Cassidy's Curse

Chelsea Dionne Keaten was born in a small town in East Texas, with no money, and a father who left her mother during pregnancy. Her whole life she struggled to be more than what she was born into, and somehow, she'd made it to Hollywood. The beautiful buxom blond, with stunning blue eyes, and a sex kitten mouth. She'd started her career, by posing in nude magazines, and having sex with various men, and sometimes women, for the porn industry. It was during that time that she met Gary Shantz.

Shantz was known around Hollywood as a hard nosed, cocaine addicted, tough guy, who somehow managed to find washed up hookers acting jobs in legit films. It was on the set her latest conquest, that he discovered Chelsea Keaton, and her beautiful, if somewhat used, body. It was Shantz who introduced the white powder to Chelsea, and it was Shantz who found her unconscious, face covered in white powder and naked as the day she was born.

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Cassidy's phone rang at 3:00 in the morning waking her from a rather pleasant dream where she was just about to start a sexy lip lock with Johnny Depp. She fumbled for the light, and cursed when she knocked the phone off the night table. With her eyes closed, and still picturing the gorgeous Johnny Depp, she finally answered the phone with a very gruff mumble.

"Is this Cassidy Dawn Keaton," a rather prim voice came through the phone.

"Yes...um, yes, this is Cassidy. Who is this?"

"Miss Keaton, this is Beverly Mace with the Las Angeles Police Department. Apparently, your sister has been found unconscious from an apparent drug overdose. At this time, she's alive-"

"I beg your pardon, my sister?"

"Yes, you do have a sister, one Chelsea Dean also known as Chelsea Keaton, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, you just caught me by surprise. I haven't heard from or seen my sister in about 12 years. Please, tell me what happened again." Sitting up in her bed, she pulled the comforter to her chin for comfort, more than warmth.

"Ms. Keaton was found at approximately 11:30 pm last night. She's currently in Intensive Care at the Las Angeles Hope Hospital, under an alias name of Gina Coy. As of this time, she's listed in stable condition. Miss Keaton, I'm sorry, but the doctors asked that her next of kin be called in; they don't expect her to make it."

"Oh my God." Tears ran unnoticed down Cassidy's cheeks as she tried to remember the sister that she never really had. They'd shared a womb together, but other than that, had virtually nothing in common. Cassidy wanted a family, love, children, and a stable home; whereas Chelsea wanted adventure, money, and fame. "Um, I will be on the next plane there. Where is she again?" Stumbling to her desk, she found three pencils with broken lead, and a pen with no ink before she finally found a highlighter that semi worked. She jotted down directions and address, and a phone number to call when she arrived. Hanging up the phone, she turned on her computer as she mentally shifted her finances around trying to come up with the money for the trip. Her rich and famous sister had conveniently forgotten all about her family when she ran away from home at 15, and had never sent a cent home to her mother or sister.

Grabbing her comforter from her bed, Cassidy plopped down onto a rather abused 1970's orange chair, and pulled her lap top onto her lap. She scanned the screen as she searched for the earliest flight to Las Angeles, and cringed at the prices. I'm going to have to ask for an advance for this one....Charles is NOT going to be happy. Thinking ahead, and mentally preparing herself for the lecture, she dialed Charles Finnegan's home number, then winced at the gruff sound of sleep interrupted.

"Mr. Finnegan...uh...this is Cassidy, I'm sorry to wake you, but I have an emergency."

"Eh? Cassie? Do you know what time it is?" The sound in his voice led her to believe that he still wasn't aware that he was actually talking on the phone.

"Yes, I'm so sorry. Look, it's my sister, she's in the hospital. I have to go to her."

"Ah. Cass, I'm coming up."

The sound of the phone being disconnected cut off any protest Cassidy could think of. With a sigh, she hung up the phone and stalked to the door.

Charles Finnegan was 62 years old, and had lived in Texas his entire life. He'd worked hard to build his book store, and had led a life of adventure, even if it was all in books. Age didn't slow Charles down, and it certainly didn't show on his face. He was short for a man, about 5'6, and robust, with a small ring of bright red hair wrapped around his otherwise bald head. He had a full red beard, and both hair and beard were finally beginning to thread with silver. His soft green eyes were surrounded by faint wrinkles and supported by rosy, almost cherubic cheeks. He claimed his daily pipe filled with black cherry tobacco kept him young, that and the shot of Irish Whiskey he had every night before bed. He's married young, and was still in love with his wife as though they'd just met. They were never blessed with children of their own, and took it upon themselves to help those who didn't have parents. He'd adopted 5 children all together, and had raised each one to be strong, good people. He was the proud grandfather of 14 grandchildren, all of varying ages, and felt the need to share photos with any stranger passing by.

He'd hired Sandra10 years before as a clerk for his bookstore, and with Sandra, came Cassidy. He'd remembered how young she was, and how he introduced her to the magical worlds that existed between the cover of a book. When her mother died 3 years later, he took Cassidy in without so much as a thought, and yet the girl still insisted on calling him Mr. Finnegan.

He huffed up the stairs on the outside of his bookstore up to the one bedroom apartment he rented to Cassidy. Through the curtain he saw her pacing the rooms, and from the looks of it, causing a disaster of a mess in the process. He didn't bother to knock, and just opened the door, inwardly cursing the girl for never locking the door.

"Cassie, you didn't lock the door again. Come now girl, what seems to be the problem? What's this about your sister?" He sat heavily onto a tattered wooden chair and patted the mate next to him.

"I..I got a call from Las Angeles. My sister, Chelsea, well, it seems that she's overdosed, and they requested I come there. I don't know what to do Mr. Finnegan, I haven't seen her since we were 15." Looking around the room at the mess she'd made, and the half packed suitcase, Charles heaved a sigh, and stood to face her.

"Cassie, my girl, what do you need? If it's money, all you have to do is ask, and you know that."

Cassidy blew a breath between her lips, causing her bangs to fly. "Yes, I know, but it's just not fair! If I'd gotten that book deal, instead of another decline letter...well, that's neither here nor there. Mr. Finnegan, I need to go to her."

Patting her hand, Charles grinned up at her, "You know, I remember when you were a bit shorter than me. Yes, you'll have the money. Come down in the morning, and I'll have it for you. Don't forget to call when you get there, and if there's anything you'll be needing, well, I'm here."

Cassidy leaned down to hug the only father she'd ever known, and kissed his already red cheek. "You do know I love you, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, if you loved me you'd stop calling Mr. Finnegan."

At her laugh, he only grinned and headed to the door. "You best be getting some sleep, Las Angeles isn't that close, and you'll be needing your strength."

"I know, thank you....Charlie." Her whispered response caused him only a moments hesitation, and as he walked down the steps, he felt a grin spread over his face full of pride and love. What was he going to do with that girl?

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Cassidy's first plane trip was not as she'd have expected. It seemed that the plane shook and rattled more than it flew smoothly, and she was certain that it was going to fall from the sky any minute. She was sure that she'd left indentions in the seat where she'd held on for dear life, and when the plane made it's descent, she prayed for a safe landing. Her legs wobbled as she walked from the plane to the luggage claim, and she caught herself amazed at the sheer size of the airport and all of the people crowded into it.

There were men and women in tidy suits holding up little signs with names on them, some of which she guessed were aliases for some star. She kept walking and almost walked past the little man with twinkling eyes holding a sign with her name on it.

"Excuse me, is that for me?"

The little man grinned broadly, and said in what she could only guess was a british accent, "If you're Cassidy Keaton, I'll be your driver. The name's Westly, and I'm here to take you to the hotel, and to the hospital." Westly placed his hand on the small of her back, and escorted her to the luggage area. He gently ushered her against a wall as he went in search of her luggage.

Cassidy watched the comings and goings of the people. The styles of clothing, the sounds of voices, mingled with the ringing of phones, and yells of limosine drivers attempting to gather luggage. Her eyes widened when she spotted a driver lugging what appeared to be 15 pieces of luggage behind him on a trolley. She imagined a movie star, or famous musician was the owner of that much luggage, and it most definitely had to be a female. She was about to create a story in her head when she saw Westly heading towards her with her single suitcase that still looked too new.

Her first ride in a limo was much better than her flight. She felt like a child swinging her head from side to side as if trying to take in the sights all at once. She saw big fancy hotels, and boutiques, and everyone seemed to be beautiful walking on the sidewalks. She saw what appeared to be a crowd of photographers outside a restaurant and assumed someone famous was dining inside. Before she knew it, the driver was pulling up in front of a very expensive looking hotel.

"Um, Westly, this isn't my hotel. There isn't a way I can afford a place like this." She felt her face flame with heat of embarrassment at the realization of what she'd just said.

As if he hadn't heard a word she'd said, Westly just grinned at the girl, and opened her door. Taking her hand, he gently removed her from the car, and grabbed her suitcase in the other hand.

"There's no need to worry, Miss. I was assured that you'll be staying here, and all of your expenses will be paid by your sister's account. I'll have you escorted to your suite, and I'll be back in an hour to take you to the hospital. I'm sure you'd want to see her." Westly gave her name to the desk clerk, while Cassidy stood staring at everything around her. She barely noticed that a bell hop had been given her luggage, and she was being ushered towards a giant elevator with gleeming mirrors.

The bell hop pressed at button and the doors slid silently closed. Cassidy released a breath she wasn't aware she was holding, and tried not to fidget. The doors slide open to an elegant hallway with plush carpet, and what appeared to be authentic paintings on the walls. Her door was opened, and the key placed in her hand. He was closing the door behind him, when she ran after him.

"Wait! Here, I know it's not much, or what you're used to, but...here!" Cassidy thrust the five dollar bill into his hand, and even though he was accustomed to larger, her hopeful eyes had him smiling earnestly back at her. "Thank you ma'am," and the door was closed between them.

Cassidy turned from the door and absorbed her surroundings. The room was large, with a full wall of a window that had the blinds pulled open to reveal a stunning view of the city. There was a cherry desk with writing paper, pens, and a vase filled with sunny daisies. The bed was overly large and seemed to be smothered by the pillows stacked all over it. It was draped with a very soft rose colored spread that made her want to run her hands over it just to feel the softness.