Soul Mates (8 page)

“You want me to check him out?” Convinced it was the same man, Cassandra was already building a case against him. She was eager to share her findings with her too-trusting old aunt.

“No…not exactly,” he frowned at her, obviously taken aback by her enthusiasm. “But you’ll be spending a bit of time with Sophia over the next while. You could ask her questions, maybe meet this guy. If we knew his name we could learn a lot about him. I’ll get Dave Hillson from the police department to run a check on him. He owes me a favor.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. I can do that,” she replied, happy to do what her father asked. Still, her mind raced ahead with ideas of her own.
A police check could turn up nothing. This guy might not have a criminal record, but that doesn’t mean he’s above being dishonest or trying to con Aunt Sophia. If I could plan to run into him again…not let him know I’m associated with her…maybe flirt a bit.
She felt an immediate distaste, yet knowing it was for a worthy cause, continued with her plan.
He knows I have money; I can’t pretend otherwise. But if he’s the lowlife I think he is, he’ll jump at the chance to get to know me. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll let down his guard so I can get the evidence
we need.

JACE HAD PLANS of his own on Saturday, but given his new arrangement with Sophie, he decided to see if she needed him to drive her anywhere. She had a hair appointment at one, and again she urged him to take the vehicle rather than wait on her. Reveling in the freedom, he stopped by Chad’s place and decided to have some fun. As he pulled into the driveway of the semidetached rental that Chad shared with his younger brother, Jace saw his friend under the hood of his car. Chad looked up to see who was pulling in the driveway and did a double take at seeing Jace behind the wheel.

“Whose car?” he asked, wiping his hands on a rag as he walked toward him.

“Mine,” Jace smirked. “Just bought’er.”

“Really?” Chad frowned. “Whad’ya do, win the lottery?”

Jace continued smiling, saying nothing.

Chad opened the passenger door and looked inside, sizing up the vehicle. “Six-speed manual, leather, sunroof…whoa, nice sound system!” He looked at Jace. “Seriously? You bought this?”

Jace couldn’t keep a straight face. “Okay, not exactly,” he laughed.

“It’s not hot, is it?”

“No! Are you kidding?”

“So whered’ya get it then?”

As Jace told the story, he braced himself for the inevitable smart-ass comeback about driving Miss Daisy. Chad’s response surprised him.

“You’re a lucky son of a bitch,” he shook his head. “I can’t believe she lets you drive it around like this.”

“She’s the one who suggested it,” Jace shrugged. “I couldn’t believe it, either.”

“The old broad must have plenty of dough to spare if she buys a brand new car and hires a dipshit like you to drive it,” Chad teased.

“I’m not sure; she’s hard to figure out.” Jace ignored his friend’s jab.

“Could be like my great-grandma,” Chad suggested. “She went kind of crazy before they put her in a nursing home. Started spending her money on all kinds of stuff she didn’t need. My grandpa became power of attorney and took away her bankbook and rights to her own money. I always felt kind of sorry for her, ya know? I think old people should be allowed to spend their money on whatever they want. They worked hard for it. She only lasted a year after that and was never the same, either.”

The idea of someone taking away Sophie’s rights and shutting her away in a nursing home was deplorable. Jace hoped that would never happen. “Maybe you’re right.” He pondered his friend’s suggestion. “Maybe she’s spending whatever money she has left. Can’t take it with her; she may as well enjoy it.”

“Looks like you’re getting to enjoy it, too, my friend,” Chad remarked, gazing enviously at the new car. “Plus she pays you for this? Better hope she sticks around for a while.”

“I don’t think she’s ready to croak yet.” Jace laughed, feeling a little guilty talking about Sophie that way. He’d never admit it to Chad, but she was more than just a source of extra cash. He had a soft spot for the kind old woman.

“If you believe that you must work hard in order to deserve the money that comes to you, then money cannot come to you unless you do work hard. Financial success, or any other kind of success, does not require hard work. It does require alignment of thought. You simply cannot offer negative thought about things that you desire and then make up for it with action or hard work. When you learn to direct your own thoughts, you will discover the true leverage of Energy Alignment.”

---Abraham-Hicks

CHAPTER 6

JACE HAD a few errands to run before he picked Sophie up, but he was back with time to spare. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. She might reconsider letting him use her car in the future if he inconvenienced her in that way.

She had another stop to make before he took her home. Since she’d only be five minutes, Jace waited in the car, familiarizing himself with the multi-information display. The touch screen provided hands-free access to phone calls, text messages, and even e-mails. He was flipping through the manual to learn how to program his cell phone into the interactive system when she returned.

Looking at him with a smile, and in a pretentious voice so unlike her own, she instructed, “Home, Jace.”

He laughed at the old woman’s humor.
It must make her feel important, like she’s got money again,
he decided,
to pretend that I’m her chauffeur and the car’s a Rolls Royce instead of a mid-class import.
He was even more convinced that there was truth to Chad’s suggestion. She’d obviously had money at one time in her life. For whatever reason, she’d been reduced to living a simple life and had learned how to scrimp and save. Now, as she neared the end of her life, she wanted to experience some of the luxuries she’d once known. He couldn’t blame her. In fact, he admired her. If she wanted to pretend he was her chauffeur, he’d play the part.

Jace saw her up to her apartment, and as usual she invited him in for tea. He had time to kill, so he accepted. As she busied herself in the kitchen, he took off his jacket, put the car key on the small table by the door, and perched on a stool by the kitchen counter. He was comfortable around Sophie now, and though they hadn’t talked much more about her strange beliefs, the questions had been building. “Sophie, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Of course, Jace.” She turned to him. “You can ask me anything.”

“When we first met, you talked about focus, getting what I expect out of life, and being in control. I don’t know…it’s weird,” Jace hesitated. “Part of me wants to argue that that’s not true. In fact, it really pissed me off…sorry,” he apologized for his language. “It made me mad at first, but the more I think about it, the more it seems stuff like that
should
be true, like that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“It is the way it’s supposed to be,” Sophie smiled. “It’s the way it
is
.”

“But how does it work? I don’t understand.”

Sophie poured him some tea. “Have you ever heard people in the financial world talk about leverage?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jace looked at her strangely. “It’s using other people’s money to make money.” He wasn’t sure whether she was answering his question or whether she’d moved on to another topic. She was kind of odd that way.

“Well, what you can do with focus, compared to what you can accomplish with your own efforts,” Sophie explained, “is the same idea.”

“You’re going to have to expand on that,” he frowned.

“I’ll give you an example,” Sophie replied. “Let’s say you want a new car. You know how much it costs. You know how much you make every month. If you’re relying on your own efforts, you sit down and make a plan to put a certain amount away every month, or maybe you go to the bank and apply for a loan, hoping your credit rating is good enough. You can calculate how long it will take to get the car you want. And it will probably happen eventually,” she paused, “if all goes as planned.”

“But that’s the thing,” Jace interrupted. “We don’t have control over the unknown.”

“Exactly. That’s why that way doesn’t work.” The old woman sipped her tea. “People struggle and struggle and barely get ahead by those kinds of efforts.”

“So what’s the alternative—to borrow other people’s money?” Jace was thoroughly confused.

“The alternative is to change your focus. Change the story you’re so valiantly telling. Expand your expectations. You can learn from the rich, you know.”

Jace noticed a twinkle in Sophie’s eye before she turned away to set her cup on the counter. “What are the rich going to teach me?” he asked, his frustration evident. “How to take advantage of the little guy?”

“They’re not all like that, Jace,” she replied, maintaining her sweet, even tone.

“Maybe not,” he conceded respectfully. “But I don’t see what I could possibly learn from them.”

“Listen to the stories they tell; notice what their focus is on; see how they expect wealth to come to them,” she replied. “If you want to be like them, you’ll have to start thinking like them.”

Jace’s frustration increased. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he declared. “I do want to be rich one day, but I’ll never be like they are—taking advantage of those who don’t have as much.”

“Then just don’t focus on that aspect of them,” she said simply.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Jace regretted giving in, but he was done.
I’m not spending my Saturday afternoon arguing with an old lady,
he grumbled silently. “I should go. I’m meeting my friends later.”

“It was nice talking with you, Jace.”

“Do you need me to drive you anywhere tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “I’m expecting company. But thank you for asking.”

Jace left her apartment, relieved yet still full of questions. Sophie’s words made sense, yet they stirred him up and left him confused.
Is it possible to become rich by thinking like they do?
he wondered.
Can I learn from them even though they’re arrogant assholes?
The questions continued to pull at him for the remainder of the afternoon.

Maybe Sophie knows what she’s talking about,
he speculated later as he walked to Chad’s place.
If she was rich once, that is. But why isn’t she rich now if she knows the secret? Does she live this way by choice or is there something screwy in what she believes?
He preferred to think that it was by choice and not the fault of the belief itself. Like it or not, he was invested in what she was telling him. More than ever, he wanted it to be true.

WITH A CLEAR PLAN in mind, Cassandra left the Town House, Sunday morning. She was dressed more casually than she had been on previous visits with her aunt, and though her father had left the keys to her mother’s Bentley, she took a cab instead.

After instructing the driver to park across the street from her aunt’s building, Cassandra remained in the back seat, donned her dark glasses, and waited. She’d brought along the latest copy of her company’s magazine but didn’t open it, not wanting to take her eyes off the front door in case she missed him.

She was filled with nervous excitement. It wasn’t the first time she’d played the spy. After hearing a rumor that Nick was cheating, she and Tanisha had followed him one night. Driving a borrowed car and wearing ridiculous disguises, they’d giggled like children as they maintained what they’d deemed to be an appropriate distance behind Nick’s vehicle. At first it seemed like a game, but it quickly turned into a painful reality as they discovered the rumor was true. Shaking off the unpleasant memories, Cassandra checked her watch. It had been twenty-five minutes. She didn’t know how much longer she was willing to wait or whether she’d see him, but she had a plan in mind if she did.