find out what was wrong with me and as a result I was in and out, poked with needles and run through every machine imaginable. A lot of bad memories."

He smiled and held his hand out. "Well then, lets see if we can make some good associations then, shall we?"

I observed a few of the children playing like there was absolutely nothing wrong, like they were at school, or playing in the park.

"Hi."

Turning around I saw the little blonde haired girl sitting in her wheelchair, not two feet behind me. As best as I was able, I squatted down and smiled happily at her.

"Well, hello. What's your name."

"Cynthia. Who are you?" She couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old.

"I'm Sasha."

Her brows worked up. "That's a weird name."

"It's Russian. It means Man's Defender."

"Are you Russian? You don't sound Russian?"

I shook my head. "I'm Serbian-American. My parents moved here when I was younger than you are, and I grew up in America."

She absorbed that for a few moments. "You're very pretty. I like your shirt."

"Thank you. I like yours too. Hello Kitty is my favorite."

Cynthia looked down at the giant white kitten face on her tee-shirt and grinned. "Mine too. Do you have a boy or girl here?"

I shook my head. "Nope. I'm here to see if I can help out."

"Her eyes widened a little. You work here?"

"Not exactly, sweetie. I work for a company that helps out places like this, so you can be taken care of right."

"Oh." That seemed to disappoint her. She sighed a little bit too dramatically. I could tell she knew how to work a crowd. Her cheek worked as she now looked uncomfortable.

That wasn't my purpose here and I wanted to make it up to her. "Have you told the nurses here your wish yet?"

The look on her face got even more sad. "Yeah. They can't do it though."

Crap. I kept digging myself deeper and deeper. "Well, tell me and I'll see what I can do."

I should have just walked away. It wasn't my job to make a girl's wish come true. It was my job to give people money to do that.

"I want to see the leaning tower of pizza."

I blinked. Oh. "It's not really pizza sweetie. It's Pisa. That's the town that the tower is in."

"I know that, but I like calling it pizza anyway."

They girl was throwing me. "Um, why did you want to see it?"

She looked around for a second to make sure we weren't being overheard. "That's where mommy was born. She said her mommy had her in a cab in front of the pizza tower."

I swallowed and tried not to giggle at her grandmother giving birth in front of a gigantic tower of pepperoni pizza. I patted her hand and gave her as sweet of a smile as I could manage. "I'll see what I can do, honey. Okay?"

"Really?"

I nodded. "Give me a little while and I'll see what I can do."

"Okay."

I stood and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "You take care, sweetheart. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

When I returned to Andrew I sighed. "What's wrong with her?"

He frowned slightly. "A lot of different things."

Knowing about patient confidentiality I rephrased my question. "She says that she wants to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa as her wish. Why can't she?"

His hands found their way into his pants pockets. "Cynthia spends most of her day in dialysis. The problem is the cost of having someone trained to do this procedure, the flight over, the stay, flight back, all of this and she has no passport. If it were anywhere in the U.S. we wouldn't have a problem."

My jaw set and I grimaced. "Well, I'm making it my problem. I'll give you a call as soon as I've figured it out."

I was on the verge of tears by the time I'd made it back to the office. Stephen and Dennis were concerned until I told them where I was at. Then they were more concerned.

"They shouldn't make a pretty girl like you go to those places," Stephen said righteously.

I shook him off. "Then who would?"

I'd made my way up the elevator and to my desk before setting my head in my hands.

"Sasha?"

I wiped at my eyes and sniffed, decidedly unladylike. "I'm okay."

She sighed and sat in front of my desk again. "You can't let this job get the best of you, dear. It will tear you apart if you do."

"I know."

"We do what we can with the resources that are available."

"I know."

Seeing that I had heard it all before she set on another tack. "Tell me what set you off."

I gave her the story about Hammerton House and that we should continue our relationship with them. Then I moved on to Cynthia.

"Well, the answer seems simple enough. Get to work."

I looked up from my desk. "What?"

"Contact the people you need to make this happen. See if you can get their support through donated services. Quit feeling sorry for everyone and do something about it, Sasha."

Maybe a slap in the face was what I needed. The determination in Mrs. Cusco's voice sent a jolt of conviction to through me get the job done. "Yes, ma'am."

Without any further acknowledgment I set to work at my computer. Within two hours I had a portable dialysis machine on hold, and someone to man the thing. My problem was the airlines. Because of cutbacks, the economy, the price of jet fuel, and general stubbornness of the higher-ups, no airline would donate the space on any of their commercial flights and definitely on none of their private aircraft. I was ground to a halt and getting progressively frustrated.

I slammed my palms down on the desk. "That's enough. Think Sasha."

My eyes drifted to the photo of Max on my desk then the one of me and Daddy Slade. I blinked and shook my head. "God, you can be so thick sometimes."

Considering the international nature of SI, they had several private jets on call for use. Surely one of them could be made available. I knew from his absence at home this morning that he was at work. With a breath to boost my determination I stood and rounded my desk.

"Any progress?" Mrs. Cusco asked.

I nodded. Halfway there. I'm going up to see if Dad might be able to grease the wheels on one of the items.

She looked over her glasses at me, but nodded. "Good luck."

I called the elevator and was surprised to see someone already occupying it when the door opened. There were a select few that had access to Dad's office which could only be reached by the private elevator. So, it was odd to see someone inside that I didn't know.

Remember those few perfect people I mentioned earlier? She was one of them. At least five-eight, black hair, brown eyes, perfect breasts, and an hourglass figure. She was older, but I couldn't really tell what age. Plastic surgery no doubt. The amount of diamonds she wore spoke of bragging, and the attitude bad, seeing as how annoyed she looked when the door opened.

Plotting eyes took me in as I stuttered in step and entered. The top floor button was lit and I had no question about who she was there to see.

Giving her a small smile I turned around and faced the door. Her eyes raked my body and we stood like that for ten floors. "Who are you?"

I turned my body to her leaving my feet where they were. "Sasha Petrovitch." I held out my hand and she looked at it, promptly ignoring the gesture. Okaay.

"Petrovitch? Are you Russian?"

"Serbian-American actually."

She rolled her eyes and faced forward again shaking her head. Something told me, I'm guessing here mind you, but something told me that she didn't like me.

I was just about to shrug it off when she stopped and her eyes went wide. The lady's head nearly swiveled off it's neck and shot to my left hand. "Where did you get that ring!"

My hand disappeared behind my back and I took a step toward the wall away from her. "Uh, none of your business, but it's my promise ring."

I thought she was going to have a coronary, maybe a stoke, definitely an antacid was going to be needed sometime in the near future. "Your…, I'm going to kill him."

The elevator dinged and she was out and through the glass enclosure in three seconds, tops.

My phone was in my hand a second after that. "Dennis. We might have a problem in Dad's office. Some crazy lady is threatening to kill him."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, Miss Petrovitch. She does that on every visit, at least once. Stephen is on his way up, just in case."

"Who is she?"

"You don't know her?"

"Nu-huh."

"Then it's not really my place to say ma'am, sorry."

"That's okay."

I hung up and made tracks through the door.

"She can't be out of high school yet, Maxwell, you perverted son-of-a bitch!"

"Hey!" I yelled. "You don't talk to him like that!"

She spun on her heel and faced me. "I'll talk to him any way I damn well please, you little gold-digging hussy."

"Olivia, stop. Sasha, it's okay."

Daddy was behind his desk and stood up.

"I already called security, Daddy."

"Daddy?!" Now she spun back around to him. "You make her call you Daddy?"

"Olivia, shut up!" He rounded his desk and pointed a finger at her. "This is what happens when you don't visit your daughter for a year. You get left out of the loop."

"Daughter… Maxine? What's she got to…"

Oh shit. She turned back and looked at me like I was standing there in a court jester's outfit.

"My daughter's a lesbian?"

Daddy shook his head, with eyes rolled up. "You're making an ass out of yourself, Olivia. Calm down. This is Sasha she is promised to Maxine, and the situation is more complicated than you realize."

Hitting my speed-dial I backed away, closer to the door so I could ensure privacy.

"Hey baby. I was just thinking about you."

That melted my heart for a split second before I remember Mount St. Olivia was about to blow. "Max, your mom's here in Daddy's office and she's about to do a Columbine."

"Oh crap." My sentiments exactly. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Okay reinforcements were called. I just had to wait it out. A tap at the glass door made me jump. Oh, Stephen. I joined him in the safety of the atrium.

"Dragon lady on the warpath?"

I rolled my eyes. "She thinks that Daddy and I are promised." I held up the ring.

"Oh boy," he replied with dread.

"He straightened her out, but now she thinks Max is a lesbian."

Stephen shook his head. "Every time she visits it's something."

With an annoyed sigh I opened the door again. "She seems calmed down enough. I guess it's okay to go back down. Sorry for the drama."

"Anytime, Miss Petrovitch. You know that."

My heels clicked on the marble floor as I closed the distance between me, Daddy, and the hellbitch.

Olivia gave me an evil glare from the couch she was pacing in front of. "This is a farce. It's obvious that he's a boy. Your daughter is trying to marry a drag queen, Maxwell."

I was about to spout off, but Daddy beat me to it.

"Olivia, keep a civil tongue in your head or you can leave. I will not say it again." His voice was poisonous. Then in a lighter tone, "As far as obviousness goes, you thought she was girl well enough."

She stopped and crossed her arms under her implants. Okay, I was being a little petty. "I won't have Maxine doing this. I'll sue for full custody if I have to."

Daddy snorted. "Go right ahead. She's eighteen and has three days of school left, then she's on her own. Waste your money as you like."

After all of her insults, I just had to say something. "Did I do something to offend you? Pee on your Gucci knock-offs or something?"

"Sasha," Daddy warned.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, but she has no right to come in here and scream at you like a banshee. I didn't do anything but introduce myself and attempt to shake her hand."

He sighed, rubbing at his temples.

Olivia started to snap a reply back but Daddy held his hand up. "Was there something you needed sweetheart?"

I stepped around the couch and sat at one of the chairs so I didn't have to look at 'it'. "I went to visit Hammerton House, they're the ones that do the Make-a-wish thing for little kids."

He nodded his head that he remembered.

"There's a little seven year old girl whose wish is to go to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa because that's where her mother was born. She's on dialysis and you know all the kids there are terminal cases. I've arranged for a doctor and dialysis machine so she can have her treatments, but I've caught a snag with the airlines and the State Department. She doesn't have a passport and they want to wait at least two months to arrange one for her. That may be too late."

He anticipated my next request. "You want to use one of the corporate jets." I nodded. "Fine, have Franklin call and make arrangements for the jet."

He took out his cell and thumbed through the contacts list before connecting. "Bobby, Maxwell Slade."

"…"

"Fine, and you?"

"…"

"I need a favor. It's for a good cause. I'll let Sasha explain."

"…"

"I'm sure they'll send you an invitation, Bobby."

He punched a couple of buttons and transferred the call to my cell, so I made for the bar to give the divorced couple some privacy. "Hello, Bobby?"

"Sasha, Maxwell tells me you have a problem I might be able to help with."

I gave him Cynthia's story, as well as a little history of Hammerton House. "I don't see any problem getting this pushed through. Mind if we get a news blurb out of it? The administration needs all the goodwill press that it can get at this point."

I smiled. "No sir. Just let me know when and where and I'm all yours."

"Good, I like having positive things to tell the President in our weekly meetings."

I swallowed. He wasn't joking around. He meant the President of the United States.

Double checking the caller I.D. I realized that I was on with Robert Fitzpatrick, the Assistant Secretary of State, and Daddy and I just called him Bobby.

"Maxwell said that I might be able to squirrel a wedding invitation out of you."

That made me giggle. "Well, you have to get Max to propose first. But I'm sure I can do that when the time comes."

A warm chuckle came back at me. "Tell that girl to get a move on."

"Yes, sir."

"Listen, honey, I have to go, but I'll get my assistant on the ball. She'll call you with the details."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much."

My heart soared! Checking my watch I realized that if I left now that I'd be seriously late for dinner. A quick call to Mama and I let her know I was on my way.

"Daddy I have to go. Mama's holding dinner for me."

He nodded and stood. "Everything work out with Bobby?"

I nodded. "He wants a goodwill news spot, but he said yes."

Surprised, Daddy pulled me into a hug. "Excellent work, sweetheart. He's getting something out of it, so he still owes me a favor. Well done. Not even married yet and Slade bartering skills are running through your blood. Always keep them owing you. That's how you reach the top."

I giggled and kissed him on the cheek… only because he leaned down where I could reach him.

I ran into Max on the way out of the building. "She hates me."

"Mom doesn't hate you. She doesn't even know you."

"She thinks I'm a drag queen."

Max's jaw loosened. "She said that?"

I nodded. "Look, it doesn't matter. Don't get in a fight with her over it. I'm serious. It's not worth estranging you and your mother."

She didn't look happy about it, but kissed me anyway. "You better get going or your mom's going to make you quit."

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

"Time and again, Sasha. I told you about working during the school year. I don't like this."

"I'm not working. I'm interning. I have to earn my own way."

"Which you can do soon enough, after school is over. There's nothing that you can do that that others can't."

"Mama, I made a dying little girl's wish come true today!" I said, trying to defend my tardiness. Not anyone else… me, because of who I am and the connections I have.

I just blew up all of her arguments in a neat little pile with that one line. "That's wonderful, Sasha. I'm glad that you were able to make a difference in someone's life, but you are still working yourself far too hard."

Her heart wasn't into it. Even she could tell.

"You always told me to do what I must. To make a difference in what I do. This internship is perfect for that. I'm beginning to make a difference. I did this mostly on my own. It was my first real case assigned just to me." I was rambling and I was hot.

Taking off my jacket, I laid it over the arm of the couch.

"Is that you Sasha?"

"Papa!" I ran over and gave him a hug as he emerged out of the bedroom.

"You're getting more beautiful every day."

After the kiss on his cheek I grinned cheekily at him. "Let's get you something to eat. I'm starved."

"Open the wine, Sasha," said Mama.

By the time we'd sat down I had the glasses full and was merrily filling my plate. "Max is coming over tomorrow night. I want you to find something to do with yourself before seven."

I stopped and looked up at Papa. The spoon in my hand started to shake. "Is it…"

He nodded once. "I assume so. Her request to visit was formal."

Dropping the spoon, I sat back in my chair and looked at the promise ring. Thinking about Max made my heart pound in my chest. Thinking about her asking Papa for permission to marry me had my face alight. "Papa, you have to promise not to give her a hard time. She will be very nervous."

"Sasha…"

"Papa, I mean it. I love her. She's everything to me. Without her…"

"Dusho moja, do not tease your daughter this way." Mama patted my hand. "I will be there, child. If he tries to be funny I will hit him with the dough roller. You know we love Max."

With a reluctant nod from Papa, I eased back in my chair. "I met Max's mother today."

Mama lifted her eyebrows with interest as she had her mouth full.

"She's not a nice person."

Papa pointed hit fork at me before stabbing a piece of meat. "She is Max's mother. You will be respectful."

In my defense I pursed my lips. "I was, Papa. I introduced myself and she snubbed me. Then she called me a drag queen."

He looked confused at the reference, so I explained. "They're like crossdressing showgirls. All big hair and really heavy makeup. Flashy gowns. They go over the top flaunting themselves in front of audiences. It's an act, for the most part, but still. I'm not a drag queen."

His chewing slowed and he looked at Mama, unsure about how to handle that news. Mama, like always had an answer. "People like this woman thrive on conflict, child. They see their insults hurt you and they are appeased. They provoke you in order to garner a response equally as caustic. Be above them in your replies."

"If I don't defend myself then she wins, Mama."

She shook her head. "There is no defense for hatred without cause. Ignore her, or better laugh at her attempts to draw you down to her level. How you present yourself in the face of idiocy says as much about your strength of character than a battle of insults with the bitter."

I poked at a potato on my plate, wondering if she was right. "So you're saying I should just stand there and take it?"

"No, a lack of response sometimes defines you as cowardly or ineffective. I am saying choose your battles. Who was witness to this scene?"

"Mr. Slade."

She spread her hands. "There, you see. The only person who matters in the room was the one person who seems to have supreme confidence in you already. What difference does it make if she makes a fool of herself?"

I shrug.

"Sometimes you are too proud, child. A better response would have been to ignore her and carry on with your business. It would have shown that she had no power over you and you thought of her as nothing. A greater insult to a rich person you cannot make."

I pictured the scene again and guessed what she would have done if I'd just ignored her and sat down to talk to Daddy like she wasn't there." Then I snorted.

Mama was right on the nose with this. I vowed to remember it for the future.

I wanted to write in my journal but I left it at home. Instead I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, thinking about the wedding and everyone we'd have to invite. Bobby Fitzpatrick wasn't the first powerful person that had expressed interest in attending, and I'm sure he wouldn't be the last.

We'd have to rent out a football stadium to seat all the guests at this rate. Anyone and everyone who was anybody wanted to get close to Maxwell Slade during a happy time. It was almost like watching The Godfather and I was the one getting married and Daddy would be sitting in his office with cotton balls in his cheeks. There were plus sides too. I couldn't imagine what the wedding gifts would be like with millionaires, billionaires, and politicians all trying to outdo one another to curry favor.

It was going to be a nightmare.

I'd definitely have to hire a hardcore wedding planner. Oh! I need to start looking through bridal magazines for dress ideas, and colors. And I need to find a Maid of Honor.

Groan.

Leaning over I turned on my lamp and swung my legs out of bed. I'll never get to sleep. The clock on my nightstand read eleven fifty-three.

"Sasha, wake up, child."

I dragged my eyes open. "Mama, it's Sunday," I whined.

"And you told me you were having lunch with Max and her father at the country club. It's already ten-thirty."

I bolted out of bed, straight into the closet, and into the sundress I chose for the occasion. Oh, I gotta pee.

"My eyes are swollen, Mama."

"Did you get any sleep last night."

I shook my head. "I was planning the wedding."

Mama rolled her eyes. "Have you and Max spoke of a date?" I shook my head as I reached for a teaspoon in the silverware drawer and an ice cube in the freezer.

"What are you doing?"

I rubbed the ice cube on the back of the spoon for about ten seconds and then set it on top of my eye. "The cold helps reduce the swelling. They'll be fine in about ten minutes. "

Mama sniffed. "In my day we used Preparation H."

"Eww, on your eyes?" I stuck my tongue out in disgust.

When the spoon had warmed I performed it a second time for my other eye. Who puts butt cream on their eyes. Gag!

"Sasha, don't you think you are exposing a little too much up top today?"

"Mama," I whined. "It's…"

"The fashion, yes, I know."

"Besides. It's retro too. They wore this style back in the eighties."

It was an A-line sundress with a sweetheart neckline and over the shoulder crossed in the back straps. A dark blue with pink flowers. It was really cute and it showed my best assets as a plus. The good thing was I got to wear my new fab strappy sandals. They were nude colored with all the straps wrapping around my ankle into a neat sliding hook thingie. I might have to learn how to drive again without heels. Gasp!

Mama didn't look convinced. "I didn't wear anything like that, and I know none of my friends did either."

"You were in Serbia at the time. They wore these in America."

Another thirty minutes and I was done with my makeup. There, I was sufficiently sexy for my girlfriend… soon to be fiancé! After swapping purses, I double checked to make sure I had my organizer, which I never went to the country club without. Then I was out the door.

Scarlett was purring along the road up to the main entrance before I realized I was going just a tad over the speed limit in order to see my sweetie as soon as humanly possible. I eased off the gas and noticed an old man giving me the evil eye as he was trying to putt or whatever it is they do at the place where they first hit the golf balls. I will never understand that game. However, it makes Max and Papa happy to go out each Saturday morning to bond and sweat. Ugh.

The valet opened my door and helped me out with a smile as a reward.

"Good morning Miss Petrovitch."

"Hi Jeffery. Are the Slade's here yet?"

He nodded. "They just arrived about five minutes ago."

"Excellent, cool." He opened the door for me. "Thanks Jeffery!"

I waved at the bimbo in the office that hits on Daddy every time he comes here, before making a beeline to the Outback Room where lunch was being served. As I saw the doors, I slowed and calmed my breathing. Mustn't look like I was rushing to see my girlfriend, even though I was.

The doors were wide open when I entered. I looked back to our regular table to see Max and Daddy… and It. The evil Monster-in-law was there. Max saw me and stood. I'm sure my feelings were written all over my face.

Warring emotions and thoughts were doing some serious battle in my head. This was Max's mother, the person who gave birth to the girl I love. Obviously Max received all of her genes from her father. Maybe she was the maid's love child and B'Olivia had nothing to do with her upbringing.

"Sasha, every single day, more beautiful."

My heart melted every time Max spoke. For her I would try to get along with It. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby."

She bent down and kissed the corner of my mouth. PDA's were frowned upon at Fallen Oaks. While we could get away with making out on top of the table if we wanted to, we toed the snooty line.

"I know it's a surprise, but she said that she wouldn't be rude for my sake."

I raised a suspicious eyebrow then nodded. "As long as she's civil then I will be."

"That's my girl. Thank you."

Taking her arm, she escorted me over to the table. When Max held out the chair for me I found myself sitting across from, It, and she was staring at my breasts. Hmph, mine were one hundred percent, Grade-A original, home grown. Top that.

"Olivia," Maxwell hissed.

She blinked and looked at her ex-husband with a nasty comment on her lips, but she held herself back.

"Mom, I want to officially introduce the girl that I'm promised to, Sasha Petrovitch. Sasha, my mother, Olivia Lambert." Max made a weird French sound of her last name, like it was pronounced Lam-bear.

It turned up the corners of her lips in a seriously bad mock smile, so I turned on the Sasha charm level to 'Eleven'. "Mrs. Lam-bear it's such a pleasure to meet you. I love your…" crap. I really didn't love anything about her, but I had to say something. "… earrings." In truth, they were gaudy. I mean how big do you need diamond studs to be. The one's she had in her ears belonged on actual rings. It seriously made me wonder who the gold-digger in the family actually was.

"Thank you, Sasha. You have impressive… implants."

Oh my freaking God. "That's it." Pushing away from the table, I stood up. "I'm done. Max I tried to be nice. You know I'm not a mean person, but your mother…" Shut it down, Sasha before you say something that you can't take back. Max and Daddy sat that while I seethed at It. "For your information, Mrs. Lam-bert, mine are totally real. Care to say the same about yours? And your earrings are ridiculous. Do the words 'nouveau riche' mean anything to you? Max, I'm out of here. Daddy, I'm sorry."

I'd almost made it out of the dining room when I heard a chair turn over and running footsteps. Max's hand closed around my waist. "I'm sorry, she promised."

"Well then she's a big fat liar."

She steered me over to one of the closed off dining rooms where we could have some privacy.

"God, Max. I know she's your mother, but…"

"She has issues."

"No shit."

Max smiled. "I won't ask you to be around her anymore."

"Good because it isn't happening. I'm not going to tell you not to see her Max. She's your mother. But me? No, no more. Never again, ever. If she's within fifty miles I want to know so I can find something else to do."

She cringed, and I could already see where that thought was leading. Max wanted her at the wedding. Well, that would happen over my dead body. A wedding was the one day that was all about the bride. She's expected to be selfish and demanding on that special day. And the bride was me. That woman would not be anywhere near my wedding. I'd hire snipers to surround whatever church we used just on the off chance that she'd show up.

In fact that would be the perfect wedding present. I wonder if the Director of the CIA would be invited. I'm sure he'd know someone that could do the job.

"Baby, you look like you're going to do something that I won't like."

Oops. My plotting face must have showed. "No, just fantasizing."

Max kept looking back to the door which made me frown. "If you want to go back and finish lunch then go, Max. I'm not going to come between you and your mother." I tried to sound noncommittal so I wouldn't give her a guilt trip, but I think that was too much of a stretch for me.

"I'm just keeping an eye out. As far as I'm concerned she's the one who put herself in-between her and me."

I looked down at the floor, wishing that this didn't have to happen. Why did people even care about other people they barely interact with. It's not like she lived in town and saw Max every other weekend. She lived in Europe and remarried. She has her own little family to terrorize, why bother us? "Max, why is she here?"

She shrugged. "Dad wanted to bury the hatchet between you two and made her promise…"

I shook my head. "No, not here here, here in the States. I thought she lived in… I was going to say Afghanistan, but thought that would be in bad taste, besides they wouldn't put up with a woman that mouthed off like Olivia Lam-Bert&Ernie.

"Paris," finished Max. "I don't know that either. She said she had some news, but never got around to telling us."

My shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry. You need to go back and talk to her."

"Not while she's acting like a bitch."

My eyes widened. "Max, you can't talk that way about your mother. She gave birth to you and raised you."

She snorted. "Don't kid yourself. The nanny raised me, and I spent a lot of time around Dad."

Hmm, maybe my 'love child with the maid' idea wasn't too far off the mark.

"Still. She's your mother."

Max's lips pursed. "I can't believe that you'd defend her."

I shook my head and paced toward the door. "It's not about her, Max. It's about family and the unconditional love that they are supposed to have for one another."

She came up behind me and slid her hands around my midsection. "You're my family and I unconditionally love you."

I swung my hair to the side and smiled at the feel of her lips on my neck. "I love you too. That's why I want you to go back and have lunch with your mother.""

She sighed in defeat. "What are you going to do?'

"Go home, update my journal. Make sure all my shoes are categorized."

She squeezed me and I set my arms on hers. "You're amazing. Did you know that?"

"I'm just realistic, Dusho moja."

With reluctance, Max went back to the Outback Room and I made my way to the exit. Jeffery opened the door and gave me a concerned look before shooting his eyes to the side. However, I didn't take the warning quick enough and stepped through the doorway. "Thank you, Jeffrey."

Olivia was standing there, waiting impatiently for her Doom-mobile so she could fly back to Latveria and continue her quest for world domination, hopefully. One thing I wasn't expecting was the pleased expression that she was sporting. That was until I finally put all the pieces together. I stood beside her and stared out into the beautifully manicured lawns.

"You planned all of this, didn't you." It wasn't a question. I already knew the answer.

"Of course. You didn't think I was ignorant of my daughter's life did you?"

I shrugged. "One could hope." Without missing a beat I added, "So, where to now? Off to the local childcare center to sacrifice some infants to your Lord Satan?"

I heard an amused huff of air. "I've been at this game for years, little boy. You don't actually think you're up for a battle with me, do you."

"Depends," I shot back.

Olivia couldn't resist asking. "On?"

"How much you actually care about your family. But I think you've made it painfully obvious that you don't care about Max's happiness."

Jeffery looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole to get away from us in case a full blown cat fight were to start. Thankfully for him, her car showed. A limo, of course. The desperate must have their flash.

The door burst open burst open before Jeffery had a chance to do his job for Max. She looked panicked, but saw that we weren't yelling at each other. I heard a loud sniff from behind me and turned around to see Olivia holding a embroidered handkerchief to her eyes.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. You're not seriously going to think…"

"What happened?" asked Max with a little too much worry in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing. Your mother is faking it. She thinks this is all a game. She knew about me from the beginning."

Max looked like she smacked into a brick wall. "Mom?"

Daddy appeared out of nowhere. "Olivia, I think it's time for you to leave."

When It looked back up at us, her red eyes were real enough. If I didn't know better I'd believe she was actually crying.

"Maxwell," she almost wailed. "This little gold-digger is after nothing but the Slade fortune. He'll destroy Maxine."

Daddy didn't look convinced. "If I believed that for a second then I wouldn't let her anywhere near our daughter. She's not the gold-digger in this family. Go back to Europe and leave us alone or I'll contest the divorce settlement. You know I'll win."

Olivia looked like she'd been slapped. Her mouth opened and the fake crying mask fell to reveal the hideous gargoyle beneath. The look made me swear to myself never to indulge in plastic surgery in the future. It did awful things to the eyes and mouth when you were upset. I almost expected her to ask, 'Why so serious?'

Max grabbed my hand and pulled me away. "Go home, Mom. I don't want you here." For once I didn't say anything.

Olivia's eyes tracked from Max to Daddy then back to me where they narrowed. "You'll regret this. Just you wait."

I looked up and around as briefly as I could. "Someone forgot to cue the ominous villain music."

"Sasha," Daddy warned.

"Sorry Daddy."

We retired back into the Outback Room when Bastinda left. I almost wanted to throw a bucket of water on her to see if she'd melt. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why she hated me so much. Was it because I was transgendered, or maybe she hated Daddy so much that she didn't care if she'd hurt Max during the execution of her revenge.

When we returned to our table, everything had been replaced like it was never occupied only five minutes before.

The waiter dropped by and verified that their orders hadn't changed while I asked for whatever soup the chef suggested and some bread.

Daddy look miserable, while Max had a thoughtful face.

"Sasha," Daddy started.

"It's okay. I was hated for absolutely nothing long before I met Olivia. It's not a new experience for me."

"It should be."

I smiled wistfully. "It's a pretty thought, but not realistic." When he didn't look too convinced, I set my hand on his. "I'm actually very surprised that I haven't encountered more. The people here at the club, at work, even you. I expected much more…resistance, I guess."

He looked a little uncomfortable and I instinctually knew that he'd had something to do with my acceptance. Probably sent out a memo at work and put it into the Fallen Oaks newsletter that he'd destroy anyone that crossed me. The man had the power to move mountains, of that I had no doubt whatsoever.

That look he had disappeared and I recognized the abrupt change in subject for what it was. "When are you going to Italy?"

I did a double-take which he thought was amusing. "Pardon?"

Max's attention was brought back into the conversation. "You're going to Italy?"

"I am?"

Daddy nodded. "You too, Max. Sasha has a little girl to escort to Pisa and you need to take a more active role in the company. An unannounced spot check in our Florence office wouldn't go amiss."

Max smirked. "And you can write the trip off as business."

"And charity as well. You and Sasha can stay at the villa near Florence for a week or so. Consider it a graduation present."

My tummy bubbled with joy. A whole week alone with Max in a villa in Italy. Wine, cheese, real Italian meats, a soft bed where we could…

"Sasha?"

"Hmm?"

Max grinned. "You looked like you blanked out there."

Thankfully, I was saved by the arrival of the waiter. Daddy spent lunch telling me about the museums, region, history, and the villa, all located in the Tuscany province. By the time we were finished, I wanted to jump on the nearest jet and make out with Max until we arrived.

Instead, we went back home and enjoyed the afternoon sun. Two weeks previously Max talked me into a bikini. Since it was at home in the privacy of our own pool I relented. Ever since, I'd taken advantage of every sunny day to bask. Jules bitched about the damage it was doing to my skin and upped my skin care treatments to three times a week. The good part was, my olive skin was noticeably darker, giving me a Mediterranean tan. I almost looked healthy.

That meant I had to change the way I did my makeup, but we all had a price to pay for trying to look beautiful for our loved ones. The fun part was having Max oil me down. She quite enjoyed the experience.

The last three days of school was almost anticlimactic. Wednesday, we were released early for good behavior, or perhaps the teachers were simply tired of looking at us and wanted to start their vacations that much sooner.

Max and I were going out to lunch to celebrate when I received at call from Mrs. Cusco.

"Hello."

"Sasha, you've just received a priority package from the State Department. Shall I open it?"

I nearly bounced in my seat. "Oh, yes! Bobby came through. Go ahead, Mrs. Cusco."

I heard some tearing in the background and Max looked at me from the drivers seat of the Corolla. "It contains a passport for a Cynthia McKinney, and a note that reads, 'Sasha, call me when you get this. Bobby.' Can I assume that your little side project was successful?''

"Uh-huh. We're leaving for Pisa as soon as possible. Daddy's making me go as an escort and so Max can check out the offices in Florence."

Mrs. Cusco sighed. "Making you go? Ah, the trials and tribulations of the rich and influential. My heart bleeds for you, Sasha."

I giggled. "Thank you for calling, Mrs. Cusco."

After telling Max the good news I called Hammerton House to speak with Cynthia. She was almost bouncing off the walls when I'd called her Monday afternoon to tell her about her leaving as soon as the passport arrived.

They connected me with Andrew instead.

"Sasha, it's good to hear your voice."

"Andrew? They were supposed to get Cynthia. Her passport just arrived and I've almost got everything ready."

There was a long pause and then he came back. "Sasha, I've got some bad news."

Ice dropped into my gut. "No," I whispered.

"Cynthia passed away last night in her sleep. I'm sorry."

"No… I've got the passport. She can't… I mean… she looked fine the on Saturday."

"It's the nature of her illness. Once the symptoms show themselves it's already too late for treatment. Her dialysis treatments make her look much healthier than she was."

"But…"

"She was very happy these last few days and that was all due to you, Sasha. You should be proud that you were able to bring her that joy in her final moments. Most of the children are too medicated to experience even that."

The lump in my throat was the size of a walnut and made it hurt to even speak. "When is the funeral? I want to be there."

"Saturday afternoon. I'll email the specifics to you." When I didn't say anything he decided to put me out of my misery. "You did a good thing, Sasha. I'm sure she dreamed of her leaning tower of pizza. I don't see how she could not."

"Thank you, Andrew." I thumbed off the connection before I could hear anymore.

When I looked up I noticed that Max had pulled off to the side of the road. Her hand was on mine.

"She didn't make it?"

I shook my head, dumbly. It wasn't until Max had unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me to her that everything became too much.

I woke in my bed at home. Max was there with me and I was cuddled up comfortably to her body. The little place in my heart that Cynthia made in the short time that I'd known her was aching, but I'd survive. I was already recovered enough for my brain to start working again, planning how to make sure that another child's wish didn't go unfulfilled.

My life up until I met Max was one of pain costumed as one thing or another. Now it was a life of luxury. It was time that I brought the two together to find a purpose for my life.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

I looked over from my desk to see Max lounging sleepily on my bed. "Working."

I'd emailed Andrew and set up a meeting to brainstorm with him in order to find a way to speed up the fulfillment process. Cynthia had been at the hospice for two months. All of that time was wasted. She should have had her wish. Instead she'd had a dream, maybe.

Max stretched and made her way behind me, staring at the computer screen. "Wow, you're serious about this."

I had already made up spreadsheets and generated a proposal for Daddy. I wasn't going to ask him for the money which I knew he would give without a second thought. I wanted to earn it this time with a plan to use as little as possible.

The next morning, the meeting with Andrew supplied me with the particulars I was lacking for my report/proposal that I had worked on for most of the night. By the time I'd stepped off the elevator that afternoon to meet with Daddy, I was in my best suit and my hair was pulled back in the most professional way I could make it.

"Sasha," he smiled. "Maxine told me about Cynthia, I'm sorry we weren't able to act more quickly."

"Thank you." I sat down and crossed my legs. He eyed the bound proposal in my hands. Without saying a word he looked at me. Those Slade blue eyes that he and his daughter possessed, calculating what I was up to.

Leaning forward I set the proposal on his desk and pushed it toward him. It was a big desk. "If you would judge this on it's merits and not because of me, I would appreciate it."

His lips quirked to the side. "Merits alone would never have gotten you into this office."

"Greased wheels are a plus that I'll take advantage of, but this is something personal to me, so I want your business opinion to tell me if I'm idealistic or just dreaming."

He picked up the proposal and saw that it was about a quarter of an inch thick. "Grab yourself something to drink. This shouldn't take too long."

On my way back to the bar I heard Daddy tell his assistant to hold his calls for the next hour.

I made myself comfortable in the informal meeting area and pulled out my journal.

From the Journal of Sasha Petrovitch
May 26, 2011

Cynthia's death was a blow. Someone I knew, even briefly, died. It made me curious about a number of things that I'm sure people, over the centuries, have asked themselves time and again. Was there a God and if there was then was Cynthia with him? If there was, then why would he make someone that was so innocent suffer something so inhumane?

When I was younger I had a dog, Kibbles. She was my first experience with death. I didn't even really like her all that much, because she always used to chew on my shoes when I left them out of the closet. They'd be soaked in dog drool and little teeth marks were always noticeable in the rubber soles.

She's wandered from the yard one day when I'd let her out to pee and got hit by a car. I remember crying and thinking it was all my fault and that Mama was going to punish me when she found out. But Mama was just sad, for me. She told me that each life on the Earth serves a purpose no matter how short. Sometimes animals kill for food and are killed themselves in turn. Each serves a purpose. It was our job to learn from each life and each death and to not take any for granted, because the lesson we were suppose to learn made us the people that we were.

If we took their existence of something for granted then we would grow up to be wasteful, selfish, gluttonous, prideful, any number of sinful things. However, if we learned the lesson of each life lived then we would have a foundation of caring and responsibility to build upon.

Cynthia's lesson to me came from Mrs. Cusco. It only took until now for me to realize. Don't let your life be wasted in pity if it was in your power to make things right.

That's were I received the energy to complete my proposal this morning, after staying up half the night. I had the power to make things right. Maybe not with Cynthia, but with those that she maybe called friend.

End Journal Entry May 26,2011

That only took thirty minutes. A call to Bobby Fitzpatrick took the rest of the time.

I thanked him for his efforts and we talked about how we could turn Cynthia's tragedy into something worthwhile. By the time I saw Daddy shifting in his chair, showing me he was finished, I closed the call.

When I returned to my chair in front of the desk he had a serious look on his face. I wasn't able to read if he was in the positive or negative category.

"I won't let you use your settlement from Cypress School District for this."

I huffed. "Daddy."

"No, that's not negotiable. That's your money and it's earning some nice returns at the moment. There are reasons I set aside a certain amount for charitable purposes, and not all of the reasons are wholesome."

My lips thinned a little thinking that I was using Daddy to get what I wanted.

"I'll pass this through legal and accounting. If they approve your numbers then I'll back it."

I sat forward looking like I was going to protest.

"Sasha. I did as you asked. This is not because you are family. It's because I heard about what kind of affect it had on you from Maxine. I've been blessed with a healthy family and I have access to the best doctors in the world if anything should go wrong." He paused and looked thoughtful. "I couldn't imagine what I would do if anything similar were to happen to you or Maxine. What I do know is that I would move Heaven and Earth to make sure whatever you wished for would come true."

I relaxed into the chair as I saw his face change again, becoming more compassionate. "You come from a different background than I do. You've seen a lot of different things and experienced… well lets just say that you have a kind heart for someone that has gone through what you have. It would have made most people broken or jaded. The world needs more people that actually care about something other than themselves. That's why I'm going to do what I'm going to do."

Now he confused me. "What are you going to do?"

He grinned. "You'll see."

The elevator down to the third floor was a somewhat contemplative ride. I've already tried to figure out what makes Daddy Slade tick and every time I've come up wanting for an explanation.

Mrs. Cusco was talking in hushed tones when I arrived and made myself at home at my desk. From here on out I'd be seeing a lot of days here. As per agreement with Mrs. Cusco I was to start, fulltime, after school ended. Now I really would see what happens everyday. No more messing around with holidays or time snuck in here and there. It was my responsibility to make sure that the money SI allocated for charitable endeavors would actually make it to the people and businesses that actually needed it.

It was about an hour later when I was through with my first round of research on a potential new charity that Mrs. Cusco called me into her office and told me to close the door.

She didn't look too happy. "Is there some reason that you took it upon yourself to pull a Lone Ranger with Mr. Slade?"

"Pardon me?"

"Let me make something perfectly clear, Miss Petrovitch." Uh-oh, she never uses a person's last name unless she's seriously pissed. "When I agreed to take you on as my protégé, that was with the understanding that in a year you would take over this position and I could blissfully retire and move away to Iowa, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. That's where I could be virtually guaranteed never to receive calls like the last one I just fielded."

I cringed. Daddy hated the proposal and told Mrs. Cusco to fire me. He didn't want to do it himself. But why? I did all the work and I was even going to provide the startup capital. All I needed was the occasional use of the company jet in order to facilitate meetings and to ferry the patients to their wishes if needed. Most of the kids had simple wishes. Baseball games, or meeting a local celebrity. These were the things Hammerton House excelled in making come true. It was the biggies that they had problems with. Like Cynthia's Pizza Tower.

My hands balled up defensively as I drew in on myself and faced my punishment.

"I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I receive a call from the Chairman and CEO of our company. He tells me you went behind my back, without the slightest indication of my approval and offered a proposal for an extension to the arrangement between Hammerton House and SI." Her lips pursed until they were almost white. "Do you know how long its taken me to work on the budget for my department? Do you know how long it takes for me to draw up each proposal and submit it through proper channels in order to actually get something accomplished? Do you?"

I shook my head.

She was seething, and then suddenly she relaxed in her chair and looked at her watch. "Well, not really too long at all. Everything's computerized now, I just have to input the numbers and it does all the work for me."

"What?"

She leaned forward. "I said my job is pretty simple. The hard part is finding suitable companies to work with and you already know how to do the research to filter out the bullshit."

I blinked at the sight of a sixty-five year old woman saying 'bullshit'.

"You, my dear Sasha had all of… what, eight hours, and you had a proposal ready for Mr. Slade?"

I shrugged. "About six."

"Uh-huh." She looked annoyed. "All of this without the use of our software as well."

"Yes, ma'am."

She sniffed, looking down her nose at me. "Good, I'm going home. The office is yours today. Do whatever you want."

I jerked up from my seat. "What?!"

She stood and closed down her computer. "Sasha. This job isn't about being smart, well that has something to do with it, but it's not the main thing that Mr. Slade was looking for when he hired me. He was looking for someone with a heart. And you, young lady, have that in spades."

"But… but…"

"But nothing. For the next month we'll let the assistants work on the research. That's what they're there for. You will be learning the annoying things, like departmental budgeting, interviewing, managerial things… come to think of it, Accounting and Human Resources can teach you that. I think I might retire even earlier than a month." She shrugged and grabbed her purse. "I'll think about it… at home."

She said the last with a smile and a wink.

When she walked out of the door I was still sitting there. "What just happened?"

My phone rang in the background. I raced as fast as I could in three inch heels to my desk. It was the intercom from the outer office. I punched the proper button. "Yes?"

"Miss Petrovitch. Arthur Langton from City Community College is on line one. Mrs. Cusco said you're in charge from now on. Um…" She sounded really uncertain about what just happened as well.

"Believe me Sheri. I'm just as confused as you. I'll take the call."

It was more work than Mrs. Cusco led on. Well, not work exactly. It was mostly talking on the phone and making appointments for inspections after they'd made it past the background checks. It was more nerve-wracking than anything else. I had to make decisions without Mrs. Cusco's approval. I was so afraid of making a mistake or saying something that I wasn't supposed to that I was a nervous wreck until five o'clock arrived and Sheri came into the office to tell me they were leaving for the day.

"Already?" I looked at my watch and blinked. It was only one o'clock about thirty minutes ago.

"Yes ma'am."

"Uh, okay. Have a good evening Sheri. Tell the girls I said bye, would you?"

She paused and turned back. "Is everything okay, Miss Petrovitch?"

I giggled. I actually giggled. "Sorry, yeah. It's just been a really stressful last few days."

"I knew Mrs. Cusco was planning on retiring next year. Did something change?"

"Honestly, Sheri. I have know idea what happened. But somehow I think I've just been shanghaied. I just haven't figured out exactly how at the moment." I shut down my computer and grabbed my purse. "Have a good night, Sheri. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight ma'am."

I wasn't even nineteen yet and twenty-somethings were calling me ma'am. Well, in their defense, they were calling me that before today so that hadn't changed. But the idea that my status had changed in the office in some way made me a lot more conscious of that honorific."

The private elevator dinged and guess who was inside. No, not It. "Hi Daddy, you're just the person I wanted to see."

Maybe it was my thin-eyed evil glare, or maybe it was my body language screamed, death, murder, mayhem when I centered myself in the elevator. But I could have sworn that Daddy backed away, close to the rear corner.

He cleared his throat.

It was only three more floors so I really didn't have time to get a full head of steam going. "You actually talked Mrs. Cusco into quitting?"

"What? No. How did you get that idea?"

I sniffed trying my best to imitate Mrs. Cusco image, but I think I was failing badly. There's certain things that you can get away with when you have gray hair and glasses to look over. "For some reason she says I'm in charge now. I can't for the life of me figure out why her plans abruptly changed."

The ding sounded and Daddy tried to make his escape, but I grabbed his arm in passing and insisted on being escorted to my car… at a nice leisurely pace.

"Daddy."

"Um, would you believe she's just found an unbeatable price on a large plot of land in Iowa, but she has to take advantage of it now?"

"No."

"I didn't think you would."

"Just tell me the truth."

He sighed, trapped like a rabbit. Have you ever heard a rabbit scream? It sounds exactly like those little chest monsters in Alien when they first pop out and screech at all the stupid humans that are standing around. Really. It's annoying and hard on the ears.

"It's a long story, sweetheart."

We reached my car and the last of his excuses all in one shot. "That's okay. I have to be at work early tomorrow morning. Coincidently the same time as you. So, I'll drive you home tonight and you can ride in with me tomorrow. That way you can take all the time you need."

His backbone started to reform, but wasn't quite there yet. "Weren't you suppose to be staying at your parents tonight."

"Plans change." I keyed the fob and the 'mother ship sound' rumbled from under Scarlett. I couldn't have timed that any better. Daddy's eyes actually widened.

From the Journal of Sasha Petrovitch

May 26, 2011

… It turns out Daddy had this planned from day one. I swear the man is Machiavellian down to the core. Mrs. Cusco was originally planning on retiring in October, marking her twenty years with SI. Daddy convinced her to stay through the year in hopes that I might be competent enough and have enough drive to do the job without mucking things up too badly.

The thing was that I had my epiphany a little earlier than planned. Accounting gave their approval of my numbers, Legal didn't have a problem with anything either. The proposal was too simple since it all hinged on me and my ability to annoy people until they do what I want. Since I had the ear of Maxwell Slade and his successor people would fall over themselves to donate things.

That's one of the reasons Daddy wanted me in this position. It would mean less resources would be taken away from SI and we'd be able to spread ourselves into even more areas. All for the cost of one jet and the fuel and maintenance to keep it up. In the world that is high finance it mean pennies.

The way he looked at it, I had already streamlined the department. The hour-plus long phone call to Mrs. Cusco was them discussing any further training I needed and when she would get to cut loose and let her hair down. A more disturbing image doesn't come to mind.

I told him that she said Accounting and HR could finish my training in topics of Management skills I lack, and to expect her to not be in a lot over the next month. Daddy, of course already anticipated this.

If I ever go to Vegas I'm taking him with me.

On the lighter side, Max is suppose to start spending a lot more time on the top floor with Daddy. She wrangled it to begin next Monday so she'd have the week to decompress from high school.

Tomorrow's the day: 249 days have passed since Max gave me my promise ring. I'm nervous and elated all in one emotion. This will make it official and then the race toward the wedding will begin.

Something just occurred to me. I'll be taking over as Department Head no later than this time next month. Probably sooner. And I have to plan a wedding. Maybe I need to invest in a good antacid. I feel serious stress coming in the near future.

End Journal Entry May 26, 2011

Daddy insisted I take the day off. Mrs. Cusco said I was an idiot if I didn't listen to Daddy since I'd be busy enough in the coming months. Max looked really nervous. All in all I thought it was building up to be a perfect day.

In a strange turn of events, Max bought me a sundress that was really cute. It had a full skirt, reaching down just past my knees and a bodice that covered a good portion of my breasts, leaving only a teasing amount of cleavage to temp my girlfriend. Pink flowers adorned most of the fabric and two simple thin straps dropped over my shoulders. She's also got me some new pink strappy sandals to go with it. I think three inch heels was becoming my signature footwear. The only jewelry for the day was a short pearl necklace and pearl earrings. Oh, and my promise ring, but that goes without saying.

Max wore khaki slacks and a white polo with brown loafers. Even in typical boy clothes she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever known and hopefully sometime today I'd be engaged to her.

We drove to the Strand, a set of shops down by the coast set in an antique setting, like we were walking in the 1800's or something. In the middle of the fake street -- it was blocked off on either end of the half mile of shops so no cars could enter -- she had me look up at the plane that was passing overhead. It was trailing a banner, and I thought to myself, 'this is it!' But it was advertisement for some stupid furniture store.

During lunch Max ordered champagne and I thought, 'this is it!'. I remembered my heart was racing when it arrived, there was nothing waiting at the bottom of the glass. At first I thought maybe the stupid waiter mixed up the glasses but after discreetly checking Max's as well, I was starting to have doubts. Maybe she forgot.

If there was one aspect of acting like a male I didn't want her to have then forgetting important dates wasn't one of them. I had so many organizers, computers, assistants and so forth to remind me that an upcoming event was imminent that it was pathetic. I'd hate to have to smother the girl that I love in her sleep if she forgot to propose.

A street violinist met us after we exited the restaurant. He was playing
'That's Amoré' for God's sake. This had to be it! Max just smiled and tipped the guy a twenty before we moved along.

She's forgotten. That's all there was to it.

We shopped for most of the day, and I tried to put it all in the back of my head. Max would remember in the morning and come to apologize for ruining the day and of course I would accept, right after I brained her with the bedside lamp.

We toured a couple of museums at the end of the Strand. It was nice but regional art just wasn't my thing. If it were ancient then that would be one thing. Hearing about Michelangelo's David in Tuscany from Daddy had me itching to see it, but viewing pictures of southern belles in their hoop skirts was rather boring. Plus my feet hurt.

When we reached the end of the tour, we only had one more room to view, I was more then ready to call it a day, go home and soak my body in a nice bubble bath.

The room was warmly lit and virtually empty except for one portrait.

"Wow, a whole room to himself," I commented on the artist. Something was odd about the picture though. You've seen those mirror pictures where the same image is displayed over and over, only progressively smaller each time? It was kind of like that, except it was a picture of the room we were in and a girl standing by that same painting holding her hand to her mouth and a man kneeling next to her on one knee. And the girl was wearing my dress. It almost looked like…

I spun on my heel and Max was on her knee. I felt like screaming, but all that came out was a strangled, "Eep!" And like the girl in the painting I was holding my hand over my mouth.

Max looked up at me. She was pale as words can't describe. "You know the really hard part about proposing when the girl you love is expecting it?"

I could even bring myself to shake my head. THIS IS IT!!!

"It's trying to be spontaneous. I've been thinking of a way to tell you how much I love you, reading books of poetry, watching dozens of romantic movies, talking to every married person I knew. The thing is, Sasha, that none of them came close to way I feel about you."

Warm tears trailed my face. I wanted to tell her I felt the exact same way, but I didn't want to interrupt her speech that I'm sure she spent eons on.

"I asked your father on Sunday how he proposed to your mother. He looked at me disapprovingly, you know how he always looks at me."

I grinned and almost giggled, but found the courage to nod quickly.

"He told me, 'Max, she knows you love her. Don't be stupid. Tell her you love her and ask her to marry you.' Your mother hit him with a rolling pin and told me to do whatever was in my heart."

Again I almost giggled at what Mama and Papa had to contribute.

"The thing is that your dad was right. I don't need flowery words to tell you that you're the most important person in my life and I don't want to spend another day without you. I want us to grow old and loving like your parents. Where family is everything. I want us to have kids and raise them with the same values that you were raised. I want you to be my wife, Sasha. I love you. Will you marry me?"

At the last second she popped open the small box she was hiding and held it up for me. I couldn't take it any longer.

"YES!" I dropped down on my knees and grabbed Max's face to give her the biggest most loving kiss I could manage followed by the world's longest and tightest hug, all the while whispering, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. God yes."

I was full on blubbering by this point. Max took my promise ring off and replaced it with the engagement ring. I was mesmerized by the sight of the diamond solitaire, knowing that sometime in the near future it was going to be joined with a wedding band that would mean Max I would be together forever.

When I tore my eyes away, Max was dabbing at my cheeks with a handkerchief.

"I love you, Max."

She smiled and I watched as her eyes pooled before she kissed me again.

The end, for now.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm already working on the next story. Now I have to go make an organizer page for this. I'm sorry I have responded to very few reviews. My head is in a weird place at the moment and everything I write in response sounds bad. You really don't want to read it. But they are appreciated. Thank you.
Photo Credit: Kayleigh Hendricks
Author's notes 2: Before you complain that I'm not writing your favorite story. Would you rather I not release anything at all? Please people, think before you hit the enter button. Waiting to finish every story I write is killing any creativity I possess. I will finish them. Have faith.