Soul Mates

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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Watier, Jeane, 1963-

Soul Mates / Jeane Watier.

ISBN 978-0-9877179-5-5

I. Title.

PS8645.A846S68 2013 C813’.6 C2013-900701-6

All characters, events, and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by: Novel Ink, Calgary, AB  www.novel-ink.com

Cover design and layout by: Serenity Design Concepts

While the story is a product of my active imagination, the truths contained in this book are based on the teachings of Abraham, channelled by Esther Hicks. It is my desire to share the understanding that I have gained from Abraham, and point others to the wonderful nonphysical teacher that I have come to know and love.

www.abraham-hicks.com

Thank you, Esther, for allowing Abraham (and now Jerry) to speak through you, addressing the questions on so many minds, for helping us stand on the leading edge with confidence and knowing, for preparing us to be the teachers and uplifters we came here to be.

Continuing thanks to my husband, Ron, and many friends and family members whose love and support means more to me than words can convey.

Jeane Watier

CHAPTER 1

JACE CLIMBED the steps to his apartment building, his arms full of groceries. Shifting the bags awkwardly, he pulled open the front door as Chad called out his name. Jace turned to see his friend crossing the street toward him.

“Hey, buddy,” Chad grinned. “You’re gonna love me.”

“In your dreams,” Jace retorted absently, holding the door with his foot while he readjusted his load.

“You’re gonna bow down and worship me.”

“Do you mind helping me?” Jace asked, ignoring the last comment. A bag was slipping, and he hoped it wasn’t the one with the eggs.

Chad caught it before it fell, then followed Jace up two flights of stairs. In his apartment, Jace set the groceries on the counter and took the third bag from his friend. Finally his curiosity got the better of him. “Okay, what is it? What’s so great?”

“I got us tickets for tomorrow night’s game.”

“Seriously?” Jace beamed. “How’d you score those? I heard people were paying as much as five hundred bucks for playoff tickets.”

“Carla’s dad,” Chad replied matter-of-factly as he helped himself to a beer from Jace’s refrigerator. “A guy he works with owed him a favor or something. Her dad was planning to go, but he was called out of town at the last minute.”

“Sweet.”

“I’m gonna need cash up front, though.”

“What?” Jace grimaced, suddenly knowing it was too good to be true. “How much?”

“They were a steal—a hundred bucks apiece. Said he had people offering him two.”

“I don’t know, man,” Jace sighed. “I’m tapped out till payday.”

“You can’t be serious!” Chad exclaimed. “I mean, I can sell your ticket easy and make a tidy profit, but you don’t want to miss this. If they win tonight, tomorrow night’s game could be the final. We’d have prime seats.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jace couldn’t hide his frustration.

“Hey, chill. Just get a payday loan. It’s easy.”

Easy for you,
Jace vented silently.
Your
parents bail you out every time you get in
over
your head
.
As he turned away, pretending to arrange items in the fridge, he exhaled heavily. He didn’t like feeling jealous. It wasn’t Chad’s fault. Life had thrown Jace unexpected curves. His parents had spent all their savings when his dad was sick, and Jace had had to quit school. Now that his dad was gone, his mom lived on a meager income. Jace helped her as much as he could; he couldn’t stand to see her do without. But it meant he didn’t have money for extras, and his debt was starting to escalate. His bank account was overdrawn. The groceries he was putting away had been bought on credit.

He did his best to ignore the growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He hated being broke. He was tired of living paycheck to paycheck and going deeper into debt every month. He had big dreams, but lately he hadn’t let himself think about them, they were too unrealistic.

Jace had never hidden his circumstances from Chad. They’d been friends since childhood. Nevertheless, Chad didn’t understand. He couldn’t relate to the financial bondage, the ever-increasing weight on Jace’s shoulders.

As his friend stood waiting for a response, Jace knew what he needed to do. Like it or not, it was the responsible thing to do. He turned down the ticket.

“Okay, pal. Whatever,” Chad shrugged. “You still coming by to watch the game tonight?”

“Yeah,” Jace nodded, feeling defeated. “See you later.”

After Chad left, Jace finished putting the groceries away. He opened a beer for himself and paced back and forth in his small kitchen, trying to justify his decision.
I can always watch the game on TV. The crowds would be nuts, anyway. If they win, it’ll be pandemonium in the stadium, and if they lose, there’ll be thousands of disgruntled fans
.

It was no use. No amount of justifying would ease his frustration and disappointment. He wanted to go. It wasn’t simply the chance to see the big game live; it was much more than that. It represented all that he wanted in life, all that seemed to be just beyond reach.

Suddenly frustration turned to anger. “Damn it!” He slammed his fist down on the counter. “I deserve to go. I work hard, and what the hell do I have to show for it?” The anger edged him on, challenging him to action. “What’s a little more debt?” he sighed, knowing he’d probably regret his decision. Before he could change his mind, he grabbed the phone and dialed Chad’s cell, hoping it wasn’t too late.

CASSANDRA TURNED to her friend, beaming. “They’re absolutely perfect! I wanted a pair in this color. They’ll match the dress I bought in Paris last month. I haven’t worn it yet because none of my shoes were just right.”

“They’re fabulous,” Tanisha agreed. “Why don’t you wear the dress to the club, Friday? Wow all the guys and make Nick jealous.”

“I don’t want to make him jealous. We’re done. I don’t want anything to do with him. I was the one who broke up with him. Remember?”

“Yes, because he’s a lying, cheating son of a bitch,” Tanisha pointed out.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“That’s why you need to show up looking like a million bucks and flirt with everyone but him,” Tanisha insisted. “He’ll realize what he lost—maybe even come crawling back to you, sniveling and apologetic. You’ll have the satisfaction of blowing him off in front of his friends.”

“As appealing as that sounds,” Cassandra responded dryly, “I think I’ll pass.” She was angry with Nick; he’d hurt her deeply, but revenge wasn’t her style. Neither was going to the club to flirt. None of the guys there interested her. She was tired of the dating scene. All men were alike, it seemed—at least the ones she’d met. Rich, handsome, successful yet so into themselves, their money, and their toys that they had no room for anyone else in their lives.

“I’m thinking about getting away this weekend,” Cassandra informed her friend. “It’s been months since I’ve been home. A quiet, relaxing weekend in Port Hayden would do me a world of good.”

“Your parents are still there? I thought they’d be at the summer house already.”

“No, they haven’t left yet. I talked to my dad last weekend. He sounded worried about Aunt Sophia.”

“Is she sick?”

“Apparently she blacked out, and someone took her to the hospital. She wasn’t admitted, though, and she claims she’s okay now. The woman is eighty-seven and still living on her own. Daddy wants her to move in with them, but Mother says she’d be better off in a care home. The problem is, Aunt Sophia doesn’t want to move; she’s very strong willed.”

“She’s always been eccentric, too, hasn’t she? Wasn’t she married to a Count?”

“He was a British Lord. I never really knew him; he died when I was young. You’re right, though. She’s always been a little different. Ahead of her time, really. Drove her own car at fifteen. Got her pilot’s license when she was twenty-one. She was an activist, too, marching in political demonstrations, joining hunger strikes. She even went to jail once.”

“Really?”

“Just overnight, but it caused quite a stir in the social circles. Lady Sophia Langdon in jail!” Cassandra smiled at the thought. Her aunt was one of the wealthiest women in Port Hayden, yet you wouldn’t know it to look at her. She lived in an older apartment building in the city’s eclectic downtown core, and although she’d driven a car for most of her life, now insisted on walking or taking public transit. The family had tried to persuade her to hire a driver, but she’d scoffed at the idea. Cassandra didn’t know whether it was a dislike for money or simply what money stood for that caused her to live the way she did. She had to admit, however, that her aunt seemed genuinely happy.

Cassandra couldn’t imagine not enjoying the comforts money provided. She’d always had all a girl could want. Growing up in a city that was home to some of the oldest wealth on the East Coast, she’d gone to private schools, spent summers at the beach, traveled, ate, and shopped as her heart desired.

Her mother’s life was a minuet, an elegant social dance, complete with fashionable charity work, endless society functions, and the responsibility of running a large household with servants. Her father, a powerful and well-respected man, sat at the helm of a multinational corporation, a company his grandfather had single-handedly built after emigrating from Europe and settling in what was now Port Hayden.

Cassandra had opted for a career, as did the majority of women her age. For most, it was about status. It gave the older generation something to brag about, something with which to compare their children. For Cassandra, it was about passion. She’d always loved writing. Once she got her journalism degree, she’d set her sights on one of the biggest magazines in the country. Her father had used his influence to get her the job, but her talent and zeal were responsible for her advancement in the company. She’d worked hard to prove herself. Now she was an assistant editor and loving it.