Chapter 18 #2
I didn’t know what I really wanted. I just knew I wanted to get out of the room and thought that since it was the weekend, he’d let me join him when he left today.
The mounds of green in front of him were something I had never seen before.
My first time holding American money was when he gave me the rolls of cash before walking into the engagement party.
I hadn't even known how to count it and needed some help when I made a small purchase that night.
I knew pesos, but the American dollar was strange to me.
It was the color of lush trees and fresh turf, and each bill shared the same hue, but the faces were different.
Using his thumb to flick his nose, he pushed away from his desk. “Solana, ven aquí (come here)”, he stated instead of asking.
My bare feet moved on their own accord and didn’t stop until I was standing behind his desk, next to the black leather chair he was sitting in.
Holding his hand out for me to place mine in his, I concentrated on trying to steady my breathing from us touching.
I could feel my nipples poking through my dress, and if he’d noticed them, I wouldn't know because he hadn’t taken his eyes off my face.
Shio tugged me to his side, and I got the shock of my life when he lowered me into his lap.
My entire body was rigid. I was as still as a maniquí (mannequin) as I sat on his muscular thigh.
This was not a respectful action, and my thoughts matched the ambiance.
I did not want to be the reason for Glow to lose her happiness.
I needed to find the courage to ask Shio if she and he were a thing.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, breaking me from the many inner questions I had.
Pushing my thoughts aside, I melted as a delicious shudder heated my body as his sultry voice spoke directly into my ear. I couldn’t clench my legs closed to relieve the pressure because then, he'd feel it. He’d know that he had me wired up with just one sentence.
“Done… what?” I asked through bated breath. I needed clarity so that I could answer his question as truthfully as possible.
Leaning in, his solid chest pushed against my back.
Our fragrances blended like the chords of a musical masterpiece composed by Manuel de Sumaya himself.
A delightful shiver of wanting ran through me as I felt his steady heartbeat through my back.
I allowed the abundance of saliva to slowly descend my throat as I waited for what was next.
Shio and I had never been this close, not since the first night when he put the gun to my head, and just like that night, I was intrigued and frightened but not scared enough to get up off his fucking lap.
“I gave you some bread without realizing you probably don’t know how to count money. Have you done it before?”
Oh, that was what he was talking about: dólares americanos American dollars).
Inspecting the neat stacks of money assembled in front of us, trying to get my mind off anything other than the closeness of our bodies, I looked from pile to pile and shook my head. “No.”
“Aite…”
He scooted the chair closer to the desk so that my abdomen was lightly pressing against it.
I was sandwiched between him and the wood, and hanging by a thread internally.
Reaching around me, he picked up a stack of money.
He must have visited his barber sometime this morning; I could smell the fumes that only a barbershop holds, whether it be Mexican or American.
I had six brothers and a father. That was very much part of my upbringingI knew it all too well.
Using only one hand, he spread the green bills across the wood so that I had a clear view of each piece of green paper.
“This…” He placed his index finger on the desk just below the first bill. “This is a dollar. It equals one.” He reached for a few more of the same paper that displayed an ugly man in a white wig and spread them just below the original one. “How many dollars are right here?”
Pausing, I tapped into the American vocabulary side of my brain. “Cinco… I mean, five.”
“Yeah. This is five dollars.” He slid his finger over to the next bill that had the number five etched in the corner. “Five one-dollar bills are the same as one five-dollar bill.” He placed another five-dollar bill below that one. “How much is this?”
“Um… Ten?”
“Yeah. This is ten dollars, which is the same as this bill.”
He went on with his lesson until we reached the one-hundred-dollar bill, and I was able to understand how to add and subtract the money. It wasn’t as simple as pesos, but I got the concept.
“Each one of these bills features a picture of a dead president. I’m not going to run through who these muthafuckas are because that shit ain’t important.
All you really need to know is how to count it and who this one is.
” He pointed to the hundred-dollar bill, which was more of a blueish color but looked green when I first entered the office.
“Ever heard the phrase ‘all about the benjamins?’”
I nodded.
“They talkin’ about this nigga right here. A blue face. C-note. Hundred-dollar bill.”
Nodding, my body still not cooling down. I made him explain a few things more than once because my mind had wandered to the gutter every thirty seconds. Feeling confident to take a pop quiz if given one, I said, “I understand now.”
“Aite. Now grab one of those stacks of hunnids in the corner over there.”
“Hunnids?”
“My bad, hundreds, baby. Hunnids is just some lingo type shit.”
Baby.
I knew he’d used it as a term of endearment and that he didn’t actually see me as his baby, but that didn’t stop the hairs on the back of my neck from spiking.
At the end of his desk, I saw a tall stack of blue benjamin’s that was bundled in rubber bands next to the worn leather book.
I lifted off his lap, because that was the only way I could reach it, and found myself with my ass in his face.
I expected him to lean back, but he stayed in place, and all I could think about was how happy I was to have showered before switching to his side of the house.
With as many hunnids as I could hold, I took my seat back in Shio’s lap.
Bringing his face back to mine, Shio licked his lips, and I practically moaned. “This a money counter… Remove the rubber band and place the money on the tray right there.”
Shio was instructing me on what to do, but he was also taking my hands in his and guiding my fingers. I was almost scared to get up because I knew I’d ruined the back of my dress. This American Boy wasn’t doing anything but giving me a counting lesson, and I was turned on to the máxima (maximum).
Brushing his calloused hands against mine, he used my hands to place the money on the tray.
The bills held a manufactured scent of fresh ink and clean cotton fibers.
There was also a metallic scent that I caught a whiff of.
Just like pesos, I’d not only been turned on by the man but also by being surrounded by so much money.
I used cards back home because Papa didn’t trust me with physical bills.
The money went inside the top portion of the machine and was spit out of the lower half with a beep. “That’s twenty bands right there. A band is a…”
I perked up, and the slight movement caused me to brush against his manhood. My cheeks warmed, but I quickly said, “A thousand dolares (dollars).”
“Entonces, ?cuánto dinero es? (So, this how much money?)”
“Veinte mil (Twenty thousand).” I was shocked I’d answered because I felt myself making a mess in the Skim’s thong.
Shio reached around me, rubber-banded the money, and set it aside.
When he leaned back in the chair, I caught on to his silent instruction.
Grabbing another pile of money, I did as he’d shown me and waited for the machine to beep.
I banded the money, equaling another twenty thousand dollars.
I never knew counting money could be so sensual, but it was, and I was having the time of my life besides my body being on fire.
Thirty piles of money later, my phone began to vibrate on the desk.
Seeing my father’s name flash at the top of the screen snapped me out of my money-counting delusion and back into reality.
I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was calling me.
I knew what time of the month it was, and just like a woman’s menstrual cycle, my father was on time.
Instead of answering, I left it to ring until my voicemail cued.
Grabbing another stack of money, I kept the routine going as Shio remained silent, watching me.
The voicemail icon lit up on the screen of my phone, and just when I was about to grab another pile of money, two text message notifications popped up.
Shio squeezed my hip, and I froze momentarily. His grip felt right as if I was meant to be in his grasp. “That’s enough for today, Solana. Get your phone.”
I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to grab my phone.
I didn’t want to see what he had texted me because I already knew what it was.
I didn’t comprehend why he felt the need to remind me of the recurring procedure.
The only thing I was surprised about was that he kept the shenanigans up even though I was thousands of miles away.
I loved my father with all my heart, but it was shit like this that made it hard for me to respect him.
I may have shown the proper regard outwardly, but my feelings were often indifferent toward my papa.