Chapter Text
When the nights rolled around, Aspasia’s inbox would follow her into bed. When she closed her eyes, she could still see a growing list of subject lines, her mangled calendar, and the growing pile of approval papers waiting for her scrutiny. She never settled down, only waited for sleep to drag her under, and the morning always came too soon.
Bed simply wasn’t the same retreat for her as it was for most people. Now, for the second time, she shared it with Kassandra. After their first encounter, the younger woman kept her distance. She’d turned onto her side and stayed respectfully in her own half. Tonight, she was bolder, edging closer to the centre, and resting her hand tentatively on Aspasia’s hip.
She had no intention of cuddling. It was too close, too intimate, too loving. But she’d put the woman through her paces. When she said she’d take everything she wanted, she meant it. She lost count of how many times she made her climax, louder and messier each time. She fucked her to the brink of exhaustion, but Kassandra took it beautifully.
If she wanted to hold her for a moment, it was a fair reward. She took her hand and pulled it across her body, drawing her in. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness, but once Kassandra moved in, and the warm touch of her bare skin spread across her back,
Aspasia was powerless to stop it. The contact made her feel ten times lighter, and she felt safe in her arms.
Probably some evolutionary nonsense that needs to be done away with, she reasoned.
And just like that, she drifted off to the best sleep she’d had in years.
When she woke, it was no wonder Kassandra was still asleep. She caught sight of the robe belt, its base still attached the headboard, and smiled at the memory. Then, she saw the time, and shot upright.
“Jesus, it’s 10:19,” she said. She threw the duvet aside, and her corner landed unceremoniously on Kassandra’s face.
“What time are we supposed to go?” she mumbled.
“I said we'd be there for 2PM.”
Kassandra groaned, rubbed her own face like an otter, then flopped back onto her side.
Thankfully, she was much quicker to get ready than Aspasia, who needed to coordinate her outfit, style the waves in her hair, and apply her makeup. With half an hour to spare, Kassandra simply rolled out of bed, braided her hair loosely, and threw on a shirt and jeans. She still looked stunning, and Aspasia forced herself not to be resentful.
***
“You still haven’t told me who we’re going to see,” said Kassandra, as they stopped at a red light. Her window was all the way open, and she let her arm hang out of the side, always finding inventive new ways to slouch.
“Don’t leave handprints on my car door, Kassandra,” said Aspasia. “If you do, I will leave one of my own.”
“Oh sorry,” she said sardonically. “Leaving handprints, wearing bathrobes, whatever will my next crime be?”
“You knew what you were doing, and now you’ve been warned.” Aspasia pulled a hand from the steering wheel to point.
“Have you ever heard the old adage about threatening people with a good time?” Kassandra jabbed.
Aspasia rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help cracking a smile.
“We're going to see a woman named Anthousa. We’ve been friends for a very long time. She’s dealt with very difficult personalities over the years, and she’s just the person to advise me on the board.”
“That Anthousa?” Kassandra baulked. “Anthousa the supermodel?”
“That’s right,” she said. It was easy to forget just how famous people were. Where Aspasia left modelling behind, Anthousa carried on and became a star. She was slightly older than Aspasia, and any other model would have been nearing the end of their shelf life, but she was never lacking in bookings. "She also runs a huge agency."
“If I’d known, I would have dressed better, but why are you bringing me? In the nicest way possible, of course.”
Because Anthousa had always been wise beyond her years. Aspasia could read people very well, but Anthousa truly understood them. She could walk into any room, and leave an hour later with a detailed profile of the people around her, the way they operated, and what they wanted. She was the best judge of character around. But Aspasia couldn’t rightly tell Kassandra that it was an informal vetting process.
“When I said this trip would help your professional development, I wasn’t being euphemistic. Anthousa is a good person to know. Connections are just as important as hard work, where careers are concerned.”
Kassandra’s ringtone interrupted them. She fished the phone from her pocket and sighed, muting the tone.
“Who is it?”
“It’s my mother.”
“You should answer it,” said Aspasia. “What if it’s important?”
“It never is. She usually calls me asking me what her passwords are because she’s forgotten them. She knows I won’t answer, anyway. She thinks I’m at a hen party for a Uni friend that doesn’t exist. But everything demands a phone call. You know what mothers are like.”
Not really, Aspasia thought, but didn’t say. Her own parents had been inattentive, and they hadn’t spoken in years. She turned the car up the winding roads to the hills, for once slowing down to a sensible speed.
“You shouldn’t lie to her,” she said, acutely aware of her own hypocrisy. If she hadn’t lied to her own parents, she probably wouldn’t have been driving this car. “Not if you can help it.”
“Sometimes I don’t have a choice,” said Kassandra. “She warned me about you, you know. When the Aston pulled up, and I got out, she knew exactly what had happened. She’d kill me if she knew where I was.” She complained, but there was a fondness beneath it.
“I suppose I won’t be coming over for Christmas, then,” Aspasia offered a rare joke. Kassandra smirked and shook her head.
“Definitely not.”
Finally, they arrived at Anthousa’s villa. It was a large white building with a flawless terracotta roof. It boasted several stories, sprawling verdant gardens with palm trees, and a pool underlit by bright lights.
“This is nice,” Kassandra commented, eyeing their destination as they entered the driveway. “Just out of curiosity, where does Anthousa keep her silverware?”
“In the kitchen drawer, I’d imagine,” Aspasia said. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m far richer than her, and all of my cutlery is from IKEA.”
“Wow,” Kassandra scoffed. “You’re so down to earth. Next you’ll be telling me you shop at ALDI, and that you got your Louboutin’s from the charity shop.”
“Why are you so intent on winding me up?” Aspasia demanded to know. Kassandra shrugged.
“Because nobody else will.”
Aspasia had to scoff at that. If only she could see the state of her meetings.
“Get out of the car, and behave,” she said. Kassandra gave her one last grin before she pulled her door handle.
They made their way to the front door, and Aspasia rang the bell. After a few long seconds, it clicked open, and there stood Anthousa. She looked the same every time they met. She wore a trademark red Gucci dress. As she smiled, Aspasia could see that she still hadn’t aged, but as their eyes scanned over each other, she could tell her friend was thinking the same thing.
“Aspasia!” She threw her arms open and pulled her in for a hug. “It has been far too long.”
“Agreed.”
“So, who might you be?” Anthousa pulled back, quickly turning to the new guest.
“I’m Kassandra,” she introduced herself, “I’m-“
“My personal assistant,” Aspasia interrupted to throw down a gauntlet.
“Your personal assistant, I see.” Anthousa smiled knowingly, and rested her hand on Kassandra’s arm. “What an incredible personal assistant you must be, since our friend here can’t stand them. And she lets you dress so casually, too! She must like you very much.” The reaction was exactly what Aspasia had expected. She’d sniffed them out in roughly thirty seconds.
“I think she does,” Kassandra said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.
“See, Kassandra, you might have noticed that Aspasia has a bad habit of taking people for fools, myself included. So, how long has this gone on for?”
“I never doubted you,” said Aspasia. “A week.”
“A whirlwind romance, then. How exciting! Do come in,” said Anthousa, leading them through the hallway.
It was certainly a whirlwind, but the word romance hit a snag. Whether it was more or less than that, Aspasia wasn’t sure, but she was in no position to correct her.
“I feel very judged,” Kassandra whispered, as their host walked ahead of them. “Is she always like this?”
“She means well,” Aspasia replied, “but yes.”
She led them through into the lounge, and it was a room Aspasia knew well. Where her own apartment was sleek and minimalist, their host’s was grand and theatrical. Dark wood furniture, stark red chesterfields, and a flattened bear rug. Plated awards and prints of magazine features were displayed across the walls. It had vanity written all over it, but that was Anthousa’s currency.
The décor didn’t shock her like it did Kassandra, whose eyes were darting all over the place. Aspasia had spent countless evenings here, chatting over glasses of wine, strategizing over brochures and brands.
“This villa used to belong to the CEO of the first agency we worked for. Anthousa went on to buy it from him, and she took over the company,” Aspasia explained, for Kassandra’s benefit. “She bought all his shares and ousted him.”
“Where do you work, Kassandra?” asked the Gucci-clad usurper.
“I work at Kosmos, actually,” she answered. “I’m a Junior Marketing Executive.” Anthousa seemed just as surprised by the lowly title as the workplace, but she did well to keep her expression guarded.
“Perhaps one day, you can buy Aspasia’s shares and kick her out too. She needs humbling,” said Anthousa. Kassandra laughed, and her shoulders were much lower when they settled. The joke seemed to put her at ease.
“The shares will be too expensive by the time I’m finished,” said the Director.
“I’ll buy them, then. Finance is awfully dull, and you’ll always be wanted in the fashion business. If we worked together again now, God knows we’d be unstoppable,” Anthousa prodded her shoulder. “Although, if you were to make a sizeable investment in this company before you left, that would be most welcome.”
“I could buy it, if I wanted to.” Aspasia said.
“See,” Anthousa lifted a hand and turned to Kassandra. “Very in need of humbling.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Kassandra rested her hands on her hips. “Her cutlery is from IKEA, you know. She told me.”
“Oh, she knows your secrets, Aspasia!” The supermodel laughed. “This is a good start. She wasn’t always like this, you know.”
Anthousa loved to tell a story, and as she invited them to sit down, she didn’t hesitate to start on the tales of their illustrious careers. “We were just sixteen, when we first met, each with our own shitty situation to get out of. I won’t go into it, of course.” She uncorked a bottle of wine, the dust around its neck marking it as a vintage. “With our meagre wages, we were able to afford a shitty rental on the outskirts of Athens. Full of black mold, and you couldn’t swing a cat in there, but it motivated us.”
“We worked hard,” Aspasia interjected, politely waving her hand to refuse a glass. “Long days in the gym, awful, tasteless food. We didn’t drink alcohol for several years.”
“Long shifts too,” Anthousa went on. “We spent hours and hours just standing, wearing ridiculous dresses while people stuck pins in them. Hours and hours retouching makeup, drastic costume changes on very limited time. The agencies treated us like we were subhuman. Shipping us around like cargo, not giving us time to sleep, underpaying us. Not everybody is cut out for it, of course.”
“You were good at it though,” Kassandra noted, accepting a shallow measure. “Both of you were.”
“The very best,” said Anthousa, raising the bottle. “I created a very successful career and took over the agency. I was happy with that, but it wasn’t enough for our friend here. Aspasia moved into politics and finance, apparently intent on taking over the world.”
In truth, it was a matter of narrative and numbers. Anthousa took the bull of industry by its horns, and carved a fine story for herself. She climbed the ladder to the very top, and chased her old boss off her stage. Understandably, she was happy with that. Aspasia, on the other hand, was driven by metrics. She didn’t care about modelling, only the numbers in her bank account. She wanted to be rich, and she wanted to be formidable.
She charmed Perikles at a charity gala. When she married him, he gave her more in a month than she made in a year, but she had no intention of living off somebody else’s wealth. She piled her new money into the stock market, paying keen attention to the conversations in government. Her money multiplied, and soon she was a multi-millionaire in her own right. She invested more, in property, in gold, in offshore accounts.
She kept the rest of the story to herself. White collar crime wasn’t something to wear on her sleeve.
“Enough about us,” said Anthousa. “What brought you into marketing?”
“The same thing that brought you into modelling,” Kassandra confessed. “It’s a job. No child ever wakes up and says they want to be a marketer, do they?”
“It would take a very strange child, indeed.” Anthousa said.
“My mother was out of work for a very long time. She married my stepfather Nikolaos, he was a general in the military. We travelled a lot as kids, and she was out of work for a long time, because she could never keep a job for long enough. Things…fell through, and my brother Alexios and I had to kick him out. As a family, we were happier, but it left us in a tough financial situation. My mother is just now getting a lot of her qualifications. I wanted to be an athlete, but I had to help her pay the bills. I needed a full-time job, and Marketing was the first path that came up.” Kassandra sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She swilled her wine around at the bottom of her glass, holding it at the top. Her sleeves strained against her arms as she leaned, causing Aspasia a great distraction.
“Very noble, and very candid of you,” said Anthousa. “I’d half expected some bullshit about how it’s a modern, ever-changing field. Thank you for sparing us that.”
“There’s no point in lying to you, you’ve proven as much,” said Kassandra with a mirthless smile.
“It is a gruelling and competitive field, but I’m sure you’ll go far with a mentor like Aspasia,” she said.
“Thank you,” Kassandra said, setting her glass down, poorly hiding her doubt. “I hope to make the best PowerPoints in the world. If you don’t mind, Anthousa, where is your bathroom?”
“Down the hallway,” Anthousa pointed, suppressing her amusement. “Second door on the left.”
They watched her walk away, and once she was out of earshot, Anthousa spoke freely.
“I take it she’s more enthusiastic about you than she is about her work.”
“She sells herself short. She is talented, even if her attitude leaves something to be desired.” Aspasia clarified, but she was eager to cut to the chase. “What do you make of her?”
“The girl is after money, it’s understandable. But I think if she were after yours, she would keep her lack of enthusiasm very close to her chest. If I were her, I would have taken you to the cleaners already.” Anthousa said, and anybody could see she meant it.
“So would I. But she’s not like us.”
“A good thing, perhaps.” Anthousa leaned back into the arm of her chair. “But I understand you came here to discuss restructuring the company.” Aspasia confirmed with a nod. “Then you already have prospective enemies. If anybody finds out about this little affair, you’re finished. The world of finance is unforgiving, especially towards women.”
“It’s all about reputation, I’m aware.”
“I am genuinely glad to see you indulge for once, after all these years, but I would be no good friend if I didn’t warn you. Don’t for one second think the tabloids have forgotten you, Aspasia. For all those years, you carried a target on your back, but you gave them nothing to shout about. The moment you slip, they’ll be waiting in the wings.”
Anthousa didn’t need to say why. If they found out about the insider trading, people would call it typical. If they found out she was seeing a man so soon after her husband’s death, then eyebrows would be raised. If they found out she was seeing a woman, an employee, they would pounce.
She wasn't here to fret. The first order of business was struck off, and she could now broach the subject that weighed on her the most. She explained the situation within the business, how the businesses they bought were too small, and how the clients they lent to never paid them back. They needed to elevate their positioning, but the board wouldn’t change their ways.
“They’re useless,” Aspasia concluded. “I need to get rid of them all, every last one of them, but I need to know how to avoid a mutiny.”
It was then that Kassandra returned, blinking at them. The conversation was far from where she’d left it, but she was probably glad not to talk about her own field.
“You can’t,” said Anthousa, continuing regardless. “If you throw them out en-masse, workers in every team are going to start looking elsewhere. If the board’s jobs aren’t safe, why would theirs be?”
“The biggest cogs are the ones that need replacing. I can poach others, people I’ve worked with, people I know are my own.”
“Years around politics have gotten to your head. You sound like a tyrant.”
“I am a tyrant," said Aspasia.
“Can I get that in writing?” Kassandra asked. “I think it would be a great addition to the company newsletter. It’d look great on your LinkedIn profile, too.” If looks could kill, Aspasia would have ended her there, but Kassandra didn’t react. Anthousa’s lips curled inward as she stifled another laugh, but she quickly continued with business.
“Choose one of them, and make an example of them. That’s all you need to do,” said Anthousa. “The others will see that their status is no shield, and they’ll fall into line.”
“It’s not ideal,” the Director admitted. “But you’re right. It’s only a shame I can’t bring you with me. You would be perfect to lead the Acquisitions team, you know.”
“If I can’t poach you, then you can’t poach me,” said the supermodel. “Besides, I’m happy where I am. I wouldn’t give this job up for the world.”
They chatted for another couple of hours, sharing stories of the events that passed since their last meeting, and asked after old names. While Kassandra maintained interest for a while, and commented where she could, Aspasia was increasingly conscious of boring her.
“I think it’s best we make a move,” she said.
“You have plans this evening?” Anthousa stood, ready to see them off. “I won’t keep you, just don’t leave your next visit for so long.”
“You could always come to Athens,” Aspasia said, as they sauntered back to the front door, “or better yet, move your offices there.”
“Not a chance. Korinth is a city with a proud history. It is a city of love,” she boasted, pretentious as ever.
Aspasia smiled into the open air. Wise as she was, Anthousa could be overly sentimental. Korinth was a city of hedonism in the distant past, but now, its heart was its trade port.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Kassandra,” said Anthousa. “If ever you need me, don’t be afraid to get in touch, and don’t let Aspasia boss you around. If she gives you any trouble, you tell me. Understood?”
Kassandra smiled and nodded. “You’ll be the first to know, Anthousa.”
***
She left Anthousa’s with a lot to think about. First, there were the challenges awaiting her on Monday, but strangely, she didn’t want to mull over them now. It was easy not to, when Kassandra was around.
Anthousa didn’t seem too concerned about Kassandra’s motivations, and the evening only put Aspasia at further ease. Kassandra never asked where to put her money, or how much anything cost. Instead, she wanted to know which films Aspasia had seen, and where she liked most of the places she’d travelled. Most bizarrely, she wanted to know if she’d rather fight a horse-sized duck, or a hundred duck-sized horses. She wasn’t interested in business or wealth. She would politely nod when Aspasia spoke about her work, but she could see the light behind her eyes switch off. She even refused to let Aspasia buy her anything from room service, choosing instead to buy a four-pack of beer from the mini mart.
They spent the evening on the hotel decks, overlooking the Gulf of Korinth. The sunset’s amber glow danced over the waves, and the sea breeze brought calmness with it. Aspasia had no idea how to be casual, but Kassandra was so easy to talk to. When gaps came in their conversation, she filled them with ease. She told her a story about the time she and her brother filled their water bottles with stolen vodka, and took them into school. They were throwing up by the lunch break, and strangely, Aspasia caught herself laughing louder than she had in a long time.
Her thoughts wandered over the bonds she’d known through the years. Her friendship with Anthousa was forged in flames. They’d suffered and grafted together, and they would always have each other’s back. Her marriage with Perikles had no spark, but he was a dear friend who she saw near every day, and his absence affected her more than she cared to admit. But Kassandra brought something else. After the nerves of their introduction wore off, she spoke to Aspasia the same way she’d speak to a casual friend. Although her constant jokes could be irritating, they made her feel more human than she had in a long time.
As they made their way back inside, she became aware of a growing softness in her chest, and her instinct was to throttle it. She pushed her feelings aside and pushed her onto the mattress. Kassandra welcomed her with eager hands, and Aspasia kissed her roughly, leaving no space for words.