Who Is This?

Chapter 1

Cassidy lay on her back for a moment, trying to remember why she had woken. She had been in the midst of a beautiful dream, the memory of which was slipping from her mind as she lay, evading all her attempts to recall it.

Damn.

Her phone buzzed again, having been the instrument behind the rude awakening. Cassidy groaned, wrinkling her nose at the thought of abandoning her warm, comfortable position on the bed. It had to be past midnight, and that, in her opinion, meant that certain persons (i.e. her sister, one of the few people that ever called her) should be in bed, not irritating her with what was probably nothing more than a query as to whether she thought the white of said sister's dress was the perfect shade of white, being somewhere in between 'whipped cream' and 'vanilla ice-cream'. Surely white was white... right? Her phone, however, was persistent in its attempts to ingrain its irritating ringtone permanently in her mind, and, finally, Cassidy caved. She fumbled around blindly on her nightstand before her fingers brushed over her phone, and she grasped it.

"Answer call," she said blearily, and was honestly surprised when her temperamental phone recognised the command that was slurred and mangled by sleep.

The ringing ceased, and Cassidy pressed the phone to her ear. Someone had better be dead or dying. And if they weren't? They soon would be.

"Look, Sophie, you need to stop calling me, okay? I know what you did and it hurt me, okay, it fucking hurt me."

Cassidy blinked and sat up. She was, unsurprisingly, mildly hacked off, having a slight aversion to being called Sophie and being sworn at in the middle of the night, but the unknown caller with the weirdly sexy British accent wasn't finished yet.

"When I saw you with that man... God, I felt like you'd stabbed me in the gut. I love you, Soph, but everyone has their limits. Relationships depend on trust, and I... I just don't know how I can possibly trust you again. I think we both need some space, some time to reevaluate our relationship, and the way we've both behaved. I said some things to you that I'm not exactly proud of, Soph, but what you did to me... That was unforgivable. So you need to stop calling, okay? We both need some time apart."

Cassidy had to admit to herself that she wasn't really sure what to say. For the first time in her life, she was speechless. Then again, she'd never been called Sophie and accused of cheating by an unknown man with a British accent before. A sexy British accent.

"Well?" He demanded. "Say something!"

"Uh... I'm afraid I'm at rather a loss for words," Cassidy confessed, finding her voice at last. "However, this Sophie woman does sound like a real bitch, and I'm sure that speech would've been very effective had you actually been speaking to her." There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, before British-Man spoke again.

"Who is this?"

"Not Sophie. I think there's a high possibility you may have the wrong number," Cassidy said apologetically. Why was she apologetic? She wasn't the one who has called the wrong damn number in middle of the night. She should be yelling, goddammit!

"Oh my god. Oh my god. I am so, so sorry. I just... God, I am such an ass."

Cassidy couldn't help but laugh, despite the fact the this man had woken her up in the middle of the night to yell at her for cheating on him. He had a British accent, alright? British accents make everything okay. You'd think she would've gotten over them by now, what with living in London an' all, but no. British accents still made everything about seventy percent hotter. God, she even was British.

"It's fine." Why was she saying it's fine? It wasn't fine! Dammit, Cass, stop being polite! "If it makes you feel any better, it's not the weirdest wrong-number call I've received. At least you weren't confessing your undying love for my mother."