by Ky Crossfire
“Me Ok! I’ll come up with something. XOXO”
I send one last text with Nicolas address
“Logan: XOXO”
I shut my eyes, still wearing my earbuds and blasting music at maximum sound. I keep trying to imagine what Logan would look like after all these years.
When I woke up the next morning, I threw on a loose tee and some jean shorts, put on my flip-flops and went down the stairs. Everything was silent.
I made coffee for myself and Nicola’s shake and omelete. He comes down before I am able to season his breakfast with my special touch.
— Morning. — I smile as if nothing had ever happened, even if my true wish was throwing the freshly-made shake right at his face.
— Morning. Sleep well? — He asks.
— Marvelously.
I lean against the counter and start messing with my hair strands.
— I’ll be out, tomorrow afternoon.
Nicolas stops, his fork holding a piece of omelette mid-air.
— Why?
— It’s personal.
— Personal my ass. — he snarls, vexed. — While you’re working to me, you damn owe me explanations about where you’re going.
— I stopped owning explanations to my parents at eighteen, so, to you, I owe nothing. And stop screaming at me like I’m one of your bitched, okay?
He drops the fork back on his plate and burns me with his glare.
— First of all, you owe me respect, I’m your boss. Second, Monday to Saturday, I want to know exactly where you’re at. Your free days are on Sundays.
— Oh, good lord! Just go and eat already, you must be sour like that ‘cause you got no food on your stomach. I need this Saturday afternoon, take the hours off my paycheck, okay? If I’m not up to your expectations from a maid, it’s simple, fire me, goddamit!
When I pass besides him to store away the egg in the fridge, he hold my arm.
— You should stop cursing so much.
I pull my arm free harshly.
— And you should take care of your own life.
I look away from him and put the eggs in the fridge.
I feel his eyes on my neck, but a brush it off and stop at the sink so I can finish cleaning the breakfast plates. My phone rings, and I dry my hands on my own clothes before answering it.
— Hello. — I say, pissed off.
But my tone soon changes when I hear the masculine voice on the other end of the line.
— Hi, Isa, did I wake you?
— Oh, It’s you. — I smile. — No, Logan, not at all, I’ve been awake for a while.
— I wanted to invite you to help me choose a couple paintings from an art exposition that will happen today at a friend’s gallery. What you think? I’m in need of a feminina opinion.
— Oh, Logan…
I hear Nicolas clear his throat and ignore him.
— I can’t today, but I’ll be waiting for you at 8 o’clock, okay? Kisses.
— Kiss.
I end the call, smiling, and start singing: “Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf; who's afraid of the big bad wolf? I’m not!”
I hear Nicolas getting up from his chair. He drops the plate on the sink, his omelette barely even touched, as was the shake.
— You need to pay more attention. For a girl who wants to be a bakers, the omelette was burnt and the shake was slimy. I hope the next one is better.
I narrow my eyes. What a fucking liar. He obviously just said that to piss me off.
— Got it. Don’t worry, I’ll have a couple private classes with Logan, then I’ll make if perfectly! — I blink, then smirk.
And the final score for today’s game is: Isa 1 X 0 Nicolas.
Chapter 11
Isa Oliveira Brandão
Just as I turn off my phone, it starts ringing again. I answer it soons as I hear the first ring.
— The fuck you playing at, bitch? — Bia curses, shouting on the other end of the line. — Why the hell are you using my name to question your brother?
— Daaamn, calm your tits, girl, — I laugh. — It was for a good cause.
— Good cause my ass, you better tell me what’s happening properly.
I get out of the house and walk towards the garden. Sitting down on the grass, I go on with the conversation.
— I hooked up with Nicolas. — I confess, barely whispering.
Quietness.
— You big ass bitch! I want details, don’t miss a thing! — Her raging tone had changed to a flood of questions. — You’re following my prescription to you just right, aren’t you? That’s how I like it.
— Shut up, hoe, and let me tell you. — I answer, my voice still low. — It’s not like that, Nicolas is married.
— Damn, then leave it before it gets worse, married men are trouble.
— I know, I know… But it’s just so weird here, I’m in this house for four days already and no sign of his wife. And that’s not everything, he has a son with her.
— Married with kids? Fuck, Isa, what a bad pick. — She sighs.
— Honestly, so many chicks come and go from here that it looks like a Brazzers set. On my first day, I caught the bastard fucking his associate in the pool.
— Motherfucker — She curses.
— A dog, that’s what he is. But you haven’t even heard the worst…
— Tell me everything, bitch, now I wanna know everything. — Bia demands, filled with curiosity.
— Jorge came here two days ago, he gave me a ride when Little Carol died down at the market.
— And? — She interrupts. — Don’t tell me you paid him any attention.
— Can I fucking finish the story, dammit? It’s hard to talk you like this, you keep interrupting me.
— You cow. Then stop being all mysterious and just say it, bitch!
— Well… Nicolas and Jorge had a major fist fight, it was ugly. — I smile, remembering the feral way Nicolas had fought for me. — When Jorge left, I went back to the bedroom and he was naked.
— Oh, you lucky bitch!
— Lucky my ass. Which part of “married” haven’t you got? But then, the next day, when he came over all confident, I cut him off. I pretended nothing had ever happened. You know what he did after that? An orgy in the pool with a bunch of hookers!
— You gotta be kidding me. — Bia’s happy tone changes to disappointment. — Then what, what did you do?
— Me? I didn’t do anything, why? He isn’t mine. So, as I didn’t wanted to hear the moaning and screaming, I called Logan.
— And that is why you’re my hero. — She cheers up a bit. — Nothing can bring you down.
I laugh at her delightment.
— We’re going out tomorrow.
— Yeah! — She praises. — Make that Nicolas guy kneel at your feet.
— I don’t want anything to do with him, Bia. — I run my right hand trough the grass. — Yesterday, I had lunch with Rico, and he told me he married for real. But I couldn’t just tell him why I was so curious about it, so I blamed it on you.
— Oh, got it. So that’s why Rico called me yesterday, cursing the next three generations of my family. I don’t even want to remember it, it’ll ruin my day.
I laugh, picturing Rico filled with jealousy of Bia.
— And what are you going to do now?
— I’m going to teach Mr. Bad Wolf some manners. — I say, seeing him walk in my direction, all imposing in his custom-made suit, hot and so angry I could almost see it flowing from him.
He stops at my side. I sighed, like I was in love, and smile:
— Oh, stop it… — I do my best lovey-dovey voice and keep ignoring him.
— Isabel! — He roars.
— What a sexy voice Mr. Wolf has. Good luck! — Bia hangs up, but I go on with the scene.
— Hum… I’ll be waiting then. — I take a pause. I giggle a bit more and lay down on the grass, pretending to not having noticed the over 6
’5 feet tall man glaring at me. — Right, kisses!
I sigh. Really, guys, why didn’t I try and study to be an actress, by now, I would’ve been in the latest Netflix series making out with a bunch of hot guys.
— You think that’s what I’m paying you to do? Be cheesy on your phone all day? — He spits.
— You know, I was just asking myself whether the hoes you brought over yesterday are gone from your bedroom already or if the party would continue today.
— They left early in the morning. You don’t need to worry about that, I don’t normally do the same girl twice.
Fucking bastard!
— You know, you couldn’t me more right, boss. After I broke up with Jorge, I decided to adopt that same line of thought!
I get up and bat away the earth from my butt. Still smiling, I glance at him, get closer to his figure and fix his tie, even if my true wish is to choke him with it until he learnt to stop being such a dog.
— Oh, yeah? — He is so close that I can smell the sweet fragrance coming from him.
— Of course, boss: I’m single and ready to mingle, no ring on my finger, no deal at all. I can live my life in whatever way I want it.
He takes a step towards me and puts his body against mine.
— Have a good day at work, boss. And don’t push yourself too much, or you risk not having energy for your nightly orgies. — I spit. — I no girl likes a man who can’t get it up, you know. It would spread around really, really quickly. — I tease, before turning my back to him and walking away.
After a full morning making lunch and cleaning the kitchen, I decided to get some balls and enter the wolf’s den. By the way, he didn’t even have lunch at home today.
Holding the empty laundry basket in my hands, I direct myself to Nicolas’ room. It is filled with empty champagne bottles on the ground, the sheets are messed up and there’s a line of male clothes thrown around. Everytime I grab a piece of clothing to wash, I curse the shameless bastard. I take a pair of boxer. “I hope he gets scabies in his ass!” I then take a dress shirt stained by lipstick and redo my prague: “No, his ass is not good enough, I hope he gets scabies on his dick so he finally learns to stop being a dog.”
— Shameless. — I take his pants and put them in the basket. — Pervert.
I go to the closet and find his huge collection of suits and shirts.
— This shall do the trick. — I start taking the shirts from its hangers and put them in the basket along with the dirty clothes.
Of course none of the clothes I was taking from the hangers were actually dirty, but I didn’t care. I cleaned his closet out. I had to go up and down the stairs four times until there was not even one piece of clothing left.
I filled the washing machine up to the brim. Then, I dumped a full box of laundry soap and left the rest of the clothes on the ground. I put the machine to work on the highest setting, maybe that was enough to wash away the hooker scent that penetrated the clothes.
“I don’t normally do the same girl twice.” I mimic, faking a rough voice while I watch the machine fill with water.
“You think that’s what I’m paying you to do? Be cheesy on your phone all day?” I keep mocking him while I take rags to clean the windows.
— Cheeky bastard, — I curse to myself — go order your anorexic hoes around, it will be more productive.
I hear Nicolas’ laugh.
— For fuck’s sake, he’s always home these days. — I mumble in a whisper and stop at the glass table close to the pool. I leave the bucket filled with water and the other cleaning products there.
The sun is scorching, yet he keeps walking around the poolside, taking on his phone.
— I’m telling you, Rico, I’ve never seen a girl fatter than her. — He laughs again. — You know very well I like blondes and redheads way more.
“I hope you get pustules on your dick, asshole!”
He laughs one more time.
— I know, I know. I’ll be home for the next days. — He loosens his tie with his freehand and takes off his blazer.
“Of course you are, pervy bastard” I complain, whispering, once pissing me off was part of Nicolas’ daily routine.
— Don’t sweat it. — He throws his blazer on the chair, close to where I stand, and opens a couple buttons of his shirt without ever looking away from the clear-watered pool. — If you want to bring them over here…
A depraved smile forms on the motherfucker’s lips.
— No… Of course not, I won’t bother.
Enough, I’m tired of hearing this much bullshit. I walk through the poolside and push him into the pull.
I drop the bucket on the ground.
— Forgive me. — I force myself to sound sorry. — I don’t know what came over me. It must be the heat.
He smiles. Why the hell is he smiling?
— Come here then, I’ll help cool off.
I roll my eyes.
— Spare me, Nicolas. — I shout. — Go take care of your life, and let me work in peace!
I walk away, stomping the ground hard,with the bucket on my hands. trying to ignore the fact he was in the pool, his body fully wet, the white shirt lining his muscles, looking like the most delicious treat around.
I get in the laundry room and see the floor flooded by soapy foam.
— Nicolas! — I shout. — Come here, run! — I hold a laugh when he comes in, his clothes soaking wet.
— What have you done, Isabel? — He walks toward the washing machine and sees his clothes floating inside it. — Who the hell told you to put it all in the washing machine like that?
Barefoot, I walk to him and take one of the soaked suits from the floor, swaying it to shake some of the water off.
— Good lord, how clumsy I am. I swear I had your best interest in mind.
— And how the hell did you think destroying my clothes was in my best interests? None of this clothes can be washed like this.
I pop my tongue and try to hold back a smile.
— I don’t even know what to tell you: looking back, I just thought it would be a good idea, wash it all and make it clean so you’d find everything pretty and good smelling when you came back from work. — I leave the suit over the machine and smile. — But, in hindsight, seeing the mess it caused, I realize it was not a very good idea.
— Stop playing, Isa. You can’t even hide the fact you’re having fun with this.
— Little me? — I fake innocence. — Not at all, Nicolas, I care so much for my duties, you don’t even know how.
I put on my best good puppy face and put my hands back.
Nicolas starts taking off his body-hugging shirt, and my eyes become wide.
— What are you doing? — I swallow dryly, following his movements.
— What do you think? — He answers, his voice filled with spunk, and takes off his shirt.
I hold my breath when I see his naked torso, the large shoulder, the muscled, tanned chest, not to mention the six-pack his stomach held. A sin, if I’ve ever seen one.
He looks hot enough to melt butter when I glance at him, but I hold my act and pretend nothing that he’s doing fazes me, when, in reality, I’m shaking from my head to my toes.
He throws the wet clothing at me. I feel the lukewarm piece in my hand, his body is always so warm.
“Focus, Isabel. FFF. Focus on keeping his eyes on his, cause Nicolas’ a wolf, and, when you least expect it, he’ll attack”. He’ll attack me and eat me out. Eat me out best. I must gather strength to fight against the dog king, and, bless the Lord, I’ll come out unharmed from it this time. Damn right I will.
The little devil yells inside my head: “Go, Nick! Take your pants off, hot wolf!”. I try to keep a straight face.
— Thank you. — I say, barely even able to speak. I take a couple more steps and stop in front of the washing machine. — Now, if you don’t mind, I got a lot of work to do. — I put the shirt he just gave me in the machine and close it.
— Wait, — I hear Nick’s voice warning me — you forgot about these.
Nicolas throws his dark pants and black boxers over the machine.
“Don’t look at him, Isabel. Get his clothes and play dumb! No, Isa. You’re not falling under his claws, no again.” Reasonable me screams, pulling out her own hair, when she realizes how hard my heart is beating against my chest.
— Since you left your clothes here, to be washed, you can go back to the pool: I’m sure that, at any moment, a redheaded or maybe blonde skank is going to show up so you can have some fun.
“Good girl! Show that wolf his place!” Reasonable me cheers, mocking punches, while the little devil cries, hugging her knees against her chest: “You could have taken a harmless little look at least, it wouldn’t hurt”
— No. — I hear him growl on my ear, dangerously close. — The onw I want is right here.
He pulls me by the arm and presses me against the washing machine, his blue eyes never leaving mine. I know that look…
It’s the wolf’s look.
Our Lady of the wet panties, help me out here cause this ain’t easy.
Chapter 12
Nicolas Reis
Earlier, on that same day...
— So, what is the reason behind your visit to my office today, Mr. Reis? — The doctor looks over my file, and, then, at me.
— If I really knew, I wouldn’t need to be here, isn’t that right, Dr. Marcelo? — I snarl, not on the mood for useless questions. He lets his files down over the table and fixes his glasses on his face, using his index finger.
I puff, uncomfortable about the whole situation, and lower my voice.
— It’s just that something happened last night. Something that had never, ever, happened before.
He keeps a straight face, and I go on, talking about what made me ashamed.
— Yesterday, I had some girls come over to my house. We got the party started in the pool, then we went to my bedroom, and then.. — I stop talking and jump to my feet, starting to walk in circles. — Little Nicolas just didn’t want to go to work.
