25. Mr Marquesi Senior is my spirit animal
TWENTY-FIVE
MR MARQUESI SENIOR IS MY SPIRIT ANIMAL
I s this what it means to be giddy?
There’s lightness in my step and an urgency to my movements as I walk back to my house. I’m eager to get into bed and call Vanessa. I know it’s supposed to be for a serious topic, but knowing I get to hear her voice before falling into a restless sleep makes the night seem not so terrifying.
“Did you have a nice chat?” my dad asks, taunting me, the emphasis on the word chat speaks volumes about how he thinks my time with Vanessa went. Not that he is wrong, but I’m not ready to admit it to anyone. Even if his smile tells me he’d be happy for me.
Me, on the other hand? I don’t even know what I feel but I’m gonna chase it for as long as I can. For the first time in years, I don’t want to not wake up in the morning. Not that I ever want to die, I just don’t want to live.
“Fine,” I reply.
“Oh, that’s how you call it nowadays? Okay.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Babbu . She’s my employee,” I say, unconvincingly.
“Never stopped anyone before,” he scoffs. “Anyway, I’ll take my leave. The children didn’t stir.”
“Thank you, Babbu .”
We embrace as a goodbye but he holds onto me longer than our usual one second half hug.
“You deserve to be happy, figliolu ,” he says.
If I knew how to cry, maybe tears would rise to the surface, but his words have the opposite effect of making me emotional and gooey inside. They remind me that, no matter how much happiness I feel, the black void in my head can destroy it all without warning.
Now, all I want to do is brace for it happening. And I should. It’s safer. The crash of intense emotions will be harder and I need to remain constant for my children, even if it’s constant in misery.
My father leaves and I climb the stairs. I kiss my children’s heads, pride swelling inside me. They remind me I’m not a complete failure, even if it seems like it most days.
Then I remove my clothes and forego the pyjama pants before I dial the woman that haunts my every breath, using wireless earphones so I can see her face on the screen without disturbing the children.
She answers the call on the first ring. Fuck , she’s so pretty still flushed from earlier. “Fancy receiving a call from my boss this fine evening,” she sing-songs. “What can I do for you, Mr Marquesi?” I groan and she chimes, her voice the epitome of sunshine, “What? Too soon?”
Her giggles lift the clouds again and I let myself enjoy this simple joy of having a woman laugh with me rather than laugh at me. My cheeks hurt from having not been used for so long as they get reacquainted with my smile.
“Yes, zitella , too soon.”
Her laugh dies slowly, but there’s no heaviness when she asks, “Did you want to talk about us?”
“Yes, Vanessa. I haven’t been with a woman since my ex-wife left and it was very hard on Anton and Livia. I can’t afford to get swept away in a romance that will only last a summer, especially since you are already so close to them. But every time I get closer to you, it makes the world a little brighter. I just can’t keep getting lost in you while you also work for me. It’s confusing for the kids, for me. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you and I hate it.”
“Oh,” she says. I know disappointment when I hear it and I know it might not be fair, but my priority is to my children. “I understand. They should feel safe and I don’t want to confuse them. I love them so much already.”
“You’re not their mother,” I bark and regret it immediately.
Vanessa, gracious as she is, doesn’t yell at me for snapping. I’m met with more understanding and kindness than I deserve and I shift on my bed, uncomfortable with all these new emotions.
“Lino, I know I’m not their mother. I would never try to fill up her shoes, even if you and I grow into something more.”
The hope blooming in my chest is a beast with its own mind. It doesn’t matter that my rational brain is at the head of this ship, it keeps making it sway.
“I need time, zitella . I don’t know how to deal with this…” I don’t finish my sentence because I don’t have the word for what we are.
She sighs heavily. “There are things you need to know about me, about what I want in life. I can’t afford to lose this job, Lino. I’m attracted to you and trust me, I know what being taken advantage of is like.” I don’t like the sound of that one bit. “You’re not doing that. But my needs have to come first.”
My nostrils flare at the hurt and pain her words hint at. I want to know who hurt her and how I can protect her from harm.
How a young woman is already so sure of herself and ready to demand what she deserves is so beautiful to witness. I feel privileged she’d give me a front row seat. But also an asshole for wanting everything she could ever give.
“Can I ask you why you need this job? It’s not like I’m paying you so well, or that I’m the easiest person to work with.”
“No, but your kids are.” I can hear her smile. My shoulders lower with relief and I wish I was there to see her face and bask in her light. “I don’t want to bother you with my situation, Lino. But I want more for myself, and my dreams… They cost money. I’m gonna put myself through school and become a chiropractor.”
“How much?” It might sound like an innocent question, but my solution-driven mind which hasn’t felt emotions for years, is already plotting how it can help her.
“It’s five years in university and I would probably need a year before that to catch up and be on the correct level. I found a night class I can take online, so that’s great.”
“How much, zitella ?” I ask again.
“The night class tuition is a thousand euros per semester.”
I put Vanessa on speaker and wire-transfer what she would need for the year’s tuition plus extra. She shouldn’t have to worry about a thing. I’m overstepping, but I’m too far gone. I want her to have whatever she desires, even if it’s not me.
“What did you do?” she asks with alarm.
“I’m taking care of it.”
“Lino,” she sighs. “I don’t want a handout. I can take care of myself. I’ve never needed anyone, I’m not gonna start now.”
I can hear the anger rising in her tone. It’s what I was afraid of when I spoke to Pierce about her, but he said to be a partner. I want to be her partner. The desire to provide for her and help her is fed by the desire to see her thrive. She’s independent and strong-minded, but how long has she had this dream and couldn’t afford it?
“What if I told you that you don’t have to do it by yourself?”
“Lino, you don’t want confusion, but then you give me money for my studies. This is even more confusing.” Her voice pitches high and I wince.
I’m doing this all wrong. This is the first time in my life when I have no clue what to do. With Monica, it was simple. We met. I liked her enough, and she reciprocated. Our marriage gave my unborn child the family I had growing up. I battled the darkness alone. Went to work. On repeat forever.
Now, sunshine has entered my life for the first time and Vanessa makes everything easier, the steps lighter, the battle less bloody. And I can’t tell her. The words stay stuck in my throat.
“Please, zitella . Just let me take care of this. Let me help you,” I plead. “And I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but would you give me a few weeks? Just enough time to understand what I’m feeling.”
“You don’t know?” Her question is genuine and lacks the sarcasm my ex-wife would have infused into her every word.
“No. I haven’t felt for a long time.”
“Okay,” she concedes.
The simplicity of her answer betrays her youth, but it makes me want to do right by her.
“Okay,” I say, then pause. “I want you. I want you so bad I can’t control myself when I’m with you.”
“And you thrive on control, I know,” she replies.
My lips tilt up unbidden. That she already knows me and how I work—and isn’t turned off by it—is such a turn on for me. And a relief. I don’t have to hide who I truly am. I don’t have to pretend to smile, though with her, I find myself using these atrophied muscles more and more.
“I certainly do, zitella .” My voice drops low with a promise of pleasure.
“I’m not complaining, Daddy.” I can hear her smile through the phone. The sound that comes out of my chest is a primal growl. Every time the word comes out of her plush lips, I’d fall to my knees for her. I already did. And I do hope to make a repeat.
“Then turn on the camera and show me how little you’re complaining about the way I command your body,” I order. My heart pumps faster with trepidation, my eyes growing wide as the video appears on screen. Vanessa is still in her little shorts and cami, kneeling on the bed as she props the phone on what I assume is the dresser.
Her serene smile puts me at ease. I let my hand travel to my groin and take hold of my hardening cock. My baby girl doesn’t miss the movement and bites her lip. I track every single one of her reactions like a man starved and groan as I glide my hand along my length. Her taste lingers on my tongue, the image of her legs spread open for me has me ready to blow. But it’s not that image that will be my ruin. I don’t need to resort to that when I have her on the other side of the screen, gliding her hands all over her body. I’ve barely touched myself yet but I’m desperate to come. I need it as much as I need her.
“Let me see you, Daddy,” she rasps.
I feel like a teenager again, doing something I’m not supposed to, but the forbidden aspect of our situation makes my blood surge. I’m not going to last. I angle the phone so she can see me stroke myself and she moans. Thank God for wireless earbuds.
She pinches her nipples and her breath hitches. The suggestive shadows of the tight peaks under the cami create the most erotic picture. I fist myself harder, pumping into my hand with more frantic strokes.
“Don’t remove your shorts, zitella . Slide the fabric to the side like I did tonight. When I see you fully naked for the first time, I want to be right there with you.”
She whimpers but obeys, her hand already down to her pussy where she caresses her clit with a figure eight motion. I file the knowledge into a neat pile named after her in my brain.
“But you’re naked,” she whines.
“And you love it,” I chastise, breath shallow. “It makes me hard to know what I do to you, zitella .”
Her nickname falls from my lips over and over like that’s the only thing that makes sense. While I hold the phone and my arm starts to strain, nothing else matters but the sensation of little ants crawling from my shoulder to my hand and the sparks of pleasure from where I stroke my cock. I take my time, riveted to the sight of Vanessa throwing her head back in ecstasy.
“Daddy, I’m gonna come!”
“You’re doing such a good job for me, zitella . Make yourself come for Daddy. And be loud.”
I pant as I pick up my pace, arms trembling.
“I wanna see you come, Daddy!” Vanessa pleads.
It’s my turn to obey.
With gritted teeth to muffle my groan, I come in thick ropes over my hand and abs.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Vanessa moans as she comes as well, her body raked with shivers and spasms. Her eyes remained on the screen of her phone. On me and my cock. On my pleasure. The power is heady and makes my head swim.
I’ve jerked off thousands of times and nothing has ever compared to this moment, with my employee looking at me like she’d swallow me given the chance. When was the last time anyone looked at me like I was their sun? Never, is the answer.
Darkness and emptiness aren’t even in the room with me, waiting in the corners to take their place back on my shoulders. They’re just absent. For the first time in years. All thanks to the little ray of summer in my perpetual winter.
“Let me wash my hands. Don’t hang up!” Vanessa laughs and disappears from view. I do the same and get back into bed, phone in hand, waiting for her to reappear on my screen. I’m eager to wish her goodnight. And eager to see her tomorrow.
“Hey,” she says as she settles in.
“Hey.”
“That was… so hot.” She laughs again, the sound becoming one of my top three sounds in the world with the laughter of my children.
“It was.”
I’m not in a hurry to end the call, but it’s past midnight and sleep is slowly creeping in. I yawn and Vanessa does too.
“It’s time for bed, zitella . I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell her. There’s more for us to figure out, but we’ll take it one day at a time.
“Good night, Daddy.”
“Good night, baby.”
I hang up with the biggest smile on my face, ready to open the festering wounds of my heart to her. Her sunshine will heal them.