One Unforgettable Favor

by Nicole Vidal

  “Was work that bad today?” Apparently, he’s still reeling from the accidental glimpse of my breasts. His face has a tight expression. Even though the video isn’t great, I can see his eyes are dark with lust.

  I want you too, Cassius, more than I should at this point, especially given the distance between our homes.

  “No. Yes. Sort of. Kate and I have drinks at Kiely’s Tavern every Thursday after work. We’ve been going there since college. Plus, Keyton, the bartender has a thing for Kate. She hasn’t given him the time of day yet, but he still tries every single week. As far as work, it hasn’t gotten any better with M’s mother. She threatened to leave the center if my boss doesn’t fix her son. Newsflash, your son doesn’t need fixing; he needs support. Plus, career day is falling apart. I had six different careers set up for the last Friday of this month, and two bailed earlier today.” Surprisingly, it felt better saying all of that out loud. A small weight lifted off my chest by sharing my problems. “Thank you, Cash.”

  “For what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Of course you did. I only have Kate here for the day-to-day stuff. Thank you for listening.”

  “Anytime. You can call me even if it’s the middle of the night.” He rubs his jaw.

  “How was your day? What happened to your jaw? That’s the second time you touched it tenderly since we started talking.”

  “Work was fine. I negotiated a deal for one of my investors to buy a large farm for a nonprofit animal rescue. Generally, those don’t make money, but it’s what she wanted, and I found the ideal angel investor for her. And my jaw hurts because of you.”

  “That’s wonderful. What is an angel investor?”

  “An angel investor—”

  “Me? What do you mean your jaw hurts because of me?” I interrupt, my voice laced with angst and my chest tightening. I would like to learn what an angel investor is, but I’m more concerned about his jaw.

  “Tesoro, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. My trainer and college buddy, Evan, landed a strong uppercut at the boxing gym after work. I wasn’t in the ring; I was thinking about you. I know better.”

  I feel my skin heat up. I’ve driven this sweet man to distraction. What did he call me?

  “An angel investor is a person with capital who is looking to invest in someone else’s project like a new small business. Usually, the angel takes an ownership stake in the new company. Sometimes, he or she wants to start their own venture capital firm. Other times, the angel just wants to share his or her experience or wealth with a new entrepreneur.”

  “Are angel investors the norm, or is that just the beginning?”

  “That is just one portion of where the capital could come from. Are you sure you want to hear all of this? Some people think my job is boring and repetitive.”

  “Yes, I want to hear all of it. You clearly love what you do, and you didn’t make me feel dumb for not knowing what an angel investor is. Do you prefer investing or flying? Plus, your voice is sexy. I like listening to you talk.”

  “I have a strong urge to set some of your past dates straight. No one should ever make you feel less than because you don’t know about a subject, especially something complex like venture capitalism. I have an exceptional aptitude for investing, but I prefer flying.”

  “Why do I sense some underlying issue with preferring flying?”

  His eyes soften, and his shoulders relax even more. “How? I love how you see me. Truly see me. Flying is not an acceptable profession as far as my parents are concerned. Any service job is beneath a Morgan. To them, being a pilot, even if it’s a private pilot, isn’t good enough for their son.”

  “Please excuse my bluntness, but why do you care? If you’re happier in the cockpit of a private plane than in an office on Wall Street, make a change. I know firsthand that life’s too short to be unhappy in anything. While I don’t remember as much as Nicholas, and even Noah to some extent, my parents were blissfully happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other for a tragically fleeting period. With your knowledge of investing, I’m sure you could manage whatever assets you have to take the massive pay cut I assume flying would be. I’m sorry this conversation just turned heavy.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. Your view of life is refreshing in its simplicity. Losing your parents so young has impacted your world view for the better, and it’s heartening to meet someone who believes that life is meant to be lived not bought.”

  I try to stifle a yawn but fail. I imagine he’s ready to sleep as well.

  “Go to sleep, tesoro. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Cash.” I end the call wondering what that means, set an alarm, and snuggle under my covers wishing he were here.

  7

  Cassius

  The sound of my front door opening jolts me from my bed. I overslept. Normally, I’m up with the sun even on weekends.

  “Cash? Are you up?” my younger brother calls presumably from my living area. Auggie is the youngest of my siblings. My brothers and I look alike—tall, dark complexions, dark eyes. Auggie is a tad skinnier than Sam and me but only because he doesn’t have as much time to hit the gym while he’s in school. Apparently, becoming a chef is a grueling educational endeavor. Our sister, Mina is our antithesis. She has light eyes, long blonde hair, and is tiny.

  “I’ll be right out.” I roll over with a groan. Not only does my jaw still hurt, but my muscles ache from yesterday’s workout with Evan and Kip. I grumble as I sit up and climb out of bed. Pulling on a shirt, I trudge to the kitchen.

  “Bro, you look like hell. Late night with a guest or too much booze?”

  “Neither. I was up late on the phone.” I busy myself making coffee. “Do you want a cup?”

  “Sure. We can do this later if you want. I have the entire day free.”

  “I can’t. I’m going out with Evan later. The time difference is rough.”

  “Wait, the person you were talking to lives in a different time zone?”

  I set a cup in front of him and turn to make my own. “Yes,” I reply, foaming the milk.

  “She must be something special,” Auggie observes before downing half his cup and pulling a stack of papers out of his backpack.

  “She is. What did you bring for me?”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to share,” Auggie asks.

  “There isn’t a lot to share. I just met her a few weeks ago. She was a passenger on one of my flights. There were some mechanical issues with the plane, and my client asked me to do whatever was necessary to get his sister to his wedding. After some negotiating and making a few promises, I was able to secure another plane to get her where she needed to be. When I was back in her area last weekend, we went out.”

  “You like her,” Auggie states pointedly.

  “Yes, I do. Not only is she gorgeous, but her take on life is refreshing. Due to the hand she was dealt, she believes a person shouldn’t do anything that makes them unhappy.”

  “Good for you, bro. I hope it works out for you. Didn’t Mom fix you up with Brittany a few weeks ago too?”

  “I do too. And yes. That was a train wreck. Not only is she boring and not my type, she caused a scene requiring police intervention at the bistro on Fifth.”

  “What on earth did you say to her that required a call to the police?” Auggie asks, hoping for something juicy.

  “When I offered to walk her home, she said she wanted to walk to my place. I turned her down, and she lost her mind. I’ve never seen a woman act like that. The maître d’ called the police immediately. What about you? Any relationships over three weeks I need to know about?”

  “I have no words, especially since Mom supposedly vetted her. There are only two women who have lasted more than three weeks, Mina and Caro. Our sister is fine. She’s happy with Peter and her new life. Caro is my best friend. We have a standing weekly dinner and talk daily. Otherwise, everything is the same as it has always been between us.”

&nb
sp; “Does she know you want more?” I inquire, seeing the longing in my brother’s gaze. Presumably, that’s the look Evan saw on my face before he landed his punch.

  “No. She tells me repeatedly she isn’t interested in ruining our friendship even if the sex were magnificent. Her words. I’m not in a place where I can fight for her like she deserves. Someday I’ll tell her.”

  As the second cup of coffee wakes up the rest of my neurons, I grab his business plan. We spend the next few hours making some small tweaks in the mission statement and a substantial change in the five-year-plan projections before upping the initial capital investment he’s seeking. The business plan is in great shape. I hope Margaux and Warren are willing to give him access to some of his trust account early to open his dream restaurant.

  After finishing our changes to his plan, Auggie takes off. I have a few hours before meeting Evan for a few games of hoops at the club. I decide to text Noelle.

  Me: How is your day so far?

  I set my phone aside to catch up on some sports news on my terrace. Surprisingly, she answers immediately.

  Noelle: Not too bad. I’m getting ready to hit the beach with Kate and her goddaughter.

  Me: Not fair. You tempt me with my own imagination.

  After hitting send, I push away how I think Noelle would look in a bikini. “Smoking hot” are the words that come to mind. Full breasts, smooth belly, and long, toned legs. All the blood rushes south as I picture her in my mind. Instantly I’m rock-hard. Her next text puts my imagination to shame. At the photo of Noelle wearing a black bikini, I’m painfully aroused. Arguably, it covers everything it should, but my brain is going wild with the ways I could untie the strings set on her curvy hips.

  Me: Holy hell. You look hot!

  Noelle: Thank you. What are you up to today?

  Me: Playing basketball later with Evan and a few other guys.

  Noelle: Make sure you pay attention. No more injuries on my account.

  Me: I’ll do my best, but you don’t make it easy. Have fun at the beach.

  Noelle: Call me tonight when you get home.

  Me: I will.

  I focus my energy on something nonsexual to calm myself. In my mind, I formulate ways to explain my job to Noelle. My job isn’t boring to me, and she seems genuinely interested in learning. Slowly the strain against my boxer briefs lessens. Thinking about my job brings me back to our conversation last night. Is she right? Do I need to make a change? Do I want to?

  I prefer flying to my day job—a fact I have only admitted to her. It isn’t lost on me that she makes me rethink things and dig for deeper meaning. The fact that she’s an orphan significantly impacts the way she views the world. It’s clear she has a strong connection with her brother Nicholas and her bestie, Kate. She’s selective with whom she spends her time. I’m grateful to have a chance to become someone she trusts.

  After thinking about Noelle and her observations, I decide to shift my strategy to create an exit plan that decreases my hours in the office with an eye on resigning by the end of the year. I beg off basketball and begin my research immediately. Who do I share with next that ensures my privacy? It’s probably my brother Sam, but I hold off on that call for now.

  Five hours and a food delivery later, I have a plan for my work life. I haven’t really thought how Noelle might fit into this, but at a minimum, I feel lighter and my outlook is genuinely more positive.

  She calls me back after I send her a text. She divulges the details of her trip to the beach with her bestie and that she’s lounging on her terrace soaking up the evening breeze. We chat for a bit before choosing Shawshank Redemption to watch together from afar. For both of us, this movie is one of the all-time best. Every now and then while we’re watching, I hear her sigh. I can picture her curled up in the corner of her couch with a cozy blanket. An increasing part of me wishes I were there with her.

  “Good night, Noelle,” I murmur into my phone near two in the morning East Coast time.

  “Good night.”

  I imagine her burrowing deeper on her couch until morning. Stumbling to my bed, I fail miserably to sleep a wink. By seven on Sunday, I’m already on my second cup of coffee while preparing myself for brunch with my parents.

  Their penthouse is located on the Upper East Side of the city. The skyline views are spectacular. Their home is overly big for just the two of them, but moving isn’t an option. The address is indicative of their status in the New York social elite, and Margaux would never agree to give that up.

  “Good morning, Henry. Nice to see you again.” Henry has been with my family as long as I can remember. He’s a portly man who serves as the house butler for my parents. He taught me and my brothers how to play pool in the servants’ quarters while my parents traveled. The best times we had in this house were when our parents were gone.

  “You as well, Master Cassius. Your parents are in the front parlor. Your brothers have already arrived,” he replies.

  “Thank you.” I walk to the parlor, attempting to center myself as I get closer to my parents. The last time I was with my parents was at the Salvatore wedding last year. It appalled me to learn that my father was attempting to marry my sister off to a business associate like my mother was to him. The same night, we learned that Mina is my half sister. She’s working on her relationship with her bestie turned half sister, Della, and her biological father. She refuses to see our parents, and I don’t blame her. I’m only here today to support Auggie.

  As I step into the room, both Sam and Auggie nod.

  “Cassius, thank you for coming.” Margaux remains seated, dressed in a tailored lilac suit with matching pumps. Even for brunch in her own home, Margaux dresses like she is dining at the Waldorf.

  “Mother.” I take a drink from Salma, their housekeeper and cook. She and Henry came to work for my parents as a couple. I have only seen one other couple as deep in love as them: Arthur and Eloise. They give me hope that my fairy-tale marriage is a possibility.

  An image of Noelle floats quickly through my mind. To keep her out of this meeting, I shove the gorgeous image away. I have no intention of mentioning her to my parents, and I’m sure Auggie won’t either. “Father.” Warren is an investor through and through and dresses the part as well. He’s tall with salt-and-pepper hair, fit, but it’s obvious sweets are his weakness.

  “Cassius. Nice of you to join us in a timely manner.”

  I let his dig roll off my shoulders. I’m not late. My father believes that to be on time, you must arrive at least fifteen minutes early. We were set to meet at ten; it’s five minutes before, and he still chastises me. I’m a successful businessman, and my timeliness has never been an issue.

  Salma indicates that our meal is ready. We move into the formal dining room. I’m sure Auggie wants to talk about his proposal, but I assume our father will push him off until after brunch. After Salma serves our food, the only sounds in the room are from silverware touching the plates or polite requests to pass the cream.

  We return to the parlor after brunch, and Auggie sets out his plan for early access to his trust fund. Surprisingly, my parents listen intently to his presentation. Before Mina’s discovery of her parentage and my parents releasing her entire trust in an attempt to reestablish a relationship with her, I would have said this meeting was futile. In the end, my parents agree to allow Auggie to use half of his requested amount to capitalize his farm-to-table restaurant upon successful graduation from the Culinary Institute. Thanks to me, Auggie will have about 20 percent more than necessary from the amendments we made to his business plan yesterday.

  As soon as I can, I excuse myself from the depths of my childhood nightmare. After the ride home, I still need to decompress, so I pull on some running shoes to run a loop around Central Park.

  8

  Noelle

  As each day passes and the weekend is in sight, I get increasingly giddy. The early part of the week has moved along at a decent pace. Cash and I have exchanged texts
or video call each night. Midweek the owner decides that I need to rearrange the entire center to appease M’s mother. I’ll do it, only because it will help M. My boss, Sheila, is doing it to maintain her reputation with the elite clientele of the center. Her attitude regarding the status of her students’ trust funds gives me pause.

  Luckily, I have a phone interview set up for this evening. I spent the entire day restructuring the math, reading, dramatic play, and sensory areas of the classroom today. I’m exhausted. Thankfully, this interview is by phone. My tired eyes might reflect on my ability to keep up with preschoolers.

  The phone interview goes well. The director indicates that she’s looking for her replacement and has a few more candidates to interview. Afterward, I hastily throw together some dinner. After setting my dish in the sink, I change into shorts and a cami. I snuggle into my bed with a book and promptly fall asleep. Near midnight, I wake to my sheets soaked with sweat with the urge to vomit. My muscles ache, but I’m sure it’s from moving fixtures around all day today. I barely make it to the bathroom before losing my dinner. With maximum effort, I plod to my couch and promptly fall back to sleep.

  Near eight the next morning, I summoned the strength to text Sheila, letting her know I’m ill. That was hours ago. Rays of hot sun are streaming in through my sliding door. I push up to sitting, attempting to ignore the spinning in my head. The next thing I remember is Cash carrying me to the bathroom.

  I hear water and feel something running up and down my back. Kate. Kate is here too.

  “Here, take these.” Kate shoves some pills into one hand and a sports drink into the other. Someone is taking off my clothes and washing my hair. I’m so weak, I don’t have it in me to figure it out.

  Wakefulness seeps in slowly, but it doesn’t appear to be morning. A heavy arm curls around my waist. I tense up and strain to find a clock.