“I need to call my brother!” He stands up, pushing his chair back so hard it almost falls before Paul catches it smoothly.
Paul stands and puts a hand to Denny’s shoulder. “Denny, cool it. Let Roy go over it all before you jump to conclusions.”
Dennis’s breath saws in and out as he breathes deeply. He nods jerkily, attempts to slow down his labored breathing, and settles back down, pushing up those glasses again. “Is there more?”
Roy licks his full lips. “Yeah, man. The worst part, I found two more accounts just like it. Hidden in plain sight. Those issues you were talking about, overpayments . . . the payment differences look like they’re paying against those charges that don’t exist when in reality, they’re dumping into those reserve accounts, which also get drained every two weeks.”
“How much money are we talking?” My chest squeezes at the thought that my brother’s mate is getting swindled.
“In Brazilian dollars, for the last three months alone, just over four hundred and fifty thousand reais, which is roughly a hundred and twenty thousand US dollars. About forty grand a month is disappearing. With your import business, the money in and out is shifting between reais, US dollars, euros, pesos, kroner, yen, the English pound, and a host of other currencies across the globe. There’s a lot of money moving, which makes it hard to trace if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Plus, whoever’s doing it knows that the people looking at these financials must not understand every line item.”
“Me.” Dennis hooks a thumb at his own chest. “I’m the person who doesn’t understand every line item. However, my brother, our accountant, and the financial officer should. Though each and every last one of them answers to Fabian.”
“Shee-it.” Royce runs his hand over his head in a move I recognize as discomfort.
“You’re going to tell me that you think my brother is stealing from us. From me. From the entire family, as my parents still get a percentage of the profit so they can live the life they worked so hard for.”
Royce sucks in both lips and nods solemnly. “I can’t prove it just yet, and I would suggest you not approach him until we get more of the facts. Park and I will go in tomorrow, get the goods, talk to some people, do what we do best, and hopefully have a better answer for you.”
Dennis nods as he runs his fingertips along the stacks of papers, seemingly adrift in his thoughts even though he’s sitting right here. “My mother and father are hosting a dinner tomorrow for me and my friends.” He places special inflection on the word friends and looks at Paul, whose jaw goes so tight the guy could break concrete between his teeth.
“Friend, huh?” Paul grumbles, a note of scathing irritation lacing his words.
“Pistola . . .” Dennis puts his hand on Paul’s. “Por favor . . . ,” he pleads.
Paul’s eyes turn hard, flashing with what I know to be anger and maybe even a little bit of hurt. He stands abruptly, and this time his chair does slam back and down to the floor as he kicks it out of the way. Skyler walks over holding two more cocktails, and he turns to her. “Sis, I need something a little fuckin’ stronger.”
She responds instantly. “Rum shots?”
“Marry her, bro,” Paul growls over his shoulder, looking at me with a vicious anger marring his features. I can tell from his gaze and the way he glares at Dennis and back to me before scowling and turning away that his frustration is pointed at his man and not at me.
Skyler, however, misses the entire exchange and smiles like a loon thanks to the compliment my brother gave her. She shimmies her way over to the table to set down the drinks in front of Dennis and Roy. Dennis grabs the drink and swallows down half in one go, ending with a wince and letting out all the breath in his lungs.
“Your brother likes me . . . ,” she teases, then flips her hair over her shoulder confidently and moseys back toward the bar. “Come on, Paulie, let’s get you liquored up!”
“Thank Christ!” he grates through his teeth.
I look at Dennis. “What the hell was that all about?”
He closes his eyes and bites down on that bottom lip, holding something back. “Just a repeating argument. My family hasn’t accepted my sexuality yet. I believe more time seeing Paul and me together will help them understand, but . . .” He shakes his head. “He’ll cool down . . . eventually.”
“Okay. . .” I glance at Royce, and he shrugs. Paul is very clearly pissed off. Dennis looks over at Paul, who—I’ve noticed out of the corner of my eye—has already slammed back two shots of straight rum. Skyler tips the bottle near his glass, and he nods, so she fills it again. He pounds número three back without so much as a reaction when the liquor hits his throat.
Definitely something going on with my brother. I add that to the ever-pressing list of shit to figure out about Paul. With him gone over the years, we lost that brotherly connection, the “end each other’s sentences” thing a lot of blood relatives have when they’re close. Our inside jokes are few and far between, and there’s a distance in my brother’s eyes I don’t know how to breach. If he sticks around this time, I’ll make a point to repair that gap and bring us back to the way we were as kids, which was inseparable.
The doorbell rings, and Paul’s head jerks to it as if someone just cocked a shotgun.
Sky places her hand on his shoulder. “Food? Room service,” she reminds him.
His jaw tightens, and he nods curtly, moving toward the door outside the living area. “Stay here. You’re outta sight at all times.” He points to her, and she lifts her hand to her forehead and gives him a silly salute.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
I chuckle. Fuckin’ goof. And all mine.
Last night we ate, we drank, and when everyone left—Roy to his own room, Dennis and Paul, not speaking to one another except in clipped little whispers, back to Dennis’s home—Skyler and I hit the bed and made love. Most of today was spent at the international import business, going through files and financials and meeting with staff. To say English being a second language for the employees was a severe impediment to my process is putting it lightly. After a while, we agreed that Dennis needed to get us an interpreter who was not him or a member of his family in order for me to grill the staff accordingly and get some real answers that weren’t filtered through the fear of saying something to one of their bosses.
Unfortunately the account information was also more complex than what we’d gathered last night. The accounts feed into alternate accounts and keep going down the line. At the end of a long, tiring day, we had to call in Wendy to do her hacking to figure out where the accounts finally landed and in whose hands. Since we dumped all of this on Wendy just today, she informed us that she needed at least twenty-four hours to do her thing, whatever that entails. We didn’t ask and prefer not to know.
I let out a jagged breath as Skyler laces her fingers with mine and we follow Dennis up the concrete steps of what he told us is his family home. It’s palatial. All one story, dark mahogany trim mixed with an eggshell-white stucco surface. Big pots filled with palm fronds and exotic flowers at the base burst with vibrant colors, adding a welcoming feel. The home is sitting high up on a hill that overlooks a lot of the mountain range we visited yesterday.
Dennis knocks on the door, which I immediately find strange. Back home, Paul and I just walk right in. Maybe it’s a cultural thing. Even stranger than that is the fact that Paul is standing behind Royce, Skyler, and me, instead of at his man’s side. Not something I’d expect for a meet and greet with a family he says he’s met before.
Skyler clutches a bouquet of flowers as I hold on to the bottom of an expensive bottle of wine we picked up at the store. Royce has a white, string-tied box that contains a variety of rich desserts he had the hotel make up for us to offer Dennis’s family. Paul, however, is standing back looking surly even though he dressed up for the occasion, wearing a pair of fitted slacks and a button-up short-sleeved dress shirt. Skyler is in one of her many vibrant dresses, this one a
mixture of green, purple, and yellow. She switched out her shoes from flip-flops to high-heeled, cork-soled wedges. Royce, as ever, is dressed to the nines in a fucking linen suit with a pair of stylish men’s leather sandals. He skipped the tie and opened the top two buttons of his pristinely pressed pale-yellow dress shirt. Me, I went with what I’ve dubbed “tourist chic.” A pair of tan chinos, a white fitted shirt open at the collar, and my navy sport coat, paired with canvas slip-on white boat shoes.
The door flies open, and a petite, round woman opens her arms and embraces Dennis. Her features are similar to Dennis’s; the dark hair and eyes, the shape of her nose and cheekbones clearly make this woman his mother.
“Meu bebê!” she squeals in Portuguese, hugging him tight.
“Mamãe.” He switches quickly to English after his greeting, which I imagine is for our benefit. “It’s good to see you.”
She smiles wide and switches also, her dark gaze coming to our crew. “Welcome, everyone, to our home. I hope you are wanting full bellies!” she says kindly.
Paul makes a snarling noise from behind me, but when I turn around to catch his gaze, he shakes his head and looks off into the distance.
It seems whatever crawled up his ass yesterday, the thing that had him doing shots and chatting up my girl last night, has not yet worn off this evening.
Dennis and his mother lead us in, and I’m taken aback by the unique beauty of his childhood home. Wild colors, textures, and patterns fill the rooms from floor to ceiling. It’s clear to me that they definitely take advantage of their international import business. They have interesting pieces of furniture and sculptures that I’ve seen in different European countries, as well as items that have to be considered Asian inspired—not to mention the interesting mix of tapestries hanging on the walls that I’d venture to guess came from the Middle East and India.
We walk down a few steps and are met with a dozen faces, some standing and holding drinks, others stuffing their faces with what I now know is pastel, and two sitting on the couch. A group of children race between us and off through the rest of the adults, squealing and laughing as they go. Overall, it looks like a family barbecue back home. The scents of fresh-baked bread and grilling meats permeate the air, making my belly growl and my mouth water.
Skyler eases an arm around my waist and waits for Dennis to make introductions.
“Everyone, these are my friends from America. Last few times I was home you met my friend Paulo; this is his brother, Parker, and Parker’s girlfriend, Skyler . . .” One of the females in the group gasps, her eyes going wide as she covers her mouth. Dennis continues undaunted. “This is Royce, a friend and business partner of Parker’s. They are also here to look into some issues at work at my request.”
Dennis points at the different people in the room, going over their names, but my mind is on repeat, stuck in a loop on the word friend as he referenced Paul. He didn’t say boyfriend, mate, or partner as I would have expected. Back home, Paul introduced Dennis as his boyfriend and made it very clear they were in a relationship, a very serious relationship. My parents were shocked, as any parents would be when their child suddenly announces they’re bisexual, and not only that, but they’re bringing home a partner to be introduced into the family. It was different, but what I’m seeing here is making my spidey senses flare.
I’m getting the feeling that either Dennis hasn’t come out to his family, or he hasn’t told them that Paul is his boyfriend yet.
But why?
Once introductions are made, a woman who looks similar to Dennis and his mother but is definitely older than Dennis by a good decade comes and takes him into her arms. “Meu irmãozinho,” she says against his hair. The woman is lovely, her dark hair streaked stylishly with blonde highlights, beautiful with her tanned, honey-brown skin tone. She moves out of Dennis’s arms, still cupping his cheeks as she switches to English. “I see you are very happy.” Her gaze goes to Paul, who’s standing at the edge of our group, shrinking into the background. “Might I believe it has something to do with your handsome man?” She gestures with her chin to Paul.
Okay, so he’s come out to the family, but something’s not adding up.
Dennis looks over his shoulder at Paul. “He makes me the happiest man in the world, Raissa.”
She pats his cheek lovingly. “That’s good. My baby brother deserves happiness, regardless of what Mãe e Pai have to say about it. You know I’m always here for you.”
“Sim, irmã. I know you are. Obrigado.” He repeats the word I know means “thank you.”
She moves out of his arms, hugs Paul, and whispers a few words into his ear. He nods, but a flash of pain and hurt moves across Paul’s normally stoic face. He’s hurting, and he’s not talking about it.
Skyler nudges me. “Honey, something’s wrong with Paul.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and bring her close to my chest. “I know, baby. I’m going to get to the bottom of it, but I have a sinking feeling in my gut about what’s going on.”
Once Dennis’s sister shakes Royce’s hand, she comes over to me. “Parker, Skyler, in case you didn’t catch it in introductions, I’m Raissa, Dennis’s big sister. I’m very glad to meet you. And Skyler, I’m a huge fan of your movies. They are given subtitles here, and I’ve seen them all. You are a true gift to the acting world.” Skyler beams and shakes Raissa’s hand.
“Come, let’s get you all some food and drink. We Brazilians have the best food,” Raissa says with a whopping dose of pride.
“Oh, you are not kidding. Dennis took us out on Copacabana Beach yesterday for breakfast and later for treats on Sugarloaf Mountain, and last night, we had room service . . . my goodness.” Sky rubs her belly. “We’ve had a wide range of amazing Brazilian dishes, each one better than the last. I’m going to gain five pounds at least.”
Raissa smiles sweetly. “Well, if you do not gain ten during your time here, we have done you a disservice.”
Skyler and I both laugh and follow the classy lady into the kitchen. Once there, we’re introduced once more to their mother, Lucia, and father, Cadu. I watch closely as Dennis interacts with his family, but he stays a good distance away from Paul. When we were in Boston, they were nearly inseparable; here they’re acting as though there’s an ocean between them.
Paul follows the group around from room to room silently, not partaking in any conversation. This, in and of itself, is not unusual with Paul because he’s generally more of a listener than a talker, but it’s as if he’s purposely trying to avoid bringing any attention to his presence.
Being a family man and not liking the vibe I’m getting between Paul and most of Dennis’s family, I enter into the fray boldly, inserting myself right next to Skyler, who’s talking to Cadu and Lucia on the expansive deck outside. Currently they’re asking Sky about her latest film.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and wait for my time. It happens quickly when Raissa enters the conversation and asks how things are back in Boston. Instead of telling her that there’s a psycho trying to kill me and keep Skyler as his love slave or whatever it is the fucker wants, I turn the subject to Paul and Denny.
“Really good. Though I will say my mother and father are so excited that Paul is settling down with Dennis. They worry about their boys, and knowing Dennis is taking care of Paul while Sky takes care of me has my mother practically planning our weddings.” I laugh jokingly.
Paul’s entire body goes tight. Dennis lets out a long breath and frowns.
Still, I continue. “I mean, sure, it was weird at first to find out that Paul had a boyfriend, but we all love Dennis so much, we couldn’t be happier.”
“Park!” Paul barks, but I ignore him and carry on.
“And of course, seeing them in love is such a joy for my mother and the entire family. Dennis is amazing. You’ve raised a great man. I’ll be lucky to have him as my brother-in-law one day.”
The entire deck goes completely silent. Every member of the Romoaldo
clan stops what they’re doing and stares at Cadu and Lucia.
I can almost hear crickets singing in the landscape beyond before his mother tenses, her expression devoid of emotion, as she looks right at me and breaks my fucking heart.
“Dennis will marry your brother over my cold dead body.” Her words are seething with intensity. “They are not a couple. They will never be a couple. Bite your tongue with your blasphemous allegations. My son may have been confused over your brother’s charms, but we have worked this issue out within the family. He would never disgrace our family’s good name or go against our God with such depravity.”
“Mamãe, stop. Please.” Dennis attempts to get her to calm down.
She squints and narrows her gaze even more. “I thought we agreed you would not bring that man into my house again. I detest everything he stands for. Attempting to turn my boy into something he’s not.”
“Mamãe, Paul is in my life. I agreed not to bring up my sexual orientation and pretend in your presence, but nothing is ever going to change. I am a gay man.”
Lucia covers her ears. “I’ll not hear such disgusting words in my home!”
Her husband scowls and puts his arms around her, speaking in rapid-fire Portuguese under his breath while moving her from our small circle and taking her into the house.
“What the fuck just happened?” I growl, eyes on Dennis. “You brought us here, knowing that they hate my brother? Why would you do that?” Skyler places her hand on my back and runs her hand up and down in a soothing gesture. She knows me well.
At my tone, Paul approaches and places both hands on Dennis’s shoulders in what I assume is a gesture of support. “It’s no big deal, Park. This happens every time we come. We just don’t engage with one another much, which usually keeps the peace.”
“I . . . I . . . This is bullshit!” I let go, my anger ripping through me at a hundred miles an hour. “You can’t pretend you’re something you’re not. That’s ludicrous. And they despise you, Paul. That’s why you’ve been so surly since we found out last night we were coming here.” I splutter out my words. “Why are we even here?” I shake my head and slice the air with my hand. “Dennis, I’m sorry, but your family is jacked up.”
International Guy: Volume 4 Page 21