MAKING IT LEGAL, page 3
“This obviously needs to stay between us, understand?”
Diesel winked. “Yes.”
“My father is the president of Brazil.” I whispered. Diesel shrugged his shoulders, apparently not impressed. “He’s trying to force me to move back home and marry a woman.”
“Hmm. Runs in the family, I suppose.” Diesel murmured, and I wondered at his response. “I mean, you prefer dicks over chicks. Alfonso is married, if I recall correctly. So what’s the problem?”
I stared at the stained ceiling tiles above me, trying to come up with the right words. Finally, I blurted out the truth. “I can’t marry a woman, and live some horrible lie, just because my father wants to appease his conservative supporters. So, what I’m proposing is marriage. I need you to marry me.”
“Hell no.”
I stared into his steely gray eyes and wondered how to persuade the man to change his mind. His fee might work. “If you marry me, you’ll never worry about money again.”
Diesel flinched, then raised the coffee cup to his lips, as if he were trying to disguise his reaction. The mention of cash had provoked a reaction, and I suspected he was in need of it. Lots of it. He said nothing, and the moment was beginning to feel awkward.
“Look, we only have to stay married for two or three years.” I leaned over the table and whispered. “After the divorce I will take care of you financially.”
“How much?” Diesel leaned back in the booth, his eyes never leaving mine. My mouth went dry thinking about the sheer amount of money I was offering. I was well off, but I wasn’t by any means a Carlionaire who could piss money away. But I’d pay just about anything to get away from my father.
“Twenty thousand dollars a month while we are legally wed. After the divorce you will get ten thousand dollars a month for the rest of your life.” My heart pounded, and a wave of dizziness passed through me.
Diesel steepled his hands under his chin, and I noticed a smattering of silver hair woven through the dark blond. “Does this really mean that much to you?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “If I go back to Brazil I will no longer be my own man. My father will marry me off, make me a senator, or some other political flunky. Since I’ve been in America, I’ve known freedom, freedom I will never have again if I'm forced to leave.” I leaned back in the booth and ran my fingers through my damp curls. “I know this is a lot of money to spend just so I can live and breathe a free man, but it’s worth it.”
Diesel’s nostrils flared. “I have certain conditions. The first one is a cash deposit and a signed contract. If for some reason you do not go through with the marriage, I won’t be left holding an empty wallet.”
That sounded reasonable, so I nodded.
“The second condition is sex. It’s off the table. I’ve been selling my ass for too long, and it’s been permanently retired.”
"Of course." I winced, then nodded again. He was a handsome man, my perfect type in fact, but this was a business transaction, nothing more. “We will need to live together, and if we could do so in Richmond, that would be far better than us living in DC where my father has more opportunity to interfere.”
“Okay. I have a condo. You will pay for all of my expenses while you live there.” Diesel gripped the table and shut his eyes, then muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Diesel, I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract first thing in the morning.”
His eyes opened, and for the first time he looked almost friendly. “I won’t regret this, will I?”
“We just have to remain married long enough for me to be granted permanent residency. Once we are wed, we can pretty much live separate lives. Living together is only to remove any suspicion that it’s a fake marriage.” I held my hand out across the table. Diesel stared at it a moment, then reluctantly shook it.
“Well, I never thought I’d ever get married.” He sighed.
“It’s going to be fine, Diesel. The deal benefits both of us. What could possibly go wrong?”
four
Diesel’s Little Surprise
Instead of driving to the art studio, I hoofed it. It was only a ten-minute walk, and despite the chilly temperatures, the bright, blue sky was too beautiful to miss.
I’d been tempted to quit the job. After all, if things went according to plan I’d have a healthy income. But, I suspected Santiago hadn’t thought everything through. What if the authorities didn’t believe we were actually a love match?
After agreeing to marry him, I went home and did some research. It was a felony to marry someone just so they could stay in the United States, and even though I wanted, no, needed the cash, the thought of spending time in prison chilled me to the bone.
“If I’d saved even a tiny amount of the money I'd made over the last decade, I would’ve turned Santiago down without a thought.” I sighed, then nearly lost my footing thanks to an icy patch on the sidewalk. “Shit,” I muttered. “Why the hell are you wearing expensive Prada sneakers instead of boots? And why did I buy them in the first place?”
Because I was stupid, that’s why.
I’d grown up outside of Charlottesville on a small farm that had been foreclosed on the year before I dropped out of high school. All I’d known up to that point was poverty, and thankless work. When the big bucks started rolling in a few years later, I compulsively shopped and travelled.
“Well, now you have a real job, and if you want to avoid jail, you’d better keep it, at least for a while. Thank God Santiago is paying me cash.”
It would look suspicious if Santiago deposited huge amounts of money in my bank without us being hitched. Keeping the modeling gig would look more normal to the authorities.
“Diesel!” Jolene waved to me. She was stepping out of a small green car onto the sidewalk outside the studio. When I got to her, she smiled. “Thanks for coming in, but I have to warn you, the studio is freezing. We have a space heater that we’ll set up next to where you will be posing.”
“No problem.” I grinned back at her, then felt my phone ping in my coat pocket. I pulled it out and saw a message from Santiago.
Almost to Richmond with your deposit. Meet at your place?
I was about to type that it would be a few hours before I got home, then a wicked thought crossed my mind.
Jolene was holding the door to the building open for me, so I raced through it, then turned to her and asked a question.
“I have an extremely important delivery, and it looks like it is arriving before I can make it home. Do you mind if I have it delivered here?”
“No, that’s not a problem at all.”
There was no time like the present to start acting like the happy couple, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he saw what I did for a living.
“Jesus, you weren’t kidding about it being chilly in here.” I said through chattering teeth. Jolene plugged in the space heater a few feet away from me.
“It’s hard to heat the room because of how big it is, and the concrete walls don’t help either. If I crank up the heat any higher, the surrounding classrooms overheat, then I have to hear Landon bitching about how hot it is.” Jolene said. “If it’s too cold, maybe we can draw you with some of your clothing on.”
“No.” I blurted, then giggled. Santiago was going to flip. “I will do the best I can. It’s not that bad.”
“Well, just let me know if you can’t take it. It’s only thirty-five degrees outside, and not much warmer in here.” She cupped her hands over her mouth, blew into them, then glanced at her watch. “The students will be here in less than ten minutes. You might as well get undressed.”
I removed the robe draped over the chair to my side, grabbed my Gucci bag and went to the men’s room to get naked.
“Why do they expect me to get undressed here instead of in the studio?” I wondered as I pushed open the door to a stall. “It’s not like they aren’t seeing the entire package up close and personal.”
The bathroom was much warmer than the studio, and after undressing I almost felt comfortable. After putting on the robe and stuffing my clothing in the bag, I strolled back to the studio and recoiled when I opened the door.
“Shit, it’s cold.” I muttered, then weaved my way through the students to the front of the studio. “Fuck this, I’m at least putting my socks on.”
It felt like I was walking on ice, and when I sat down in my chair, I jumped back up. The chair was so cold I could feel it through the thin material of the robe. I rifled through my bag, found my socks, and put them on. Then I noticed a poster on the wall of the statue of David, by Michaelangelo, and realized we now had something in common. I opened the front of my robe and glanced down.
“Shit. Major shrinkage. Hell, David looks more hung than I am right now.”
“Everybody, pencils ready.” Jolene’s assistant LaTrice said, then walked over to me and patted my shoulder. She was a large woman with braids that hung down to her ass. “Diesel, you can remove your robe now.”
Reluctantly, because it was so damned cold, I took it off and draped it over the back of my chair. My hands automatically covered my junk. Though I didn’t have issues being nude, I was feeling self-conscious about the shrinkage.
“Cross your legs like this.” Latrice stepped back and showed me what she wanted. “Now, raise your arms over your head all the way up, like you are stretching.” She posed so I could see how to do it.
“Fuck.” I muttered, then did as she asked. Now my shriveled-up dick was on full display.
“This is a tough pose, Diesel, and I know how cold it is. If you need…” Latrice started, but the door to the studio flew open and the entire classroom turned to see who it was.
Santiago froze in the doorway, his eyes glued to my frame. He was holding a leather briefcase, and it clattered to the floor. “Um, Diesel, you…”
Jolene walked out of her office. “Excuse me, we’re in the middle of class. Whatever it is, please come back after…”
“It’s okay.” I dropped the pose. “He just needs to give me something. I told you about it earlier. It will only take a second, I promise.”
Jolene stared at me for a moment, then at Santiago, then back at me. “Do you want to put your robe on?”
I almost grabbed it off the back of the chair, but I noticed one of Santiago’s hands go up to his mouth. He was biting his nails, and from years of experience with awkward clients, I could sense his unease. Keeping him unbalanced would make him easier to deal with. Instead, I walked through the sea of easels until I was in front of him.
“Hi, baby.” I pecked him on the cheek, and heard several of the students sigh behind me. “Did you bring me that important package?”
Santiago’s gaze dropped down, then shot straight back up to my face. He looked entirely different today, since he wasn’t soaking wet. His tan skin glowed, and his curly black hair was neatly combed back. He shut his eyes for a second, and I noticed his long eyelashes resting on the skin in front of his eyes. Then he opened them, picked up the briefcase from the floor and held it out to me.
“It’s all in there.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Sixty thousand dollars, the three month deposit. And how did you make a living as an escort again?” He backed away from me, his eyes moving up and down my body. Santiago smirked, then leaned forward, and whispered, “You seem kind of, you know, small.”
“I’m a grower, not a shower, and it’s cold as hell in here.” I felt my cheeks burning. Where the hell was he getting off talking shit about my dick? “Doesn’t matter anyway, sweetie pie, you’ll never get to play with it.” I grabbed the briefcase out of his hand, then kissed him on the cheek again. “Let me get back to work, dear.” I said in a louder voice.
Santiago hesitated a moment, then spun around and left without another word. When I turned to go back to the front of the studio, Jolene was right behind me.
“Do you want me to keep that briefcase in my office?” She pointed at it. I noticed a strange look in her eye, and wondered if she was nosing for gossip.
“Oh, no. This remains with me.” I said in a sing-songy voice. There was no way I was letting the cash out of my sight.
“Students, give Diesel a round of applause. He was a real trooper today.” Latrice said, and I immediately put my robe on. I couldn’t feel my toes, and twice I’d dropped out of the pose because I was shivering so much. The students clapped their hands for a few seconds, then began putting their art supplies away.
“So, who was the sexy man?” Jolene said from behind me, and I yelped.
“Jesus!” My hand flew to my chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you approach.”
“From what I gathered, you are single.” Jolene slowly walked around me, like a general interrogating a prisoner. I cinched the robe around me tighter and shivered. “But you two looked awful chummy.”
Good God, I barely knew this woman and she thought I was going to tell her everything about my life. “He’s just…” My words trailed off, because it dawned on me that Santiago was about to be my very first, and only husband. After we divorced I was remaining happily single. “He’s my fiancé.”
“He’s what?” Jolene stepped back, and I noticed a few of the students in the front row listening.
“My fiancé. His name is Santiago, and we’re getting married.” I guessed there was no time like the present to begin this charade.
“Wow, um, congratulations.” Jolene muttered, then leaned in and whispered, “Does he know about, you know, your former job?”
Boy does he ever know. Like, to the tune of sixty grand, he knows, but I kept my mouth shut. “I’m freezing, Jolene. If you don’t mind, I want to put on some clothes.”
Jolene’s eyes narrowed, then she shrugged and pointed toward the door. I padded toward it, then heard her voice ring out behind me.
“So when’s the big day?”
five
Santiago Gets An Ultimatum
I fell against the wall outside of the art studio, trying to contain my laughter. Diesel was so damned full of himself sometimes, and while it hadn’t been my intention to poke fun at him, sometimes my big mouth got the best of me. But as far as I was concerned, if I was paying him these enormous sums, he could be a little more respectful towards me.
“Got to admit, though, he’s one hell of a good-looking man.” I sighed, then closed my eyes and saw him nude in front of me. Goosebumps had covered him from head to toe, and I’d even noticed a little steam coming out of his mouth from the cold. He had the perfect amount of muscle, not too much and not too little. My dick was firming up at the memory, and a wave of guilt passed through me. “I’ll apologize for the dick joke.” I muttered, then my phone pinged. “Maybe.”
I pulled the phone out of my pocket. A message from Uncle Alfonso.
Meet me at Deja Vu Brew at 5 p.m.
22 Main Street Warrenton Virginia
No Excuses Urgent
“Where the hell is Warrenton?” I pushed myself off the wall and headed toward the building’s exit. “And why the hell not just meet me in DC? I understand the need for secrecy, but this is ridiculous.”
I’d lucked out, and found a parking spot across the street from the building where Diesel worked. Once inside my rental car, I typed in the address of the coffee shop on my phone. “Hmm, Warrenton is almost two hours away, and then it’ll be another hour to get back to my apartment in DC. And I’ll have to deal with traffic, which is horrible in the afternoon. Fuck!” I hit the steering wheel. "Ouch!" I shook my hand in the air a few times, then programmed my phone’s GPS. Reluctantly, I typed a message back to my uncle.
On my way
By the time I got off the interstate it was already dark, and light snow was falling. This slowed me down even further, so I pulled over at a gas station and typed out a message to my uncle.
Almost there delayed by snow )-:
The little dots jumped next to the message, and moments later my uncle replied.
Big trouble
Hurry
“What the hell is happening?” I muttered, then backed out of the gas station parking lot and resumed driving. According to my phone it was only ten minutes away, but with the snow it probably meant twenty minutes. Hopefully it would let up before I drove into DC.
The coffee shop was empty, except for a booth in the back where my uncle and two men in black suits were sitting. I didn’t want anything to drink, so I hurried over. The two men leapt up, and moved to a table by the front window, well out of earshot.
“What took you so long?” Uncle Alfonso grumbled, then pulled a small gray flask from his suit pocket and doctored his coffee with liquor.
“It’s snowing, and I don’t have guards and drivers to chauffeur me around like you do. And why the hell are we meeting in this tiny little town?” I huffed.
“We have all of five minutes to talk, then you must make a decision.” He drank half the cup of coffee, then refilled it straight from the flask. My uncle wasn’t much of a drinker, so whatever was going on had to be serious.
“What is it?” I asked, my chest feeling tight.
Uncle Alfonso glanced at his watch. “Your father is making an unofficial visit, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s on a plane right now.”
My mouth dropped open.
“He called me a few hours ago, wondering why you hadn’t returned home yet. I told him you needed a little more time to pack up your apartment, and that you were flying back soon. He didn’t believe me.” Uncle Alfonso leaned forward, placed his face in his hands and sighed.
“But, but, Papa can’t…”
“Oh yes, you spoiled brat, your papa can." He glared at me. "Look, I know you’ve paid the prostitute already. You need to either accept the fact that you’ve lost a bit of money, or you need to get married within the next twenty-four hours.”
