This Square Peg.

Despite Jupiter’s promise, none of us had any intention of staying in the area. A few days after the confrontation, Laura vacated her La Jolla condominium. She settled on a ranch in Billings, Montana, which provided plenty of space for my dog, Jack Russell, who would stay with his new friend until it was time to collect him. I was sure he didn’t mind. Spall also found a place near Laura but spent most of his evenings enjoying her dinners and keeping his customary watchful eye over her.  

As for Cassiopeia and me, we joined Laura in Billings but only for our wedding in the local courthouse and a few weeks afterward. We planned on embracing the nomadic lifestyle with my severance pay from The Jupiter Alliance before deciding on where we would settle down, likely close to Laura.

Speaking of The Jupiter Alliance: Hannah Jupiter, along with the Board of Directors, forced Zachary Jupiter out of the company as the CEO and removed anyone on the senior staff with loyalties to him. His whereabouts were known: in their home, eternally watched and monitored. I also learned, unsurprisingly, that most of the 28th floor had been removed from the company. The last piece of information I learned, one that would stay with me for a long time, was that Hannah Jupiter had created a victims’ fund for everyone adversely impacted by the anti-fraternization policy. Its name: the Ballard and Marnie Keene Trust. 

*

On our wedding day, she wore a crown of wildflowers. The train of her flowing white gown (“Grecian style,” my new mother-in-law had informed me with a smile) was also covered in flowers as Spall walked her down the aisle. As our eyes met, as she advanced toward me, my heart was seconds from bursting. Moments after Spall handed her to me and before the court official began the vows, Cassiopeia leaned over. “I love you,” she whispered in my ear. I repeated the words back to her, stopping myself from saying them more than once. We had a lifetime for me to utter those words and I intended on taking that long to utter them.

Our vows finished, the bride kissed, I reached out to caress her cheek, slightly in awe that we were now husband and wife. Unlike my recurring dream, however, my fingers met no stars on her skin. And yet, when Cassiopeia pulled me toward her in a long, beautiful embrace, I maintain, I profess, that I saw galaxies.  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thanks for hanging in with Cassiopeia and Elliott and the rest for this story. I enjoyed writing it, as I mentioned in the beginning, if only for the chance to throw in some Greek myth-inspired allegory and a bit of suspense along the way. Did you catch the references?

It was a pleasure to share with you. Onwards…to the next tale I choose to share.

Bon Thursday.

Cassiopeia quickly approached our group, her eyes clouded in confusion and alarm as she observed her mother pointing at her father. “What is this?” she asked when she reached me. “Elliott, why didn’t you tell me you were coming here? The house was empty. I thought he had taken all of you. I—” Her voice trailed off. I had an idea what she had come to Jupiter’s office to do but refused to give it any further thought. We were all desperate right now, all willing to do anything to save the people we loved.

I drew her toward me, softly kissing her on the forehead. “I had to do something. I had to.”

“He will kill you,” she whispered.

“The jury is still out on that,” I replied softly, smiling at her.

“I hate to interrupt you lovebirds but everyone in this room now has a target on their back,” Jupiter boomed.

We both looked up. I saw something flash in Jupiter’s eyes, something imperceptible, as he rested his attention on his daughter. It quickly disappeared and was replaced by his usual cold glower. “Glad you could stop by, my dear,” he said to Cassiopeia. “Your mother is presently blackmailing me. She claims I’ll never see you again if I don’t remove my policies and let you all go. Ineffectual. I knew where you were when you removed your microphone and disappeared. I knew where all of you were. But I waited because you always come to your senses. You always do the right thing. It’s sad that I’ll have to lose you, that all these other people will lose their lives, too.”

“My God, Zachary, you’re a monster,” Laura said.

Cassiopeia approached the platform toward her father, her features now covered in rage. I gently pulled her back. If anything was going to happen to any of us, she would be my side, next to me. “This has gone on too long,” I said. “Spall, please.”

Nodding, Spall pushed open the door to the private entrance.

She seemed to glide into the room.

Tall, stately, brimming with authority. This time, I saw an emotion on his face that was undeniable and likely the first time any of us had witnessed said emotion when it came to Zachary Jupiter: fear.  

Hannah Jupiter held up her hand when Jupiter opened his mouth to speak. “First, call off Waylon.” She had a commanding voice of her own, not a roar, but no less powerful with its deep, husky tone.

We watched her husband acquiesce without hesitation, pressing the button the phone again and dismissing the enforcer. Had he ever done anything without hesitation, I wondered, other than destroying the lives of the people that worked for him?

“You’ve been having innocent people hurt for engaging in less damaging behavior than you,” Hannah Jupiter said. “I suspected as much for some time, but when Timothy reached out to me, I confirmed things for myself. I have people that work for me, too.”

I watched Jupiter squirm. The man squirmed.

“Rebuking you for bringing other women into our lives affected only you and I,” Hannah continued. “Learning that you were punishing other people for your sins was revolting. The anti-fraternization policy is over.”  

Her words rang in my ears, throughout the office, and seemed to echo within every corner. I looked at Cassiopeia, whose eyes were trained on Hannah.  

“You will right these wrongs, Zachary. Start now. Say what needs to be said.”

“Hannah—”

“Zachary, if I have to ask again, I will release all of this information to the press to your lasting ruination. Say what needs to be said.”

Jupiter glared at me, Spall, Laura, and lastly, Cassiopeia. “None of you will be harmed.” He seemed to be speaking directly, and only, to his daughter. “You’re all free to go.”

Hannah rested her eyes on Cassiopeia. “I heard everything outside the private entrance. He’s your father.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.

Cassiopeia nodded.

“I was told the business needed to grow,” Hannah said, looking back at Jupiter. “That having children wasn’t in the cards for us. And there you are.”

“There are more of us,” Cassiopeia replied. “Many right here on this floor.”

Hannah’s head turned sharply toward Jupiter.

He didn’t look at her.

We left them like this.

I stood abruptly, certain that one of Crew Cut’s biceps alone could kill all of us and not caring in the least.

“It’s ok, El. He’s on our side,” Cassiopeia said.

“How? He warned me about you. He told me not to trust you.” I quickly relayed what happened at the dog park.

“I told him to tell you all those things,” Cassiopeia said after I was finished.

I gaped at her. “What? Why?”

“After that day in the restaurant I had to protect you somehow. If you were told to stay away from me and you did, perhaps they would think you didn’t have feelings for me, after all. Maybe they would leave you alone.”

“For the record, he did everything I told him to do. He stayed away,” Crew Cut pointed out to Cassiopeia as he approached the dining area. “But you still came after him.”  

“I panicked when I didn’t see him at the morning meeting. I thought they had taken him,” she said.

“Hate to interrupt, but who are you?” I asked Crew Cut. “How do you know that I ‘did everything’ you told me to do?” 

Crew Cut offered his hand to me. Reluctantly, I shook it.  “Timothy Spall. I was once an enforcer on Jupiter’s team. I went rogue, as it were. Harming people for dating each other just wasn’t my thing.” He then walked over to Laura and pecked her on the cheek. “Hi, Miss Laura.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Have you eaten?” she asked him.

“Yes, but I can always eat again.”

“There’s lasagna in the oven.”

I looked from one person to the other, jarred by the seemingly normal turn in conversation when far more pressing topics hung in the air. “You were saying, Spall?” I asked impatiently.

He turned from the oven and glanced at me. “Oh, right. I knew you did everything I told you to do because you’re not stupid. I could tell. But I also tapped into the security mainframe in the building the next day. I could see you in your office, not answering the door when she knocked. You were determined. You took days off. You listened to me. Simple as that.” He then resumed with making his plate.

Nothing about this entire situation was simple, but I sat back down, resigned. 

“When he was on the team, Timothy could tell that the work I was doing for Jupiter was ruining me,” Cassiopeia said, sliding her hand into mine.

“Because it was ruining me too,” Spall added, sitting down at the table with a heaping plate of lasagna. “I could see her falling apart because I was falling apart. We struck up a friendship. Keep in mind that agents aren’t friends. But we were. Anyway, when she received this new assignment and then told me about you, I knew she couldn’t do it. She liked you immediately.”

“Were either of you concerned about trust when you became friends, that one person could rat the other out?” I asked, curious.

Spall shook his head. “She is the most genuine person I know. I knew I could trust her, especially when I went off the grid a year ago and the team was hunting me down.”

“That day at the dog park: was I being watched?”

“One operative was watching you. When you called your dog over, he left. He wouldn’t gain anything from watching you and your pet.”

I mulled over another question. “But weren’t you concerned that they would see you?”

“Taking care of myself has never been a problem,” Spall replied before digging into his food.

I left the matter alone.

*

Later, while Laura and Spall quietly conversed in the dining area, Cassiopeia and I stood outside on the balcony. A mild breeze wandered around us; the evening was luminous, courtesy of the stars above our heads and the bright lights within the complex.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked me.

“If they’ve been watching me outside the office, they’ve been following us all day. From Palm Springs to here at your mother’s house. I’m just—aren’t you worried that they’ll burst in here, guns blazing?” I asked.

Cassiopeia shook her head. “No. I called them off before I arrived at your house. I made up something about taking care of you myself. Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help it,” I said. I was riddled with worry. “And I have to ask: how can your mother live right in town when your father can just get to her?”

“Spall wasn’t wrong earlier. He would never harm her.”

But imminent disaster still loomed around us. What was the end game to all of this? Cassiopeia had chosen me over everything: her job, her father, the punishments that would surely come. Where were we going now? What would happen next?

“You’re still worried,” Cassiopeia said, reading me as she was prone to do. She looked up at me, the moonlight around us radiating in her eyes.

Rather than elaborate, I placed my arm around her and told her I was fine. We stood like this for a while, my thoughts mounting despite being the comfort of being right where I wanted to be.