Impossible

“Is she all right?” Although she'd never had children of her own, nor been married, Marcie was the ultimate nurturing mother, which was one of the things Sasha loved about her. She was not only good at what she did, but loving and kind, and wonderful to Sasha.

“I don't know. She won't talk to me. We had a terrible fight. Worse than I can describe.” Marcie knew that hadn't been unusual when Tatianna was younger, but in recent years mother and daughter seemed to get along fine. Until now.

“She'll get over it,” Marcie reassured her. The question now was, would Sasha?

“I'm not sure she will,” Sasha said, as she blew her nose and wiped her eyes on one of her lace hankies. She had acquired the habit from her mother of always carrying a handkerchief. It was one of the tender memories of her she cherished. Sasha always had one in her bag. “It was terrible,” Sasha reiterated while Marcie clucked over her, and came back with a cup of tea, a glass of water, and some cookies, as Sasha looked up and smiled. “Thank you, Marcie.” Her assistant seemed to hesitate before she left, and then asked Sasha if there was anything she could do to help. She didn't want to pry. “I wish you could, but you can't,” Sasha answered, and then started to cry harder. Marcie couldn't stop herself then, she came back into the room and gave her employer and friend a hug.

“Whatever it is, it'll blow over, I promise,” Marcie said, nearly in tears herself.

“No, it won't.” Sasha blew her nose again, as the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. “It's Liam,” she finally confessed, as Marcie stared at her in confusion.

“Liam?” What did he have to do with it? Marcie couldn't figure it out. “Does she know him?” How did he get into the fight? It was definitely confusing.

“Better than she wanted to the other night. He was staying with me in Southampton.” That still didn't explain it to Marcie, but she looked sympathetic as Sasha tried to fill her in, as best she could.

“And they got in a fight?”

“She called him, and me, every name in the books. Whore, slut, gigolo, bastard. That was just the beginning.”

“My God, what happened?” Marcie looked appropriately shocked.

Sasha looked at her long and hard. She trusted her. She had known her for years, and loved her. She hadn't wanted to share this with anyone yet, if ever, but she needed to now. “She walked in on us in Southampton. I had no idea she was going to use the house. We were in bed. She walked in. We thought she was an intruder. Liam walked out of the bedroom stark naked with a fireplace poker, and damn near hit her on the head. After that, all hell broke loose.”

“Liam? What was Liam doing in your bedroom?” Marcie looked blank, and Sasha laughed through her tears.

“For heaven's sake, Marcie, what do you think he was doing in my bedroom? Believe me, Tatianna figured it out. Particularly as he was standing there naked, and she had a date with her, and was obviously planning to do the same thing we were, and have been doing for six months, give or take. We've stopped seeing each other once or twice. I'm sure this won't help.”

“You and Liam?” Marcie looked like Sasha had hit her on the head with the poker. “You and Liam?”

“Does it sound as bad as that?” Sasha looked mortified again. The past three days had been the most humiliating of her life. And now Marcie looked shocked, and Sasha was sorry she'd told her.

“Bad? Are you kidding? If I could land a guy like him, I'd be a believer forever. He's gorgeous, talented, and nice. What else do you want? What does she want? Maybe she's jealous.”

“She's not jealous. She hates him. She doesn't like artists, she's met so many crazy artists over the years, she thinks they're all flaky, and most of the time she's right. So is he sometimes. But I'm in love with him, and he says he's in love with me. And now Tatianna wants to kill him, and she'll probably never speak to me again.”

“Of course she will. Why have I not been able to figure this out?” Marcie said, feeling stupid. “How blind and dumb am I?”

“We've been trying to keep it quiet, until we figure it out ourselves. It's actually been working very well now since April, but that's only three months.”

“What are you afraid of?” Marcie asked her gently. Sasha had shared private matters with her before, and she always gave her employer wise counsel.

“Are you kidding? He's twelve years old. I look like his mother, and I don't want to be one, except to my own children.”

“First of all, you don't look like his mother, you don't even look old enough to be Xavier's mother, or Tatianna's, and secondly, all men are babies, and every woman in the world ends up mothering them. If you don't, they run off with someone else who will.”

“Or another twelve-year-old. I don't want to fall in love with a man who is going to run off with a twenty-year-old ten years from now. It could happen.”

“Is he like that?” Marcie looked worried.