by DJ Wilson
“Thanks, Debra. It’s good to know I still have a few friends left. Your hospitality has been over the top this trip. Vic, I’m sure it’s because of you. Usually, I’m left to fend for myself after a long day’s hunt, sitting around with a bunch of old farts, sipping whisky, drinking beer and telling lies.”
“They weren’t all lies,” Greg interjected, rising from the table. “What time are you heading out in the morning? Debra will need to know to have breakfast ready.”
Looking at my not so early riser sitting beside me, my mind said seven, but her mind meld purred eight. “Eight should be early enough.” Judging by Vic’s approving nod, Mr. Spock’s talents had struck again.
We crashed. Sleep came quickly. My morning came quicker as I bolted from the bed somewhere around 3 AM in a cold sweat, realizing I was supposed to call Giovanni on Italy time. Six hours ahead or is it six hours behind? It’s too early to think, that’s for sure. I eased quietly from the bed and crept out the door to keep my rumblings from disturbing Vic. Rummaging through my bag, I found last weeks phone as well as his stored number. I pressed send. On the fifth ring, Gio answered groggily, “Ciao.”
“Gio, D. Did I wake you? I’m sorry. What time is it in Italy?”
“Cuze?…D ... that you?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call you back later if you’ll tell me a good time.”
“Good now. Me sleep. Now not.”
“My bad. Six hour time difference or seven. I can’t remember. What time is it there?”
“Phone say five one five.”
“Where are you, pal? That’s eastern time.”
“Me and Mile in Tampa, Candice, too.”
“What’s going on? Why are you not in Italy? How did you find Major? Has something happened to Candi?” I hit him with rapid-fire question after question, wondering if I was prepared for the answers that would follow.
“You speak, slow ... D. Mile, me OK, Candice not. We stay. You come; we go home. She find dog, find you. How you say ... my advice? When you come? Candice not happy; she sad. You come now.”
“Gio, it’s not that easy. Candi chose Joseph over me when she got on the plane. Candi chose Joseph when she screwed his brains out sometime in the last few days. Why would she now choose me?”
“She protect you and lady friend lawyer, Vic-toria. She good girl. You see, she explain. She no screw Joseph. You wrong. She not like him now. She like you.”
“I could protect us, I was protecting us. She blew it.”
“She make right. You see, D. Joseph bad; you good. When you come; you see.”
“I want to talk to her. I can’t promise anything. I’ll call back at eight. Answer your phone, OK?”
“OK, D. You see. I wake her.”
“Not now, pal. At eight, Gio. Thanks.” I hung up without saying good-bye. Shame on me. Too much to process this early in the morning. I can see Candi taking the ledgers to claim the reward, especially if it appeased Joseph. Maybe even to protect me? Still, why would she screw him on film? Who does that today? Open ended questions that deserved a damn good explanation. I wanted to believe Gio. I so wanted to believe Candi. Is there a method to her madness? Damn you, woo-hoo ... Damn you!
Walking the streets for the next two and a half hours was not my best idea to date. It was friggin’ cold and dark. My only saving grace was the cloudless starry sky that shined down on me. Even though it looked somewhat criminal in nature, me strolling through town in the wee morning hours, it did provide me the solitude to lay out a plan of action in my head if I chose to invade Florida and mount a rescue operation of sorts. Rescue operation? You’re dreaming, D. How long has it been since you played soldier? How many years have passed since you had at your beck and call, the power of the Tactical Air Command and the Special Ops team you fondly referred to as family? Where are those guys now? How many made lifers through their service to our country? Who can I still count on to mount an operation to assist me in my quest? You are so getting ahead of yourself. First things first. Talk to Candi, hear her side and then decide. How can you rescue someone who may not want to be rescued? You are such a ... a ... PUTZ!
Chapter 37
Tampa Bay
Strolling through my neighborhood in the early morning hours to clear my head of distractions, waifs of sulphur emitting from the neighbor’s lawn sprinklers permeated the heavy and humid air. Even growing up here, my stomach still churns, each time I breathe in that horrendous odor. Come to think of it, I never experienced this problem in Chattanooga. I liked living in Tennessee. Regardless of what happens, maybe I should go back. Life was simpler there and drama free. I’ve taken a month’s leave of absence from work. So I’ve got some time to think about it. First things first, beginning tomorrow, turn in the ledgers to the Family, unlock the encryption codes to prove their authenticity and collect the reward, before splitting it with Joseph. Will that satisfy him? Will he continue to drag me back into his life? Too many questions, compounded by very few answers. Oh well … I sighed before being rattled back into reality as my phone vibrated, then chirped twice, signaling incoming text messages from Marcy, no less.
Text 1: We’re good to go after next Thursday, Candice. I’ve got work covered. Booked a flight on Southwest, Thursday late. See you Friday.
Text 2: Any word from D?
I replied to both:
That’s great. Wish you would allow me to send the plane. Will be great to spend time with you girl. We’re going to have fun. LOL. Sadly, there’s been nothing from D. Thanks for asking.
The rest of the morning I filled with catching up on the news. The instant diamond gifted millionaires continued to make headlines across CNN, MSN and FOX. So much for being discreet. Most of D’s recipients were quiet for the most part. It was only a select few that couldn’t keep their mouths shut, relishing in their 30 seconds of fame. The afternoon was a different story.
Gio hobbled into the kitchen with Mile in tow, plopping down on the bar stool next to me. “We go shopping, Candice, for party.”
“Not now, Gio. It can wait,” I countered, knowing I had nothing left in my arsenal of excuses to delay this spree.
“We go now!”
I relented. Snagging Mom’s keys to her X-5, I helped Gio into the front seat as Mile climbed in the back. “I remember there’s a leather place up in New Port Richey, but I don’t remember the name.”
“We go, we find. Let’s ride,” directed Gio, pointing his forefinger forward across the dash.
I laughed, “That’s it, Gio. The store, it’s called Let’s Ride.” His puzzled look was priceless. I didn’t attempt to explain, pulling through our security gates and driving northwest towards Port Richey. Conversing with Mile in Italian while en-route to the leather shop, I learned she was ready to go home with or without Giovanni.
Gio, sensing her unhappiness, more in her tone than her words, wormed his way into our conversation before I could find out why. “She not want to see you hurt. Mile miss D and you, how you say ... together?”
Speaking only Italian now, “I can’t fix us by myself, he has to want to as well. I’m sorry you were dragged in the middle of this. It’s not your place to make it better. This is all on me. I lied to him, not once, not twice, but three times. And he knows it. Why should he care what happens to me?”
“He good man,” countered Gio. “His eyes speak so.”
Oh ... his eyes, his brown bedroom eyes. “I remember the first time D kissed me by the waterfalls. He was gentle, yet powerful, selfless, but confident. He knew how far he was willing to go with me ... I am sorry, you don’t need to hear all this.” After my confessional, I felt Mile’s hand patting my right shoulder.
“D, good for you,” Mile added, before lifting her hand off my shoulder, hesitating just a second, before slapping Gio squarely on the cheek. “You be good.”
A litany of Italian curse words filled the SUV as Gio rubbed his face, smarting from the sting of her open palm. “Mile ... she say I should be good for her like D for y
ou,” he laughed as I pulled into the parking lot of Let’s Ride.
Timing is everything, whew! “Come on guys, let’s go make me into a Pretty Woman slash biker babe or bitch, for that matter,” I mumbled the last words softly under my breath. A well-deserved moniker Joseph assigned to me at the end of our tumultuous and troubled marriage, forever and a day, ago.
An hour later and twelve hundred dollars lighter, I had chaps, boots, a jacket, a belt and a red thong. My plan was to wear my red silk Donna Karan Caftan Gown to the Gala before changing into leathers for the party that followed. I wasn't sure about the red thong. That was for D’s eyes only, on his bike and with my toy, if and when, the stars aligned and we were together again. Mile, not to be denied, found a pair of Italian red leather pants, size eight and a matching vest while Gio came away with a patch for his jacket. Oh, and a sizable decrease in the thickness of his wallet. Treat her good, Gio, I thought, or she will take you for all you’re dumb enough to give her before she kicks your rear to the curb.
Just for kicks and giggles, the three of us had dinner out at Byrne’s on the way home. I was hoping to meet up with Lisa again to see if she remembered me. Sadly, she was not working today. Probably off somewhere laying her head in the lap of the guy with the red Ferrari. What do I care? I don’t, but then again, I do. What idiot in their right mind, sincerely trying to get back together would bring me to his local haunt and introduce me to his fave bimbo? I hate to admit it, but we’re both playing the same type of game as Gio and Mile. Only our stakes were much, much higher.
Once we got home, having enough of being social, I said my goodnights to everyone, turned on Sinatra, snuggled up to a pillow and fell asleep. It was not the sound of the alarm that roused me from sleep, but Gio’s strong calloused hand jostling my shoulder.
“You get up. Candice, now! D, he call in dark. He call back, say talk to you.” Pointing to the time on the phone, 7:30, “D call 8:00.”
Chapter 38
Mistatim, SK
Tampa Bay, FL
It was 7:55 Eastern time and I found myself sitting alone in the not so fragrant Green Mule hoping to dredge up the right words to begin the conversation with Candi at eight o’clock sharp.
Do I act mad? I’m not. Do I act hurt? I was. Now, however, I’m just … totally numb to it all. We had great times together, many of them firsts, and told many lies that are going to be hard to overcome unless we both somehow manage to forgive, forget and move the hell on. What choice did I have? What choice did we have? I pressed send.
On the fourth ring, Gio answered. “Ciao, D. I wake Candice. You talk; I leave. Ciao.”
“Ciao, Giovanni. Thank you.” I hesitated, hoping that Candi would speak first. That didn’t happen. The silence was deafening. It surely was not golden. Clearing the emerging lump from my throat, I began, “Candi, you wanted me to call, so here I am.”
I’ve waited days for this moment and now that it’s here I’m speechless. Say something, anything. “D, are you still on your bike? How are you? Are you in Canada or back in the U.S.? How is the weather where you are?” Question after stupid question rolled off my tongue like olive oil off a hot Teflon skillet, to the point that I’d somehow managed to forget the first few questions I’d asked to begin this long anticipated conversation. Girl, you are hopeless!
“Candi, surely you didn’t go to all this trouble to find me just to ask me about the weather? What’s going on in that mind of yours and how can I help?”
He’s right ... speak from your head, your heart ... “I miss you. I’ve missed you since the moment I stepped onto the plane. Just listen. Let me finish, I know you think I screwed you and by all accounts I did. D, I didn’t have a choice. Joseph and the boys were not coming back without you, one way or the other. That is, until I convinced them otherwise. I was in it for the money, nothing more. Our pseudo relationship was a means to an end. I thought he believed me then. Now, I’m not so sure. God knows, I’ve tried to protect you and Victoria. Believe me ... or not. I also know I’ve hurt you. I’m ... I am so sorry. Say something, D. ... Please.”
“Candi, I gave you the ledgers to Fed Ex to your Mom. You didn’t send them. This could have all been averted had you done that one simple task. You played me. After all the confessions and tears, you played me. The question of the day, the week, the year is why?”
“I didn’t play you, damn it! Joseph was determined to take you out. He was jealous of the way I looked at you, dressed for you, cared for you. He knew something unexpected had happened between us on our ride. There could never be an us. I mean, unless you were out of the picture. I couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t have let me go. Had I not done what he wanted, both you and Vic would be history.”
“I’ve managed to take care of myself so far and you too, for that matter. So this was all for me, for Vic? I’m humbled.” Bite your tongue. Don’t go there, D. Not yet. Hear her out.
“Please don’t be catty. If I could see you, hold you, kiss you, you’d know ... I’m speaking the truth from my heart.”
“Is that what it takes Candi, holding me, kissing me, blowing me, screwing me, for me to know beyond a shadow of a doubt you’re telling the truth?” You just had to go there. Didn’t you, dumb ass?
Where did that come from? “D, I never said anything about sex. Where did that come from? Why are you being hateful and mean when I’m trying my best to apologize?”
“Never mind, Candi. You’re right; you didn’t mention anything about sex. I took unnecessary liberties, especially after seeing you banging Joseph’s brains out on the internet. I can only surmise you were telling him the truth also, in little increments, one bump and grind at a time.”
What did he see? There is absolutely no tape of me having sex with Joseph ... or is there? OMG! “D, I need to know. What did you see and when?”
“A few days ago, Jim at WITSEC received an anonymous email with a video attachment that was forwarded to me, showing you banging someone, I’m only assuming now mind you, Joseph’s brains out.”
“Listen to me please. This is important. What was on the video? What did the room look like? What was I wearing? What exactly was I doing?”
You’ve done it now. Foot in mouth has moved to head up ass. “I can’t answer any of those questions, Candi. Vic watched it and shared the highlights, if you will. The man’s face was obscured, but his generous package wasn’t. She said you looked like you were really getting into it, on it ... whatever the hell you were doing.”
That bastard, Joseph had the camera rolling the whole time. “I can explain ... On second thought, there’s nothing to explain, it is what it is. Yes, I had sex with him. Yes, it was good. Let’s just say I did it for old time’s sake. Are you happy now? Wait! Wait! Is Vic still with you?”
“Yep… Candi, I wasn’t happy then, I’m not happy now. And it has little to do with you and Joseph. That’s your business. After all, you have a much longer history with him than with me. More than anything, I want to believe you. I’m trying, but as of late, you’ve made it extremely difficult. I want things back the way they were. Is that even possible? You screw me and tell me what I want to hear. You screw Joseph and tell him what he wants to hear. I have one question for you, do you even know what the truth is anymore?”
I deserved that. What am I supposed to say? “D, I did what I had to do. I didn’t knowingly have sex in front of a camera to purposely hurt you. I’m better than that. You know I’m better than that. No matter what happens between us, promise me you won’t watch the tape without me. Please have Vic, along with your friend Jim at WITSEC erase it, destroy it, get rid of it. It could ruin me, my career ... us. I’m sorry ... so sorry.” I pressed end, threw the phone on the bed and buried myself in a pillow and cried.
She hung up on me, crying. You are an even bigger putz! You had to bring it up? She started it; I finished it. No, you started it and you finished it. She was caught unaware. D, you are one hypocritical SOB. Now what? Call her back ... and say what, ‘I
’ve been sleeping with Vic, so we’re even?’ Doubt if that would go over well ... Say something comforting, meaningful, worthwhile. But what? She was crying because of my cruel, venom spewing mouth. I needed to make her stop crying. I pressed send.
Candi, between sniffles, answered, “Yes.”
“Don’t hang up again. I’m no saint either. I’m far from perfect and way out of your league. Your family wants nothing to do with me. I’m too old for you. I’m out of shape. I can go on and on. You could tell me to stop, you know?”
I snorted, “Stop!”
“Thank you,” I stammered, breathing an instant sigh of relief. “I was beginning to get a complex, talking myself right out of us. There are a thousand and one reasons why we shouldn’t be together, but there’s one very important reason why we should — we compliment each other to the ten-thousandth degree. Oh, there’s actually two — I make you laugh.”
I stopped crying long enough to laugh at his silliness. That’s what I like so much in him, he does make me laugh even when I absolutely want to cry.
“It’s never been about the money, I know that. I’ve always known that. You wanted to prove your value to the Family. Congratulations girl, mission accomplished. Me, I wanted to bring out the best in you. You are smart, attractive, self-assured and selfless. Don’t you go swelling with pride on me just yet. That last trait has only manifested itself since we’ve been together. I consider you a masterpiece in the making, a work of art in progress. Now, I’m only supposing here, what you saw in me was someone who’s been kicked to the curb and back and still manages to come up swinging with a smile on his face. Someone who makes lemonade out of lemons and convinces you beyond your good judgment it’s good even when you know the lemons I used were rotten. Yep, I’ve been trying to tell you there’s a fair amount of good in everything and everyone. More times than not, however, you find yourself digging a little deeper in the cow poop to find it.”