(Then/Now) Cassie: I Fucked Up

November 2008

"Oh come on," Savannah wheedled.  I regarded my cousin with disdain.  I didn't really care for Savannah, but now that she was going to school in Denver, she seemed to pop up whenever she needed something.

"No, Savannah.  My dad keeps inventory."  If she thought that I was seriously going to sneak her into my dad's restaurant in the middle of the night so she could steal some booze from his storeroom, she was out of her fucking mind.

"It's fine, I have some empties.  I'll fill them up with water.  I only drink clear liquor anyway," she reported.  "He won't even notice for months if we take the right bottles.  Don't be a pansy."

I didn't really care what kind of liquor she drank.  We were both 20, and apparently the latest boy she'd been sleeping with--who had, of course, also been buying her booze--had decided she was too high maintenance for his tastes and had taken his I.D. and credit card (and the rest of him, but that was apparently easily enough to replace) away.

"Go away," I said, holding open the door to my tiny apartment.  It was a studio (which Savannah disapproved of completely), but I was paying my tuition and my rent on my own, and I was proud of that.

"You are so lame," Savannah replied, but she flounced out the door.  I closed it tightly behind her and looked at the clock.  Shit, Savannah had distracted me for too long, I needed to get ready for work.

I pulled into the parking lot of my dad's restaurant, which I'd been working at since I was 15, and parked my car.  My watch read 4:49, which meant that I had one minute to get inside and clock in  before bar time said I was late.  I grabbed my stuff and booked it inside, clocking in seconds after the clock had changed to 5:00.  Stupid bar time.

We were dead that night, and I had my sidework done and was out by 9:30.  I also hadn't made shit for tips.  Oh well.  Tomorrow--Friday--would be better for sure.

I had a message on my phone, and I rolled my eyes when I listened to it.  It was Savannah, continuing to bug me about getting her in so she could take some alcohol.  I deleted it and didn't call back.  I didn't understand why she couldn't just find a new 21+ toy to play with.

Over the next week, though, Savannah badgered me to my breaking point.  I finally agreed to let her in for one bottle.  My dad made a ridiculous profit on alcohol anyway.  And hopefully after that she would let it be.

We went at 3am on a Saturday.  I pulled my car up behind the restaurant.  I had to go in the front door to disarm the security system, but Savannah insisted on waiting for me to open the kitchen door for her.   As I unlocked the front door, I looked automatically up at the camera like I always did, and I realized why.  "Bitch," I muttered.  I could think of a million ways to explain away my presence though, if my dad looked at the tapes for some reason.  And hopefully, like Savannah said, he wouldn't even realize his alcohol had been tampered with until months later, so he wouldn't put two and two together.  Hopefully.

My stomach roiled and clenched with nerves and I botched my first attempt at disarming the alarm.  "Shit, shit, shit!" I muttered to myself.  I quickly put in the correct numbers as the warning beeps grew louder and closer together, signaling that I was running out of time.  When it chirped and quieted, I briefly shut my eyes as I breathed out in relief.

Why am I doing this? I wondered to myself.  I was seriously questioning my own sanity, but it was too late now.  I walked quickly through the dark restaurant and flipped on the kitchen light--the only one that wouldn't be seen from outside.  Then I hurried to the kitchen door and pushed it open.  Savannah stepped in, looking as cool and collected as she always did.  "I was starting to think you wussed out and left me here alone," she sniffed.

I rolled my eyes and led the way to the store room where my dad kept the extra alcohol.  I unlocked it quickly and pushed the door open.  Savannah tried to slip past me but I put an arm up, blocking her.  "No way," I said.  "I know how this stuff is organized.  Give me your bottle and I'll make the swap."   She sighed and handed me the Ketel One bottle and I quickly found the case of Ketel One and pulled out one bottle and stuck hers in.

"Here," I said bitterly, handing it to her.  "Go straight out the kitchen door and don't touch anything else.  I'm turning the light off."  She took out her cell phone to illuminate the way.  I waited until she was at the door and flipped it off.  I heard the door open and I made my way back to the front.  I was insanely nervous again, and I peeked out into the parking lot before I emerged.  I locked the door quickly and walked around to the back.  Savannah was already sitting in the car.  I glanced at the kitchen door, then started the car and drove home.

"Never, ever again," I reiterated as Savannah and I got out of my car in front of my apartment building.

"You are such a drag," she replied.  "Thanks though!"  I waited until she was in her car, then I headed into my apartment.  I was shaking from the adrenaline of what I had just done, and I was so tired.  It was nearly 4 am by this point.  I pulled off my clothes and fell into bed, tossing and turning for nearly an hour before I finally fell asleep.

I was awakened rudely by my phone ringing loudly.  I fumbled for it before I realized it was still in the pocket of my jeans, which were across the room.  I squinted at the clock and saw it was only a little after 7.  The ringing stopped, and I decided I'd take care of it when I got up.  I rolled over and started to try to go back to sleep, but my phone rang again.  Swearing, I stumbled out of bed and fished it out, then answered.

"Cassandra."  My mom's voice was tight and anxious sounding.

"Yeah?"

"Your father's restaurant is on fire."  I was silent, trying to wrap my brain around those words.  "Cassandra?"

"Mom, don't call me that," I replied pointlessly.  "On fire?"

"On fire," she reported.  "The fire department is there now trying to put it out.  Your father is down there."

Suddenly, panic jolted me.  I would clearly be on tape, entering and exiting the restaurant at 3 in the morning.  Would they blame me?  "I...wow.  D-do they know how it...started?"  The words weren't coming out the way I wanted them to.

"Of course they don't," my mom snapped, and I could tell she was losing her patience.  "It's still burning."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing, right now," she replied, and her voice was kinder.  "I'll keep you posted, I just wanted you to know.  I didn't want you to get up and turn on the news and hear about it that way."  Like I watch the news on Saturday mornings.

We said goodbye and hung up, and I immediately dialed Savannah's number.  It went right to voicemail.  I cursed and left her a curt message demanding she call me back as soon as she got up.  I didn't even bother laying back down.  Instead, I got up and made myself some coffee.  I sat down with it, but was only able to sit for a few minutes.  I didn't know what to do.  I decided to go for a run.

I'm not a runner, but running is what people do when they're stressed, right?  Well, I'm not sure how it helps.  All it did was make me sweaty, sore, and out of breath.  I got back and took a shower.  I was checking my phone over and over but Savannah hadn't called back yet.  Finally, I got in my car and drove to her apartment.

I slipped into the controlled access building with someone else and ran up the 6 flights of stairs to her apartment.  I pounded on her door for nearly a minute straight until she finally opened it.

"What the hell, Cassie?" she demanded.

"My dad's restaurant is on FIRE!" I practically shrieked, shoving my way into her apartment.

"I know," she replied.

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned.  "What do you mean, you know?" I asked.

"It's all over the news, don't look at me like that."

"Well what am I supposed to do?  My face is all over the security footage."

Savannah shrugged.  "It'll probably be destroyed in the fire."

"And if it's not?" I demanded.

"Your dad won't ever believe that you arsoned his restaurant," she said dismissively.  It was clear she wasn't at all worried.  I couldn't stay here with her, she was pissing me off.

After I left, I decided to drive to the restaurant.  When I got there, I realized Savannah was most likely right that there would be nothing left of the security tapes.  The restaurant was still on fire.  Firemen were everywhere.  I had to park several parking lots over.  I sat and watched the firemen fight the blaze for nearly an hour.  It didn't seem like they were making any progress.  I felt absolutely sick.  Regardless of how they determined the fire was started, my dad's restaurant was destroyed.

My mom finally called me the next day.  "It's out," she reported.  "It's gone.  They'll tear down what's left."

"Do they have an idea how it happened?" I asked meekly.  I was exhausted.  I hadn't slept.  I still felt vaguely like I was going to throw up.

"They think it was arson," my mom replied, and my worst fear was confirmed.  I sat down hard on the floor.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Cassandra," my mom warned, but it was a very lackluster warning.

"Is there anything left?" I asked desperately.  "The security tapes?  Can they see who was there?"

"The tapes didn't make it." I breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent prayer of thanks.  I realized my mom was still talking.  "Which is unfortunate.  Since it's arson, the insurance won't pay unless we can prove who did it.  Your father and I just lost a lot of money."


*****

Now

I sat in the conference room in Brody's office suite and looked at Liv, willing her to be sympathetic.  Instead, she just looked confused.  I don't blame her.  She thought I was coming here to explain what was going on, and I had just told her a story from nearly 7 years ago.  I was planning on telling them what was going on, but the story was necessary.

"Okay, and?" Brody asked.  Even from here I could see the set of his jaw.  I looked at James, who nodded reassuringly.

"In June, Savannah and I were forced together for my brother's birthday dinner.  I mentioned that I had a new neighbor," I looked pointedly at Liv, "and she was suddenly really interested.  She told me she wanted to know more about you, but didn't want me to tell you I knew her.  It was fine at first.  We had a few conversations, I fed her a little info, she mostly left me alone.  When I realized she was scheming, I said no more."  I looked desperately at Liv, whose expression morphed briefly from confused to angry before she smoothed it into a placid, expressionless mask.  Her therapist face.  "I was getting to know you, and I liked you.  And I didn't want to be in the middle of her feud."

"But you kept telling her things anyway," Liv said.  "That's how she knew about my dinner with John.  That's how she knows about James and Jordan.  You just kept telling her.  Plus, you took that job to spy on us!  And what does your story about the fire have to do with any of this?  Because I'm starting to feel like you're wasting some more of my time, and I'm not very happy about it."  Brody laid a hand on her leg, but she brushed it off.  She was working hard to keep her face unreadable, but she was clearly furious.  I couldn't blame her.

"I'm getting to that," I replied patiently.  I took another deep breath and James bumped my knee with his under the table.  "When I told her I didn't want to do it anymore, she showed me that she had pictures of me in the restaurant the night it burned down.  She had taken them on her phone, and they sucked, but it was clearly me.  And they were date stamped on the phone.  I don't know where she'd been keeping that stupid old thing, or why, but she had it.  She said she'd tell my dad."

Liv's expression didn't change, but a muscle in Brody's tightly clenched jaw twitched.  I was worried about his teeth.  "I couldn't bear for my dad to know I had been in the restaurant that night.  I still don't know if Savannah set me up or if it was a big coincidence, but my dad lost the most profitable of his establishments that night.  He would be devastated to think I had something to do with it."

Liv and Brody remained silent so I continued.  "I was desperately trying to figure out a way out of it by the time she started asking me to stir up some rumors about Brody doing illegal business.  I was trying to avoid you, so I wouldn't have much to say to her.  She told me this was the last thing she wanted from me.  When everything backfired and you supported Brody and the rumors didn't take, Savannah told me to just get out of the way.  That's why I went to my parents' house.  I just needed to get out of here and be somewhere where I couldn't do any more damage."

"So why are you telling us this now?" Liv asked, her tone bitter.

"Because I heard about what she did this weekend.  Enough is enough."

Liv snorted and rolled her eyes.  I had never seen her this angry.  Brody put his hand back on her leg and this time she allowed it to stay.  "So what do you want from us now?" Brody asked.

"Nothing," I replied honestly.  "I wanted you guys to know the truth.  I want to apologize.  I'm so incredibly sorry.  I fucked up.  I fucked up really, really badly, and I regret every second of it.  I don't expect you to accept it, or to forgive me.  I just want you to know.  I told my dad everything, too.  He called her dad and he flew out this morning to collect her and take her back to California.  I don't know what they're going to do, but I'm pretty sure she's done gallivanting around with my uncle's credit card."

I tried hard not to shrink under Liv's glare.  Brody nodded though.  "Thank you," he said, surprising me.  Apparently it surprised Liv too, because she gave him a funny look.  "I appreciate you telling us this, but now you need to leave.  And I think it would probably be best if you didn't contact either of us unless we contact you first."

"That's fair," I agreed.

"It doesn't fucking matter if it's fair," Liv snapped.

"Liv--" Brody started.

"No!" she interrupted.  "She doesn't get to come in here and talk about "fair" after the shit she's done."

"I get it," I said softly.  "I deserved that."

Liv looked about ready to throw something at me.  "It's time for you to go," Brody said.  He motioned to the door and James and I stood.  He walked us silently to the door of the suite and held it open.  I heard the lock click behind us.

"Well," James said.  "Now what?"

I shook my head.  "I have no idea."