Two Can Play (7 page)

“
Great stuff. And lastly, get Ed to send me some ideas about her styling, will you? Tell him it's his call, but she's too young for skimpy leather shorts and whatever. It's gotta be suitable dress code, okay?” I'm gonna let the head of my marketing team run with some ideas he has for her. He's into trends and has his finger on the pulse with image. Ed and his five-girl promo team are the icing on the AAG cake as far as I'm concerned. They've got a boatload of contacts in the business and get our signings noticed, in all the right places and so damn fast, it's not funny.

“
Yep, will do. He was talking to me about this earlier. So he's already on it. You'll get his proposals pretty soon. I'll make sure you do.”

Karen has to rush off to the meeting. Hastily, she says goodbye, telling me she'll get back to me. Everything seems to run itself so well when I'm not in the office, I don't think they even notice I'm gone. All I have to do is answer a few emails here and there, give the final go ahead on their ideas.

I'm not sure if it's all down to my efficient management and delegation skills, or whether I don't actually do a lot when I'm there anyway. I might be doing myself down, but it's probably more the latter.

I send Kate a text. Just a quick thank you, starting off the lines of communication.

A moment later my cell rings. It's Signor Bassi, the lawyer. We greet each other cordially.

“
So, Signor Garcia... The reason for my call... It is, how shall I say, and very sadly I'm afraid, a warning. I have just spoken to your mother. She told me yesterday, after you had left, that she was intending to contest the will, as she feels you have been overly compensated for your unofficial business relationship with your father. I advised her against it and to think it over. But again, she has called me on this matter....”

My heart drops and my stomach churns with the news. Not that I didn't expect this to happen, but there was always hope.

“...I have told the Signora, in my opinion, it is unlikely she will gain any further benefit from this action. Based on the written statement in the will, that you were the only child to actively participate in Signor Garcia's business dealings, and that he was a sleeping partner in your recording studio. I have suggested she takes independent counsel, from a third party. I feel she will, and also I feel she will contest the will anyway, regardless of what anyone says, just to drag it all out and cause you inconvenience. I sense a deep resentment from her as far as you are concerned. And I hope you don't mind me saying this, but from my brief observation, it appears that your mother is a vindictive and spiteful woman. I would employ your own lawyer to safeguard your inheritance. The best money can buy. Who knows what she may come up with?”

“
I see...well, I kinda expected this. She's always had it in for me. Why change the habits of a lifetime? She locked me out of the house yesterday.”

“
Ah yes, and that is her prerogative, as she is the joint owner with the three Signorinas...it was your father's private home. Part of the personal fortune. The title deeds have already been transferred on that part of the estate. She has the title and rights of ownership.”

“
I guessed this would all be the case. And I'll find myself a lawyer, as you suggest.”

“
And one other thing, Signor. I cannot put this any other way. Take care. From my experience, women can be evil in these matters. Far worse than men, I assure you.”

“
Right...well thanks for the frank advice. It makes a refreshing change to find a lawyer with a heart. It's appreciated, Signor.”

We say our goodbyes and I flop on the bed face down with a groan.

Fuck my life... What the hell have I ever done to her? Nothing. Except being born. What kind of mother persecutes her own child for being male? How is that my fault?

A half an hour later I get back to Karen.

“
I could be here longer than I thought. Make it a three-month let, with an option to extend.”

“
You are coming back to New York as planned though, aren't you?” she asks with a note of concern to her voice.

“
Yes, I'll be back in a week probably, but I need a longer term base here. You know I can't stand staying in hotels.”

“
Okay, I'll get on to it later today, I promise. We've got Kai Jackson coming in to record in a minute, so I'm standing guard. All the girls are undressed to the tens, miniskirts and cleavage everywhere I look. It's obscene.”

“
I hope
you're
behaving yourself.” I snigger with amusement.

“
At forty-six I'm way past ogling Justin Bieber types, honey. Besides, who wants Kai, when I have you? Hurry up and come home. I miss my daily dose of eye candy.”

“
Karen, you say the loveliest things. You're the only woman in my life, you know.”

“
So you keep telling me. I'm the mother you never had.”

“
Talking of mothers, mine’s contesting the will.”

“
What a surprise. She's a real bitch, that woman.”

“
My sentiments exactly.”

“
Don't let her get you down, Aaron. D'you want me to fix you up with a US lawyer?”

“
That'd be a great help, sweetheart. No expense spared, okay?”

“
Don't you worry. I'm gonna find the best mother-fucking lawyer money can buy, if you pardon the expression. Oh shit, no.... I'm too late already....” She pauses and I can hear squeals in the background. “I'd better go. Kai's arrived and he's being smothered with acres of breasts and choked to death with perfume.”

She clicks off and leaves me chuckling to myself. If only my real mother was like her. I have a great relationship with Karen. She's funny, naughty, witty, helpful and understanding, and not that bad looking for an “old lady” either.

Maybe I should ask her to adopt me.

HER

I leave the cafe soon after my wine is finished and make my way home. Marco's picking me up at six. I have a few hours free and potter about in the apartment, checking for stray cobwebs and making sure it all looks just so for my new guest.

I'm looking forward to it now that I'm over the shock of my surprise invitation.

I realize, after thinking rationally for a while, that my worries are unfounded. Most men are not stalkers and rapists. Aaron is an average guy. A pretty hot average guy, but I'm sure he's safe to live with, short term.

In fact, I'm not only looking forward to it all, I'm in seventh heaven.

I suddenly have two hot men at my beck and call. Things are really looking up.

I check his room. It's a little too girly, pale and cream.

I look in the closet...choose a bright blue cushion for the bed.

Talk about stereotyping...

I might as well go all out “boy.” I add another.

I find a navy blue throw on the shelf in the closet, and spread it over the cream duvet.

I take the Monet Water Lilies print off the wall and swap it for a portrait of me from my room.

It's a large framed monochrome photograph of my graduation.

Now I'll be the first thing he sees in the morning when he wakes up.

I snigger at my stupid sense of humor.

Removing the blue china cat from the window ledge, I replace it with a large ornamental piece of gray and white quartz that's been used as a doorstopper.

Much more manly than a blue china cat...guys like rocks and stuff.

Now we're getting somewhere. In fact, we're completely done. All manned up.

I check the other bathroom for cleanliness and it seems in order. No stray hairs in the sink or shower. The floor and everything else is spotless. Lucia does an awesome job cleaning this place. I'll make sure I give her an extra large gratuity when I go.

Cream towels, hand soap, shower gel in place. Lily of the valley will have to do. It's the best I can manage.

I return to my living room happy with my masculine tweaking efforts.

I check my cell.

A text from Mom, a few from friends, and one from an unknown.

I read the unknown first.

You're a girl in a million, Kate. I'm your new best friend. Cheers! Aaron x

Awww, kinda sweet...

I smile. I won't reply to that. No need. I put him in my contacts.

I go for Mom next.

OMG Harry's perfect. You have to meet him. He's THE ONE.

Me
:
Pleased to hear it. Keep up the good work Mom. Love to meet THE ONE when I'm back
.

I'm really happy for her. I hope “the one” hangs around for a while.

Chris text number one...

In bed, sober, tucked up. Nite nite K - TY!

Good-o...

And number two...

Ricky’s texting me every minute. I think he’s worried and really sorry. I’m turning cell off now. Letting him steeeewwww all night  tee he
e-
LOL - TY again.

Me
:
Sort him out girl. And FGS don’t go places he hangs with the guys - All men can be DHs with their pals. They're genetically wired like that.

I check the last one. It's a birthday party invite from Sienna. I'll have to think of a birthday present for her.
I know she loves shoes. Perhaps I'll take her out shoe shopping. I'm extremely generous with my friends in lots of ways. Gifts. Holidays. Meals out. Shopping days. Life's expensive and I do my bit to help with luxuries and fun.

It's hard to know when to stop sometimes. I don't want to embarrass them or cause issues.

Although I keep them at a slight distance, which I can't help, due to my nature, I love them dearly, and just can't stop myself spending money on them. I don't have anyone else to spend it on. My parents have everything money could buy.

There's a couple of charities I'm the patron of, though: a child hospice and a refuge for the homeless, both in L.A. These two tug at my heartstrings whenever I go there.

No...it's not just a tug...it's serious emotion.

I challenge anyone not to be overwhelmed at the plight of tiny children who have a terminal disease. Their parents trying so hard to keep brave for them, holding everything together while dealing with the agony of their child’s sickness. It's heartbreaking.

And it's so sad to see so many people who have lost their roof over their heads for one reason or another. I like to help out there too when I can. 

My eyes feel heavy...I have an overwhelming need to shut them.

I can feel myself falling asleep...it's the wine...I shouldn't drink in the middle of the day. It knocks me out.

I'm awakened by a buzzing noise. It's the main door buzzer.

Mio Marco I presume.

I stretch and get up, heading out of my door, down the stairs, yawning and wobbly on my legs, holding onto the stair rail for support.

I open the door and there he is, all white smile and exceptional good looks, dark blue jeans, and a snowy white T—my very own Latino love god.