“Fine, I’ll stay, but on one condition,” Tim said.
“State your terms.”
“Your handsome brother has to teach me to ride a horse,” Tim said, leaning forward and looking at Andres, whose eyes got wide.
“No Yuñior! Whatever it is he wants, the answer is no!” Andres shouted.
“Hermano, por favor, for me,” Yuñior said, smiling at him, with a very wide grin. “He simply wants to learn to ride a horse. He’d like for you to teach him.”
Tim leaned forward, giving the same wide smile. Andres wasn’t amused. He didn’t find it funny at all. The man had on pink cowboy boots and a neck scarf. Andres shook his head no.
“Come Tim, it is time to meet the rest of mi Familia,” Yuñior said, slipping out of the vehicle and offering Tim a hand.
Andres watched the dynamic between them seeing how carefully Yuñior spoke to the man. The corners of his mouth had softened when he talked to this Tim and he was smiling in a way that didn’t scare small children. His brother had affection for this man. If that were the case, it meant the poof was of an importance to the man who would be Czar, which made the poof a man of importance to the family.
“Fine,” Andres acquiesced, “But I’m not going to enjoy it.”
“My thought, little brother, is that you just might. Don’t let the outside fool you. He is an interesting man of depth and substance,” Yuñior quipped.
They walked past Andres with their heads held high. Yuñior escorted Tim into the front door as Andres rode hard around the right of the house, coming to a halt at the back door. He left the horse by the pool as he ran up the back stairs, bolting through the kitchen and arriving just as his father was coming from his office. Andres flopped down in the large chair, waving for Micah to come over and sit beside him. He knew Micah would have no filters when it came to Tim, and he nearly bit his tongue trying to stave off the bubbling laughter.
Andres couldn’t hold it. The moment Eduardo Delgado took one look at Tim, his eyebrows shot up. He stared at the man from head to toe, finally ending with a disapproving eye squint at his son. In the background, the snickering Andres served as a backdrop for the next five minutes which went exactly as Yuñior had prayed it would not.
“Papa, I present to you, Tim the Johnson,” Yuñior started by saying. “Tim, this is my family. My father, Eduardo Benicio de la Marta Castanza Delgado, Senior, the Fer-de-Lance.”
Tim did a curtsey. Yuñior pinched his arm. Andres snickered louder while Micah asked, “What is going on here?”
“Mi Mama, Ryanne Trodat Delgado, the Lady of the Lands,” Yuñior said, as Tim curtsied again, but this time Ryanne shook her head no.
“Tim, welcome to our home. It is a pleasure to have you here,” Ryanne said, cocking her head to the side, silently asking the lopsided colorful bird to straighten up and fly right.
“Oh, I hear some Texas in the voice. Let me guess, Dallas or Houston?” Tim asked, touching his chest.
“Dallas. I grew up there,” Ryanne said, hoping that would end the flamboyancy.
“How ‘bout them cowboys,” Tim said, taking a step back, but walking into a solid wall. “Oh my goodness. Didn’t see that wall there...oh my!”
It wasn’t a wall, but a Tonda, who moved silently for a rather large man. He turned around to face the mass of man that was Tonda. Tim, outdone, in shock, and floored by the sheer size of Tonda, let out a loud squeal. Before Yuñior could stop him, the man spun around in a circle and did a she-blam and landed in the floor with a loud oomph. Andres fell out of the chair, loudly wailing about his need to pee, laughed so hard he lost control of his bladder saturating the front of his pants.
Micah, still concerned, asked again, “What is going on here?”
Eduardo, unamused, turned and walked away, while Marianna stood with her mouth wide.
Zeta, who had arrived shortly after Andres, quietly closed the back door and joined the family. She stepped around the fray, bending down to loan Tim a hand. Her dark eyes stared at him, pulling him hard by his arm.
“I am the reason you are here,” she said in a lowered tone. “Currently, you are making a spectacle of yourself and embarrassing my boss. This we cannot have, Señor. Get to your feet and I shall show you to your quarters.”
Tim didn’t argue, but stood up, looking at the other people who had come into the living room. Yuñior stood with his head down and lips pressed tightly together. Tim recognized the error in his behavior and acknowledged that he’d embarrassed Yuñior in front of his father by doing exactly what the young Czar-to-be asked him not to do, but he’d never seen a man as big as Tonda, who moved so quietly. A man that size a person would expect to at least hear his thighs rub together as he walked.
He’d figure out a way to make it right if he could. First chance he got he needed to apologize to Ed and his entire family. And he would.
If they didn’t kill him and feed his body in pieces to the venomous snakes.
YUÑIOR BALLED UP HIS fist. The anger he felt for Tim at the moment was overruling every other thought in his head. Three times he’d explained in a calm, sensible voice of what Tim should and should not do, which went right out the window. His father would never trust his judgement again, bringing such a man into their home. Twice, Yuñior had violated protocol by first bringing in Brody the Johnson and then Diadra.
“This is a nightmare,” he said, reaching for his cell. He called the number without thinking, hoping for a second of respite before having to face his father. Yuñior felt as if he’d failed miserably an unwritten test of Czar behavior.
The line rang twice before the call was answered. The soft sound of her voice immediately put him at ease, but he was still at a loss. She sighed into the line.
“Everything must have gone terribly if you’re calling me again so soon,” Diadra said softly, grabbing her glass of wine and taking a seat on the couch. “I’m listening. How bad was it?”
“Where would you like me to start...Andres laughing so hard that he pissed himself, or a grown man with a beard, wearing pink cowboy boots, with a matching cowboy hat, a pink and green scarf with pearls meeting my father,” Yuñior said.
“Oh wow,” she replied, hearing the anguish in his voice.
“That, Diadra, is only the start of the seven minutes of hell,” he supplied, “when I introduced Tim, he did a perfectly executed curtsey, holding the edges of his blouse, not shirt, but mint green blouse.”
Diadra didn’t want to, but she chuckled. The heavy breathing in the phone indicated that Yuñior found no humor in the situation. She encouraged him to continue.
“How did Micah handle the Pink Cowboy?” she asked, snickering into the phone.
“He kept asking, what is going on here? Diadra, Tim took a step back and bumped into Tonda. This grown man, squealed like a stuck pig and right in the middle of the floor, he fell out. You know, the way the nightclub gay boys do in the shows, with one leg stuck out and the knee is bent,” Yuñior told her.
Diadra fell back on the couch, howling in laughter. “It’s called a She-blam.”
“Oh, there is a name for that foolishness?”
This statement made Diadra laugh even harder. “The image of your father’s face as this pink cowboy booted man with a beard falling into the floor with a thud is almost priceless. Oh my, God I can’t stop laughing,” she said feeling bad for him.
“Zeta, that is her name, who shall be my assistant was the only one who moved to help Tim up from the floor. Diadra, I don’t know how I’m going to face my father and not come off looking like a giant fool,” he confessed, shocked at himself for telling her so much.
“Ed, thanks for calling me,” Diadra told him, “I know it must be difficult for you to turn to another person in such an odd situation, but your first instinct is always the best instinct. If all of that occurred within his first seven minutes, imagine the fun and excitement over the next few days. How long is Tim supposed to be there?”
“Dear God, a week. I don’t think I’
m going to make it,” Yuñior moaned.
Diadra inquired, “Okay, this is good. Why a week? What is Tim there to do exactly?”
Yuñior exhaled, tightening his grip on the phone. “He’s here to style Zeta, do a pamper session for the Señora, and trim my father’s hair. Tonda asked for a makeover, but after Tim’s reaction, if he had to measure Tonda’s inseam and squealed like that once more, Tonda may snap his neck like ‘the chicken’.”
Diadra burst into laughter.
“Baby, this is not funny,” Yuñior stated.
“No, but this is comedic gold and so is Tim. You can knock out two big pink birds with one swift blow,” Diadra added. “Do you have an annual calendar, notebook, or planner available?”
“Yes, I think there may be one or two in the supply closet,” he said, looking about the tiny office he shared with his two brothers. The space looked as if it were once a closet that had been gutted and three desks got shoved inside. Crayons sat on his desk from where either Angel or Isabella had been coloring.
“Perfect. Zeta can begin her training by getting Tim organized. If it were me, I would have Zeta schedule the pampering session first for your stepmom,” she told him. “If the Lady of the Lands is happy with Tim’s work, and she comes to your daddy feeling pretty before they go to bed, then he’s going to come down the stairs in the morning ready for his shave and a haircut from Tim.”
“Brilliant and disgusting all at the same time,” he scoffed. “Granted, I know they have sex, I have two sisters to prove it, but the idea of Papa getting it in kind of makes me feel queasy. He’s such an intense and angry man. I just got an image of them having angry sex. Por favor, Maria, Mother of Jesus, make the bad images go away.”
“If I haven’t told you, your father is a very virulent man. He could get it,” she said laughing. “Angry. Furious. Upset over coffee stocks. He can get it.”
Before long he found himself laughing as well.
Diadra laughed along with him and stopped, “Ed, if it were me, I’d allow Zeta to get the feel of running a schedule by letting her handle Tim. Tim is used to an American work day which means I’d make sure she scheduled in a morning break, lunch, and afternoon break, then a fun activity after dinner. The visit will be much more productive that way.”
“Damn, I love you,” Yuñior said, catching himself too late before the words slipped out.
The line was quiet, and he started to sweat. Words such as those were reserved. He said it too soon and now she had power over him. Panic coursed through his veins like rushing rivers of red fuel as his watch ticked down the seconds.
“I love you too, Ed, but I was hoping, you know, when we have some of that angry sex you like to unleash on me the first go round after you haven’t seen me in three weeks, that you’d possibly say it then,” she said. “I love you so much that I’m scared when the day comes that I have to let you go.”
“I licked you, so you’re mine. You might be stuck with me,” he said, chuckling softly.
“It’s going to be hard letting you go,” she repeated.
“It’s hard right now listening to the sound of your sexy voice,” he said before he knew it. He sighed loudly. “I seem to be losing my goddamn mind when I’m talking to you. I don’t say such vulgarities. Please forgive my impertinence.”
Diadra wanted more. “I like it. What if I sent you some sexy photos and you sent me...”?
“No. Never. I have an eidetic memory coupled with hyperthymesia. Any sight, sounds, or feel can bring me back to you without the need of photographs,” he explained.
“So, do I need to send you a pair of my panties?”
“Only if you’re in them,” he told her. “I have no need, on this day or any other, for a pair of your soiled knickers,” he said, laughing.
Yuñior heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Zeta standing in the door. He pointed to the closet and mouthed the word calendar to her. He also wanted her to grab a pen.
“I have to go and get to work, but I’ll be in touch soon,” he told Diadra.
“Someone just walked in the room with you?”
“Sí, that is correct,” he said.
“Well, what if I told you that I love the moment right before you enter me, the look in your eyes. The other moment I’m so anxious to have again is right before you’re ready to cu...,” she started to say but was interrupted by Ed.
“Sí, it was great speaking with you again. I shall be in touch,” and he ended the call, his attention now on Zeta. Diadra had provided him solid advice, and Yuñior planned to put it to good use. He also was not going to be baited into a conversation that would end with him holding himself in his hands using his memory of the feel of her body against his. That was not his way.
“That book is going to be your lifeline,” he said to the young woman. “You’re in charge of Tim and his schedule for the week. Jot down any notes, measurements, and follow ups he needs during his stay. Collect Tim and hit the Señora first and get her on the schedule with Tim. Factor in two 15-minute breaks, one in the morning and one in the afternoon each day he is here.”
Zeta jotted down everything he said.
“After you get the Senora scheduled, coordinate with me to take you and Tim into Bogota, to shop for items you may need. He also has to shop for Tonda and give him a make under,” Yuñior stated. “Any questions?”
“So far Señor, there are no questions,” she said, looking over her notes.
“Oh yeah, Tim needs to outfit you right away. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy clothes and shoes,” Yuñior detailed. “Let’s make this happen.”
YUÑIOR LEFT THE SMALL office, crossing the short distance, passing the Señora’s work space, and coming to his father’s. He tapped on the door as his father waved him inside. Even in their line of work, Yuñior had been raised as a gentleman and would not take a seat until he asked or his father offered.
“Tonda, may we have the room?” Yuñior asked his father’s guard. “Papa, may I have a seat?”
“Of course, mijo,” Eduardo said, watching his son’s face.
“Papa, might I ask a personal question of you?”
“Certainly.”
“When did you know you loved the Señora, and when did you tell her the words?” Yuñior asked the surprised face of his father.
“This is unexpected. I thought surely you were coming to explain the behavior of the man with a beard wearing full makeup who passed out in the floor,” Eduardo said.
“No, I have nothing to say on the matter of Tim. He is very good at what he does. Tim is a learned man and a gifted teacher and stylist,” Yuñior answered. “I do not wish him to alter who he is to suit my needs. I’m learning this through very difficult lessons, but I am worried about the words of I love you.”
“Ah sí, you have spoken these words to the New York woman?”
Yuñior pressed his lips together tightly. “I said them before I realized it, caught in a moment of enjoyment of the conversation. Granted, when I spoke the words, it was over the phone and not in a moment of passion. I am left feeling vulnerable.”
Eduardo was learning a great deal about his son through his relationship with the young lady from New York. He was far more open and dare he say happy.
“Mijo, did you mean the words?”
“Sí Papa. I love and have love for the woman,” he said.
“Are you in love with this Diadree?”
“Diadra, and I’m not sure. I know that I have this feeling for her that makes me think long term before I make each move, versus making a move in the moment,” he explained.
“Okay, if I told you tomorrow that I forbid you to see her ever again and the marriage to Irena will happen in the next two months, how would you feel?”
Yuñior sat still. His dark eyes stared at his father. The intensity of the stare nearly made Eduardo shift in his seat, but he held the gaze, waiting for his words.
“Honestly, I have some funds of my own so if I wanted to
walk away from this life and start fresh under a new name I could,” Yuñior confessed, shocking his father. “I have never disobeyed my father and have stood at your side prepared to take a life, and have taken a life to protect you and what is ours. My heart shall be broken and it may harden me in a way that will never allow me to recuperate, but I am, first and foremost, your son. I am the heir. My responsibility is to the land and my people, family being primary.”
Eduardo had never been prouder of his son at hearing the words spoken eloquently and with emotion. He sat in silence for several minutes before he spoke. He lifted his arm, checking his watch.
“The weekend when you and your brothers met Ryanne, I knew then that I could never let her go,” he confessed. “She was also carrying Isabella, which was noticeable in her figure. We had a fight, mijo. The cartel forced us to marry, and the whole, you know, stupid ceremony in front of all the leaders was nearly too much for Ryanne. I tried to spare her the embarrassment. I tried. Afterwards, she packed her bags and she was going to leave me and right then and there, I broke and told her how much I loved her. If she were to leave me, and I use your words, I would have never recuperated.”
Yuñior’s eyes dropped to his fisted hands. The whole love thing was difficult. He had much to learn. He also had more questions.
“Papa, is it customary to keep a pair of soiled knickers from your lover? It seems rather unsanitary and unsavory, but is this practice normal?”
Eduardo burst into laughter. He could not imagine his eldest son pleasuring himself holding a pair of lacy undies. Andres, yes; he didn’t put anything past that boy. Yuñior, no. The image conjured in his head made him laugh harder.
“There are men who take pleasure in that sort of thing, but to each his own,” Eduardo said. “Son, in two weeks, you shall be able to travel again, but don’t forget, Micah’s fourteenth birthday is around the corner,”
“Sí Papa,” he said, getting to his feet, “thank you for the conversation.”
“I’m always here if you need me, and please, don’t let that fellow get loose on these grounds. I will shoot him,” Eduardo cautioned.
Becoming the Czar Page 9
