by Hunter Jones
He heard James close the door from the distance of the third floor. Tomorrow, he would have to let him know of Mr. van Lee’s will and estate. James would confide what the two had discussed in the hospital room so that Frank could record it for the trustees of the estate. But he could never tell James of the secret clause until the right moment, and that moment wouldn’t happen for years to come. His phone buzzed and he saw that Sugar was calling.
“Sugar, how are you?” he whispered.
“I’m fine, Frank. How is James? What about you?” she asked in her dulcet, Italian-tinted English.
“He is surprisingly calm and wishes to be alone tonight. We won’t be at the main house, so use it as you wish. I’ll stay here. Or, why don’t you come over?” he asked. “James is in the guest room. You and I can have the master suite all to ourselves. Would you like that, baby?”
“You know I love being with you, Frank. I’ll be right over as soon as I get some clothes on.”
“Don’t bother. Just throw on a coat. The doormen will let you in; they recognize you and you have the key. I can’t wait to see you.” He paused and took a drink. “It’s been a long day.”
“I love you, Frank. See you in a few minutes,” she whispered and clicked the phone line off.
Frank took a sip of his cocktail as his mind drifted back to the morning he found Sugar. It was just before dawn on a cool Tuscan morning. He had been out drinking all night and was on his way back to his hotel when he heard a girl’s voice from the alleyway, offering him a blowjob for five dollars.
“I’m not American,” he replied in Italian.
“English, it will be ten Pounds. If you are Italiano, only three Euro,” she replied.
He turned and saw her petite silhouette in the shadows. Moving toward her, he pulled her out of the alley.
“My God, how old are you?”
“Fifteen,” she said. He took her face in his hands, looking at her as the sun peered across the Florentine hills. He moved the hair from her face, amazed at how exquisite her bone structure was and her eyes were like ebony pools.
“You’re lying. How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen, but if I tell anyone that, I’ll never make any money!”
“You’re coming with me!”
“No, I’m not. I don’t know you!”
“You just offered me a five-dollar blowjob, but you won’t leave with me? Something tells me you aren’t a very good whore.”
She giggled and he saw a slight blush cross her face. That was their first night together, but instead of sex, he had given her a room and a clean place to stay for two weeks. After that, he offered her a position as his personal assistant, which she accepted. He never touched her until they had known each other for almost three years.
One evening, as they were reviewing notes for the next day, Sugar looked at him and said, “Frank, I know that I work for you, and it is against the rules, but as a friend, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, you may ask me anything.”
“Do you find me attractive, even a little?” Her dark eyes pleaded with him.
“Honestly?”
“Yes. I must have an answer,” she said.
He pushed his chair back from his desk, looked outside his office window for a moment, and without turning back toward her, said, “Come over here and find out for yourself.”
They had been inseparable since then. The first few days they had remained locked in his penthouse office, exactly where they would be tonight. Her sexual appetite was insatiable and he couldn’t resist her. He had to know everything about her, in every conceivable way.
Her real name was Rosa Anna Lorenzo, but for Frank, she would forever be Sugar. He knew that someday they would marry, whenever she decided the time was right. But, in the meantime, he enjoyed watching her sow her wild oats and live out her every fantasy. Making her happy made him happy. She was studying acting and making connections quickly, which made him extremely proud of her and delighted to watch her ambitions manifest. As for now, they loved James, and this was undoubtedly the most cherished time of Frank’s life. He twirled the ice in his cocktail glass and looked at the shadows cast by the candlelight on the walls. The mists of the North Sea softly danced on the windowpanes. Tomorrow morning, he would continue the review of James’s father’s estate. Tonight, he and Sugar would be there for James in case the nightmares assaulted him. Life is so strange, he thought. Often, in a world of complexity, it takes three completely unfathomable people to make everything understandable.
Chapter 5
Frank showered and dressed, leaving Sugar in bed. The sun peeked through the clouds and the day promised to be bright. He would work out later. As he kissed her goodbye, even in her sleep, she pulled him toward her, mumbling that she loved him. He often wondered why he worked when he could stay with her, but knew her dreams and ambitions must be realized; only then could he achieve his own goals of fulfillment. Likewise with James. He owed it to his friend to give as much to their friendship as he had been given. It was the only fair and loyal code of honor that a true gentleman kept for the people he loved.
He adjusted his cufflinks and blue tie as he looked at himself in the mirror. He noticed the door to the suite James had slept in was ajar, and wondered if James had left the door open last night. Walking down the staircase, he was surprised to find James sitting at the breakfast bar with his iPad in hand, chatting away with the chef. The blinds had already been opened and the floor-to-ceiling glass showed the promise of an early spring day.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well? Or did you sleep at all?” James said, tossing his head back with a laugh.
Frank looked into his eyes. “How did you know?”
“You did it in case I had nightmares. Come on, Frank. We’ve been friends for a while. I know how you think,” James replied, a slight smile crossing his face. He motioned across the bar. “Here, sit here and have a coffee. Let’s talk about what you found out about the old man’s estate. Then, I want to tell you something while we have breakfast.”
Frank smiled at the young man, walked the short distance to the lounge, and returned with his iPad. “Do you really want to know about this so early in the morning?”
Adrian, their French chef, placed a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee in front of Frank, along with the matching white porcelain creamer. Frank nodded and said, “Thank you.”
James watched his every move as Frank placed the cream in the cup. Taking a sip of the coffee, he looked at Adrian and said, “Can you bring us our usual breakfast, please?” He turned to James. “Did you want anything different this morning?”
“No, I’m fine with two scrambled eggs and toast. Maybe a small soy milk, please?”
Adrian replied, “Of course, gentlemen. Give me a few minutes.” With that, he brushed an unseen crumb that only a chef would espy off the concrete bar and walked to the spotless kitchen he maintained in the connecting portion off the breakfast suite.
Stretching his arms behind his head, James said, “While he’s away, can you give me a brief idea of what you have found out regarding the estate, please?”
Frank looked him in the eyes and said, “You know you can trust him.”
“You can trust no one when money is involved.”
Frank took a deep breath, hoping James spoke from emotion but feeling his heart break a little from the young man’s words. He could control Sugar, but James was wild. There was no controlling him, no domesticating him. He knew that James would be the one who would one day break his heart, but he also knew that somehow loving him would be worth the risk. The dagger to the heart would be well worth the ride to the end of the chase.
He saw the emotion in James’s blue eyes. “I will give it to you straight, as the Americans say. He was worth billions. It is all in trusts, set up in accounts around the world and overseen by trustees. They are to report to me. He at least did that for you.”
James nodded in approval. He ran his left han
d through his hair and said, “Did he mention my mother and her parents?”
Frank noticed he folded his hands together and sat them on the countertop, much like a child would when asking for special permission.
James looked at Frank and said, “Did he?”
“No, nothing.”
“Will you find the documents my grandparents signed for me?”
“Yes,” Frank said. The aroma of the coffee took him out of the moment, into a time when he and James had spent more pleasant mornings with Sugar asleep upstairs.
He sat the cup down and continued, “He left nothing for you.”
“We expected that. No surprise there, plus I have my own money,” James said.
“Here is the surprise, James. Did you know that long ago, a famous Russian movie star had a Romani grandmother? His dream was that a European foundation be established. Your father left fifty million dollars for this to become a reality. You are to be the director. You can either run it publicly or anonymously. That is for you to decide. You may also draw a salary from the foundation of four point five million a year.”
“He would do such a thing? Really?”
“It’s true, James.” A shadow of a cloud passed outside the glass of the penthouse. At the same time, Frank noticed a flash of emotion as James raised his brows in a momentary reaction of disbelief. Footsteps on the hardwood floor let them know that Adrian returned with their simple breakfasts of eggs and toast.
“If you could bring us a fresh pot of coffee, you are free to do as you wish today, Adrian. Please check the manse on the straat and ensure that the staff has what they need.”
“As you wish,” Adrian replied.
“We may leave Amsterdam for a month or two, Adrian,” James said. Frank attempted to hide his surprise behind his napkin as James said this. “If we do, please keep an eye on both homes in Amsterdam, as well as our apartment in Paris. I will make it well worth your time, not only for the work but to keep it our secret.”
“Yes, I understand,” Adrian said. He smiled and began to grind the fresh beans for their beverages. After working for many years at Veltzen Enterprises, he knew the value of keeping a secret, especially when it involved James. He would do anything the men requested of him. After he finished the coffee, he placed the pot on the counter and bid them goodbye.
Frank poured the cream in his cup, stirred the fresh java, and said, “Let’s go to my office.”
James tossed his white napkin on the counter next to the stainless sink in which he placed his dishes.
“The cleaners will be in later to do that,” Frank said. Seeing him in jeans and a white t-shirt was almost more than he could handle. He looked so sexy. It was all Frank could do to maintain his composure. He wanted to take his hand and go upstairs. They could wake up Sugar, as they had done so often. This isn’t the time.
They walked the short distance to the office. The sheer blinds remained over the glass. When Frank reached to open then, James said, “No, I like the darker room. It matches the cool grey tone of your leather furniture. Let’s leave it dark.” He stepped inside the office and closed the door soundly behind him, turning to lock it. James had never done that since they had been friends and the movement was so enticing it made Frank’s heart skip a beat. He noticed James placed his iPad on a side table and that he had no shoes on his feet this morning. James lounged on the sofa, his long frame taking the entire length of the couch. Frank sat at his desk.
Stretching his arms in front of his chest, then flexing his fingers, James eventually said, “What of his Romanov story? Is it true?”
“There was one son of Czar Nicholas I who escaped into northern Europe instead of Paris. It was assumed he went to Denmark, but anything was possible at that time, with the Bolshevik Revolution and World War I. He was your grandfather. The story of your father is proving to be correct. The story of the missing Romanov diadem, also known as the favorite tiara of Empress Catherine, is a true story. We will have to have your DNA analyzed, as well as that of the ring, in order to obtain the correct answers.”
I already know the answer to both. His share of the Romanov inheritance is locked away in the Cayman Islands, Switzerland, and Luxembourg, but it will go to the children of James. He is not to know of the money until his first child is born. Since the money and the jewels belonged to the family, James will not be subject to criminal charges because you can’t be penalized for inheriting your family’s wealth.
James looked out the window for a moment, as if he sensed something. He looked at Frank, who absentmindedly adjusted his shirt collar.
Frank cleared his throat and continued speaking. “One interesting anecdote, since you enjoy history, the sapphire of your ring has an intriguing story in itself. It is from the tiara and was originally the sapphire England’s King Henry VIII gave to his doomed Queen Anne Boleyn. Russia’s Catherine had to have the sapphire at any price after she visited England’s Hampton Court Palace. She designed the piece for the exquisite jewel. The ring you have loved your entire life holds the history and hearts of kings and queens of Europe. Some had fairy tale love affairs, others did not. But the ring is priceless and it is yours.”
“Will I be arrested for having the ring?” James asked, looking at the piece that had meant so much to him throughout his life.
“Criminal charges can’t be placed against someone’s heirlooms. We shall keep it a secret, just in case.” Frank smiled and James felt better.
“Then I am free of the old man?”
“Yes, you can structure the Romani foundation as you see best. You can contract it or work on it yourself. Take your time to decide. This is all new.”
“Good advice, as always, Frank. Thank you for being my friend and advisor.” James stood and patted Frank’s shoulder as a thank you. Then he turned and removed his t-shirt, casually throwing it over the sofa arm. The sun began to peek through the cloud cover outside.
“Now I will show you what I see and understand.” The younger man reached over to his iPad. He touched a couple of apps and pulled up a program. He curled up at the foot of Frank’s desk chair. The older man looked down at the symbols on the screen.
“What are these?”
“These are called Sabian symbols. When I don’t have access to natural objects to assist in my visualization and mediations, I’ve found a psychic in New Orleans and an astrologer in Sydney who have helped me draw and create this program I can use for my guidance. For instance, we are approaching a full moon at four degrees in Libra and the Sun moves in Aries as we approach Spring Equinox. Big changes are on the way. Losing the old man is merely the start.”
“I will take your word for this.” Frank laughed good-naturedly.
“Yes, I understand the esoteric and metaphysical. You handle the worldly matters. We are an ace team, aren’t we?” His smile would melt Antarctica and Frank believed everything. He moved closer to the symbols on the screen. “Now what are we looking at?”
“The Sun in Aries brings new beginnings. It’s when we start adventures and go out into the world. We trust in our inner fire to know what we should do. The Libra Moon gives us a mirror to view how others see and interact with us and how well we cooperate with others while we’re doing our thing. It’s time to treat each other with respect and courtesy, and work toward a fair and balanced relationship with ourselves, each other, and with Mother Nature. The Sabian symbol for the Sun at 4* Aries is: Two lovers strolling on a secluded walk. This is big for Aries, because it’s supposedly the sign of the individual. It’s all about me! I Am that I AM. Aries first. And yet the symbol is one of partnership – the secret desire of an Aries’ heart. Who better to want someone who is also on the same search for true Identity that is Aries longed-for goal?”
“What does this actually mean, James?” Frank asked, not really understanding the younger man’s logic, yet curious to discover more about how he felt.
“It’s a new start, Frank. I want us to go to New York for a while. The old man sa
id my grandparents went to the US. Let’s go for two months. You and me. We can be anonymous there. You can fly Sugar over, come home when you want. Just give me time to find them before the tour starts in May. The Sabian symbol of the two lovers must be them. I have to know they are okay, Frank. And they need to know that their little James is there for them.”
He placed the iPad on the floor beside him. Looking up at Frank, he gazed into the man’s eyes. Nothing was said as he ran his hands along the thighs of the expensive Kiton suit Frank wore. He softly massaged the man’s inner thighs and Frank placed his head back as he heard James unbuckle his belt, then unzip his pants. Within minutes, Frank was mesmerized by the charms of James and the rest of the world no longer existed.
By three that afternoon, Frank and James were on Frank’s plane on the way to Manhattan, leaving Sugar in charge of what Frank called the “European Operations.” She would join them this weekend if she didn’t have an audition. The men waved to her as they pulled away from the building and never saw her tears. They would never know what her heart whispered.
James had to find his family and explained everything to Sugar before the two men left. Somehow he knew that Frank would return, but he knew intuitively that his love affair with her was over, although she and Frank did not yet know this. As she waved good-bye to the two men, a lone tear dropped down James’s right cheek as he looked out the limo window to see Sugar holding her hands to her eyes, her breasts heaving in uncontrolled sobs. The sun moved behind a cloud as if to portend his feelings, yet a soft breeze held the promise of spring and the yellow daffodils blooming at the roadside spoke of other beginnings.
Atlanta, Georgia
Chapter 6
Every morning when Maggie woke up, her first thought was of Rhett. Before she fell asleep at night, the last thing to cross her mind was his handsome face. It had been that way since she was young. Spring bloomed across Atlanta in all its purple, green, and yellow hues, yet she couldn’t shake her malaise. How will I ever make it if my best friend doesn’t come back into my life? Why doesn’t he just text and let me know he’s okay?