“Papa, I think you should go and show the Señora,” Yuñior suggested.
“I think I should too,” he answered, waggling the newly trimmed eyebrows.
“Uhmm, Papa, do you want the full treatment that she will really appreciate?” Yuñior asked, and grinned at Tim.
“Full treatment?”
Yuñior closed the door. Eduardo could be heard swearing up a blue streak as Yuñior explained the appreciation Diadra had at the neat work around his male instrumentation. The conversation Eduardo had with Brody the Johnson a few months prior he repeated to Tim, stating no grown man needed to shave his nethers. Yuñior, explaining once more that it was not in fact a clearing of the field but a maintenance of the lawn, eventually he had to drop trousers to show off the neat work to his father.
Micah walked in at that exact moment, again asking, “What is going on here?”
“Come on, Micah, let me wash and trim your hair since you’ve shown up early,” Tim said, putting the young man in the chair, preparing to wash and give the tresses a rich, deep condition.
“I don’t have to drop my pants and show you my cock, do I?” Micah asked, looking at Yuñior with some concern. “I wouldn’t like that. I wouldn’t like that at all.”
“Chile, don’t nobody want to see your little chicken neck, get over here and let me get your hair finished,” Tim said, pushing the boy down in the seat and beginning the process.
Tonda, returned again, anxious, and seeing Eduardo looking ten years younger, wanted his turn in the chair. His aggressive stance frightened Tim, who tried to appear tough, but Yunior noticed the shaking of the stylists’ hands. He intervened.
“Tonda, Zeta will come for you when it is your appointment time. You will not scare my friend, so back up and back down,” Yunior said, moving to stand between the big man and Tim.
“I’m not going to hurt him. He passed out when he saw me, so I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t avoiding taking care of me because he was afraid. I want a new style,” Tonda barked. “I want to look sexy too!”
“Entiendo, but you can’t scare the shit out of the man by bulldozing your way in here!”
“I’m not trying to scare him! I simply wanted to reassure him that I am a gentle giant and would not harm a hair on his head,” Tonda growled, offering a smile. Only it wasn’t a smile, but a grimace of an ogre who had just ground men’s bones to make his bread.
“Damn, you look like Shrek trying to convince the Princess to leave his swamp,” Tim said, making Micah bust up laughing. “Let me get him finished, complete the detail work on the Czar, and eat some lunch. After lunch, you’re next, I think. I need to check with Zeta.”
“No after lunch, I’m flying you to Bogota,” Yuñior interjected.
“Flying?”
“Yep, helicopter, me, you, Zeta,” Yuñior said.
“Hold up! You can fly a helicopter?”
“Sí and a plane and pilot a yacht, a submarine, drive a tractor, and a barge,” Yuñior said nonchalantly.
Tim asked, “So you can do it all?”
“Pretty much. I learned it from my Papa.”
“Stop! Hold the hell up! You people have a fucking submarine?” Then he placed his hand over his mouth, realizing too late, once more, that he was sticking his hand inside of the cage and about to get bit.
Yuñior threw up his hand and walked away. His stomach was rumbling and he was missing Diadra. He wasn’t going to be a punk and call her again so soon, but he missed her terribly. A low growl escaped his throat at the thought of having to oversee Tim trimming his father’s pubes because the Czar would not be alone with the man, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to have Tonda stand guard while he was in such a compromising position.
It made him chuckle to think of the possibility of Tim waxing his father’s bum. He knew it would never happen, but the idea of it was funny as hell to him. A call came into his phone on Unit 8 which was rattling again. At this rate, he would need to replace the whole working system.
“One step at a time,” he said softly.
Chapter Ten- Cogency
He didn’t sleep well. The morning sun brought along with it a headache that wouldn’t ease off even after a hot shower and a good scrub. An afternoon of five and a half hours with Tim and Zeta was enough to make him want to slit his wrists the short way, allowing the blood to trench out slowly as the color drained from his face.
Yuńior walked backed over his thought process, going over everything that happened the afternoon before. The helicopter ride was an event he would never like to repeat as long as he lived. Zeta rode the entire trip with her eyes squinted shut. She even threw up in a small bag of Tim’s with her eyes closed tighter than a nun’s thighs. Tim, on the other hand, ignored it all, chattering all the way to Bogota, and Yuńior wanted to crash the helicopter and meet Jesus in person. He thought that would have been the worst of it, but unfortunately, that was simply the beginning of the shopping trip to Tropical Hell.
Tim hit the stores like the Tasmanian Devil on speed. It appeared as if Tim went into every store in Bogotá, pulling items off the shelf like a mad person who had just won the lottery and had thirty minutes to shop. After the first hour of the crazed shopping spree, Yuñior stopped watching the fashion diva work. He found himself a seat in the corner of each store, imagining as a husband, this would be the one thing he never did with his wife. At some point, he did begin to take notice of the items that Tim was purchasing, leaving nobody in the Czar’s family off the list.
Tim purchased shirts, slacks, and two pairs of shoes for his father, along with a watch and three bracelets. The Señora would receive a lovely necklace, two sweaters, a dress Tim called a date night dress, and a pair of kitten mules. Yuñior didn’t want to know what those were for, although in the middle of the night, he learned that Eddie was the play name she used for his father. Eduardo, as he also found out from his stepmother’s lusty echoes, was the mean bastard that she begged to take her with force until she came like a dusty freight train headed north in winter.
“Dear Lord, forgive me for all my sins,” Yuńior prayed silently, wishing he could unhear all of the noises echoing from his father’s suite.
He pulled the covers over his head, wishing he hadn’t heard any of that, and the new haircut and trimming of the bushes Eduardo must have shown off with pride. In nearly five years, he’d never heard them in the bedroom. A fresh haircut gave the old man new pep. Yuñior shuddered at the thoughts of the sounds, wishing he’d never heard any of it, especially the sound of the kitten heeled mules, which Tim brought back with them, hitting the wall as she kicked them off.
“I cannot get that sound out of my brain,” he mumbled as he washed his hair.
The shopping trip also included a couple of dresses for Isabella and Catrina and new hair bows. Tim bought strings of ribbon, and he planned to show Ryanne how to make bows for her little girls and save a ton of money.
Tim bought slacks and shirts for Micah and Angel, plus a pair of what he called kick ass boots for the youngest Delgado male, whom he claimed to adore. He purchased a shirt for Andres to show him how to conceal his tattoo, which Yuñior wasn’t sure his brother wanted to do.
For Marianna and Mara, his father’s and stepmother’s assistants, he purchased two dresses each. He also purchased a dress for Zeta’s mother and two pairs of shoes to support the lady’s feet and back while she cleaned the quarters of Andres and Yuñior’s wings, which would soon open. Zeta’s two brothers got fresh pairs of dungarees, solid, long sleeve cotton shirts for working on the land, and sturdy boots to work in the yard.
“Tim aren’t you going a bit overboard?” Yuñior asked.
“No, all of these people are your family,” he said. “Everyone in that household should and deserves to feel special.”
Yuñior didn’t argue as he watched him slow his frantic shopping pace when searching for items for Tonda. The large man wasn’t too big to fit normal cuts in bigger ranges, if chosen correctly.
Tim had taken his time measuring Tonda to ensure everything was recorded properly. Andres had shown up for the measuring and couldn’t wait to see Tim take the dimensions of the big man’s inseam. The snickering commenced as Tonda looked to the ceiling as Tim got close to his life sacks.
“Big Man, do you dress left or right?” Tim asked.
Growling, Tonda asked, “What do you mean?”
“Which way does that thang hang?”
Tonda gulped, fisted his hands into large meat tenderizers, and growled at Tim. Shocked by the change in the big man’s demeanor, Tim fell over like a fainting goat, making Yuñior sigh in defeat.
This made Andres topple over in the chair laughing. Tonda, furious, lifted him with one hand, throwing Andres over his shoulder and carrying the laughing man to his father’s office and plopping him in a chair.
“Stay!” Tonda snarled, returning to Tim’s modified dais for the measuring to be completed. “Left. I wear it on the left.”
“Okay, so what I want to do for you, Señor Tonda, is to wait until the items I’m going to purchase arrive, then do the special shave and haircut all at once,” Tim said.
It was fine with Tonda, who was genuinely smiling. That too made Yuñior’s head hurt. Today was going to be extremely long as he stepped out of the shower, reluctant to start the day’s activities. There was much to do and much to get done, starting with the finicky machine in Unit 8.
He dressed, noticing that Isabella had not come into his room this morning. He assumed she was following Tim, but the moment he opened his bedroom door, the air felt different. Slipping back into his room, he grabbed weapons, loading his pants with stars, blades, and a small caliber handgun.
His mind wandered to Diadra as he walked down the steps. If they were under attack, and he had to fight to the death, he would want her to know he’d loved her the best way he knew how. Then he thought of Tito.
“That mutherfucker,” Yuñior griped. His thoughts went to the mind-numbing afternoon that he had to spend in the office since the antibiotic he was taking to heal the gunshot wound didn’t allow any prolonged time in the sun. Maybe this afternoon he would sit and think of ways to fuck up Tito’s shit. The snakes were too predictable. Maybe he would send in a nasty woman with a disease to love him to death. “Lick that, mutherfucker.”
The sound of Diadra’s voice echoed in his head. He remembered the conversation she had before her departure, urging him to get along with Tito versus tormenting the sour soul sap sucker. Her voice sounded so clear, and almost life like as if she were in the next room. His family was all there and everyone seemed to be talking at the same time as he rounded the corner. Then, the talking all stopped.
“Morning, Ed,” Diadra said, “I made you breakfast and coffee.”
He hadn’t moved, looking around the kitchen to see if the colors were off and he were in fact dreaming, but the coffee cup was hot in his hand and her lips were real as she kissed his cheek.
“Diadra,” he said, coming around the table and taking a seat. His eyes went to his father, who was in a really good mood this morning. The Señora was making googly eyes at Eduardo, and the sounds from the night before reverberated in Yuñior’s brain again, of the Czar claiming his woman in their role-playing game, and it made Yuñior shudder. He turned in the seat again, looking over his shoulder at Diadra’s bottom, ensuring that it was in fact her. She was here. At Las Tierras. A plate of food materialized in front of him, and she took a seat at the table. Disbelief made him reach over and pinch her arm.
“Ouch,” she said, swatting at him and looking up as Andres entered the room from the back door followed by a dark-haired young woman. “Morning, Andres. You must be Zeta.”
“I am,” Zeta answered, looking to Yuñior.
“Zeta, this is Diadra,” Yuñior said, saying no more.
“Are you also a friend here to help me transition into my role as his assistant?” Zeta inquired.
“I’m here to help the Señor handle anything he needs,” she said, giving a smile to Yuñior.
His facial expression didn’t change or alter as he sipped his coffee, which impressed his father. Andres wasn’t as amused. He pretty much said so.
“Hey fruit licker, your fruit arrived, and you’re just sitting here drinking coffee,” he said, looking at Diadra. “See Didi, I’ve decided that’s my new name for you. You see, Didi, the difference between me and my brother is he wants to set a good impression and be all gentlemanly and stuff. If you were my woman, I wouldn’t care about breakfast or coffee. Me and you, we would be outta here, and these guys wouldn’t see me again until we needed food, water, or to swim off the sticky.”
“Could you be any crasser, Andres?” Yuñior asked.
“A beautiful, talented woman like this flies all the way from New York to come take care of me, I would be showing her more appreciation than just eating some damn eggs and rice,” Andres said.
“Do you want another brother?” Yuñior asked Diadra, noticing the golden flecks in her eyes. She shook her head no. Yuñior reached across the table, collecting her hand into his own. “Diadra, what my brother has yet to learn is that when you love a woman, truly love her, the relationship evolves and no longer becomes about what he thinks it is. To love a woman is to appreciate all the small things, revel in the larger efforts and celebrate the seconds of looking deep in her eyes and reassuring the lady that your heart beats only for her.”
Zeta, Ryanne, and Tim, who had entered the room, sighed along with Diadra. She leaned forward, kissing him on the mouth, allowing their lips to linger. Andres wasn’t impressed. He once more added his two pesos.
“Nope, she woulda got poked the moment I saw her,” Andres said. “Me. Hey, baby. How you doing? Poke. I missed you too, sweetheart. Poke. Oh you’re hungry, here’s some eggs. Poke.”
“You are truly a nasty little man,” Tim said. “I like you, though, because you’re honest. Nasty, but honest.”
“There is nothing little about me, Tim,” Andres said with his tongue stuck in his cheek.
Tim’s attention went to Diadra. “When do I get to style this gorgeous beauty, Ed?”
“Diadra the Parsons, this is my stylist, Tim the Johnson,” Yuñior said, rising and pulling Diadra to her feet.
“Oh, Tim, I can see the resemblance between you and Brody...or do you call him Mr. Yield too?” she asked.
“You know my cousin Brody?”
“Yes, we’ve had an interaction,” Diadra replied. “Cousins you say. Mothers or fathers?”
Eduardo was scowling. “Wait, you and the man with the scar are cousins. What happened there?”
“Our mothers are sisters. Brody’s father was a man of the cloth,” Tim said, taking a seat at the table. “He prayed over me day in and day out, but this is who I’ve always been.”
Andres also was scowling. “You and the tough guy with the one eye and the scar over his face are related? I can’t see that at all.”
“We grew up together as brothers and still interact as brothers. Yuñior, when you helped him put in the hot water heater at my house, you saw that he’s just my best friend, and he’s cool with me being me. He won’t go anywhere with me if I wear the pink boots, though,” Tim said.
“Those are a bit much,” Ryanne added.
Andres wouldn’t let it go. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around that dude being your cousin. See Tonda over there, he’s our cousin, well, theirs too. Mara is our cousin. Marianna is our cousin. That dude is related to you?”
“I’m tougher than I seem,” Tim said.
“Uhmm, Mr. Squeal and pass out in the floor like a dead cucaracha. Let’s see how tough you’re going to be sitting astride a horse,” Andres said, turning up his lip. “Hurry up and eat, please. We need to get this riding lesson going before it gets too hot and the tough guy that you are wilts in the sun.”
Yuñior shielded his laughter, looking at Diadra. “I too must work this morning, but I should be done by noon. Would you care to rest fr
om the overnight flight?”
“You’re not going to ask how long I’m staying?”
“You’re here, that’s all that matters, whether for an afternoon or three days, I accept,” he said, touching the side of her face.
Diadra blushed under his gaze, lowering her eyes to the table.
“I brought work to do for the rest of the week. If you want me to show Zeta how to integrate her phone with your electronic calendar in Google or Outlook, I can get that set up for her,” Diadra said. “I will only show her how to sync it up and not get your passwords or dig around in your schedule.”
“I’m not worried about that kind of thing although I do appreciate the thoughtfulness in caring for my privacy,” Yuñior said, squinting at her. “You’re constantly surprising me and you have yet to ask about Irena.”
“Is she here too?”
He laughed. “No, she is not.”
“And I am, so there is that, which means I have no questions,” Diadra said softly.
“Damn, I like her,” Tim added.
Andres leaned forward to his brother’s ear, “Poke. Why are you trying to go to work? Your day should be spent making hot sweet love to this woman.”
Yuñior was still looking at Diadra when he spoke to his brother. “Andres, I need a word alone before you take Tim for his riding lesson.”
“Oh great, you have to work, so now we all have to work! Can I just take the poof out for a horseback ride?”
Tim turned around, “Why does he keep calling me a poof? What is that?”
“You don’t want to know, which is why he’s going to stop saying it,” Yuñior said, getting to his feet. “Diadra, I shall return by noon. I’ll shower and change for us to share a mid-day meal, talk, and make plans for the evening.”
“Okay, Ed,” she answered, sitting there watching him walk away, his shoulders stiff and his back rigid. He moved like an apex predator with focus and determination. “Ooh, I love me some him.”
Becoming the Czar Page 11