Saint
The dossier I’d requested on Victoria came back to me via encrypted email while we were still in the air. That was when my plan of action began to form. Eight months to a year was my mentally proposed length of time we could pretend to be lovers. It would ensure ample time for Javier’s murder to blow over. I’d expected her reluctance. Anyone with good sense would be hesitant about marrying a man they’d only just met, much less witnessed commit a murder. She was well within her rights to request time to consider it.
But women like Victoria weren’t accustomed to lacking motion. They were all about carpe diem, seizing the day, and in order to do that, they needed to move unreservedly. Soon, she’d want her freedom to do that. Freeing her from my sight unprotected paralleled uncouth behavior. My concern for her was unrelenting and confusing.
Once my father caught wind of me and Supreme’s predicament on Komodo Island – thanks to Supreme’s snitching ass – I received endless threats about “handling it,” meaning handling her, meaning killing Victoria. That option was lost on me the moment I laid eyes on her. The only handling I could see myself doing with her included nudity and the inches of my dick.
Freeing myself from those thoughts, I stared blankly at the dossier. If I didn’t handle it, someone else would be hired out to do so. Victoria was a loose end at a time when such slip-ups could put me and everyone I cared for in jail.
Marriage was reserved for love or political gain if you were in a particular position. This marriage would be neither. This was all self-preservation.
Love evaded me my entire existence. As such, I never expected to be placed in a husband position. I knew what loving someone felt like. I loved my family. They showed me compassion and tenderness despite the world telling me I was undeserving of it. I knew what lust felt like. I’d had my share of willing women. I knew what craving the feel, the scent, and the sound of a woman between the sheets felt like… but being in love? That fluttery shit that made people lose all sense? That invisible sphere two souls created that made them daft to reason outside of themselves? That pervasive desire to grow and share space with another person? I’d never had the fortune to experience that.
But there was something there with this woman. Something about Victoria Jacob sparked something in me, enough for me to throw caution to the ethers and put my family at risk at a time when they were transitioning away from crime.
And now I was asking her to do the same. Throw caution out of the window. It seemed like a fair trade. Protection for protection seemed like a damned good mutually beneficial arrangement. Maybe she needed more convincing.
Packing away the food, I cleared the dining table, setting it back to the pristine way I’d met it. Once assured everything was in perfect order, I then jogged upstairs to the bedroom, where I knew I’d find the beauty that left me void of sense. With my hand gripping the knob to her room, I almost barraged through the door without knocking. The knob was halfway turned before I realized my mistake. That wasn’t appropriate behavior. Internally, I scolded myself for the slip-up. Freeing the knob, I raised my hand to knock, but the door flew open before I could make contact with it.
“Hey. I was just coming to see you,” she announced, stepping aside so I could enter.
She sat down on the bed, dressed in one of the pajamas I had one of my father’s staff purchase and deliver to the house before we arrived. Pajamas never looked so damn good. The way they conformed to her frame, the way the color complimented her skin, the way she seemed at ease in them… Realizing I was staring, I trained my eyes to the view behind her instead.
“So, I had a few questions.”
“Okay,” I spoke, relaxing against the door frame and raking my fingers through my beard as I waited for her to speak.
“So, just for clarification…”
“Okay…”
“Will I be… Expected to have sex with you?”
My gaze shifted to her nipples peaking and peeping through the lace bra beneath the silk fabric she wore. “No,” I deposed, though my jaw flexed and my wistful expression spoke differently. She didn’t have to be intimate with me if that’s not what she wanted. I wasn’t in the business of forcing a woman to do anything against her will. The lost prospect did feel disheartening, however. Victoria was a beautiful woman.
“Will we share a bedroom?”
“No,” I sighed, relieved to be clearing everything up beforehand. I couldn’t imagine sharing a bedroom with her, exposing myself, and letting her see all my… unconventional behaviors. Hell no.
Stay your pretty ass over here.
“How will I be protected? How will I know I’m protected? Like what measures–”
“A detail, Beauty. You’ll know you’re protected by the men under my employ assuring your safety. You’ll know by the blessing of you opening your eyes to meet a new day, and arriving back here at the end of it to lay your pretty head to rest.”
She nodded, though her eyes were distant as she searched for more uncertainty for me to reconcile.
“Will you tell me what your connection to Javier was prior to you shooting him?”
My fingers raked through my beard as I considered that. The less she knew, the better for plausible deniability. She sought to understand my actions to put herself at ease. If it would enhance the likelihood of us staying married, I could give her that… “After we’re married,” I acquiesced.
One question after another, I laid her fears to rest.
“Will there be other women if I don’t sleep with you?”
Squinting my eyes, I palmed the crown of my head. “Victoria, there aren’t any women, but be reasonable. If you aren’t having sex with me, why would you care if someone else does?”
Already, I was sure of the answer to that question. It was her ego. It had to be. Otherwise, why the fuck did that matter? Our relationship would only exist on paper.
“Um. I was just wondering what to expect. I know you’re a man. I’m not foolish enough to think you don’t have needs the same as I do. I just want to brace myself for women coming to the house to –”
I could feel my patience waning as we remained on the uncomfortable topic of intimacy.
“Victoria,” I inflected. “I would never subject you to that, but what I choose to do with my dick is none of your concern if you openly reject him. Married or not.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. So, moving along. You said I’ll have my freedom. Will you allow me access to technology? My phone. A laptop. Can I return to work?”
“After we’re married.”
“Okay. But can I–”
“A million dollars,” I breezed, leaving a look of confusion on her face. I hadn’t moved from my stance against the door frame yet, but figuring I needed to be less relaxed as I made my offer, I stood to my full height, waiting for her response.
“What?” Her eyes flourished, awaiting an explanation.
“Marry me. Stay married for at least a full year, maintain your silence surrounding the events of the last two days, and I will give you a million dollars. After our time comes to an end, you can divorce me and return to your life before I ever came into the picture.”
I didn’t miss the way she blinked several times, the way she swallowed, the way her chest heaved up and down, or the way she gripped her manicured hands. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Internally, I chuckled at the Godfather joke I’d made to Supreme on the plane. I needed her to accept it as quickly as possible before my father acted on his threat.
“When do you intend for us to do this?” Finally, she asked the question that would lead us to progress.
“Tomorrow. We can go to the courthouse as soon as I get an officiator on the line.”
Panic obliterated her features. Already, her mind was racing to remedy the bomb I’d dropped on her. The woman was a damn busy beaver. She shifted around on the bed with a glazed-over countenance before those chocolate rounds met me again. “I need a dress. My hair isn’t done. My makeup…” she fussed.
Uncontrolled, my eyes orbited their sockets. “It’s not a real marriage. You can wear those fucking pajamas for all I care,” I clipped, motioning to what she was wearing. She reeled her head back, and it was then that I realized my mistake.
“I know it’s not real, Saint!” She fussed, scowling her disdain. “But I’m a fashion designer. People Google me. Soon, this will be public information, and I’ve never been married. I need pictures for my memory and to share online. You need a proper tux or suit. Don’t you dare think you’re wearing that,” she motioned with a disgusted grimace to my shorts and tee shirt. “Eventually, this will be in social media news! Wear pajamas? Seriously? Have you lost your rabid-assed mind?”
Instinctively, my toes curled as her voice elevated.
“Aight. Okay,” I furnished, easing out of the room with my hands raised in surrender. I didn’t do confrontation or… whatever the hell this was. It triggered my sensory overload. Exiting before I found myself the target of a full-blown explosion, I backed out until I was in the hallway.
“Write out a list, and I’ll have someone grab everything.”
Victoria spent the entire morning being tended to. A stylist was summoned to do her hair. She’d ordered several dresses to be delivered from her warehouse – all white in color. Her birth certificate and other documents were retrieved from her home in South Pointe to obtain a new license bearing my last name. By the time she was finished with everything, it was much later than I cared to be leaving the house, but whatever.
We headed downtown, warring against the lunchtime traffic to reach the courthouse. Once inside, we exchanged weightless vows in front of a reverend.
To have and to hold.
In sickness and in health.
Till a million do us part…
With a flourish, we signed the marriage certificate, and it was finished. She was Victoria Miller. Void of deep feelings, it was all very surgical. Inwardly, I vowed never to repeat such a farce.
It’s done.
I typed out the text and sent it to my father before hastily shoving my phone into my pocket. At his age, he wasn’t a big texter, preferring to hold conversations in person or over the phone. The lack of a response was expected.
“Can we go to the library?” Victoria asked, breaking me away from my thoughts and pointing across the street to the massive historical building. It was misty and overcast outside, giving the spring air a deeper than usual chill. This was the perfect time to crawl under a blanket and sleep. Home was where my heart rested, not amongst stuffy old books.
“I’m tired, Beauty.”
I was. It had been a long ass three days. Most of it was spent scoping out the beach on Komodo Island and waiting for Javier to make his appearance. My family needed me to come through with my unique set of skills to ensure the success of the mission, and I did. Now, all I craved was to make love to my bed and give my head to the pillows.
“We won’t be long. I promise.”
Like an eager toddler, she grabbed my hand and tugged, sending a shock of energy through me.
“The library? For what?” Mildly annoyed and confused, I questioned if I’d made a mistake. She’d only been my wife for five minutes and was already latching on to my nerves.
“Pictures. They have a nice, antique-looking seating area. I think it will look good as a backdrop.”
“Oka–”
Before that word was out of my mouth, Victoria was rushing across the street, one hand clasped over the red beret she wore and another hand gripping the eucalyptus bouquet she’d brought along.
Swiftly, I marched behind her, kissing my teeth and shaking my head. When we made it inside, she froze, taking in the surroundings and securing her target.
“It’s much darker in here than I expected. You’ll need to use your flash,” she instructed, walking over to an empty window near a red accent chair. She positioned herself against the wall at an angle and motioned me to stand where she wanted me. Lifting the phone to capture the photo, I hastened my thumb over the capture button.
“Wait! Is the flash on? It’s dark in here.”
“Victoria.” My inflection made my annoyance clear as I blinked slowly.
“Okay. One serious and one smiling. With the flash, Saint!”
She posed with her legs staggered and her chest pushed out, causing a slight arch in her back. Her free hand was tucked behind her slightly.
“Saint?”
“Yes?” I dragged, my thumb hovering over the capture button on my phone.
“Can you lower the phone a bit? Not too low. Yeah, right there.”
Audibly, I sighed. “Are you ready now?”
“Take several.”
“You said two,” I fussed.
“Haven’t you taken pictures for a girl before? Your mom or a sister?”
“They usually know not to ask me.”
“Well, you have a wife now,” she stomped, and it took all the strength in me not to laugh.
“Are you ready?” I asked, reopening the camera application.
“How do I look? Is my makeup okay?” She patted her hair.
Lowering the phone to my side, I looked at her. Like,really looked at her. She was dressed in a white off-shoulder gown by Demure with little white frilly shit on the arms. It hugged her subtle curves until it flared at the knee. Her ears housed these diamond-shaped earrings covered in rhinestones. Her hair was free and curly, like the previous day that I saw her on the beach –only this time much tamer. Her makeup was light, letting her natural beauty shine.
“Well, Saint?”
“You look gorgeous, Beauty.”
Her cinnamon rounds were big and playful. Her lips were full and kissable, imposing my attention. She looked like a Miller woman. Understated splendor. She looked like mine.
“Okay,” she motioned to the phone, returning to her original pose. “Snap at leisure.”
Placing the phone back in the position she’d initially instructed me to hold it, I began snapping nonstop because something told me she wouldn’t be satisfied with the several she’d mentioned.
In a few photos, she smiled. Not a modest, polite grin. She smiled, big and toothy like a child. It was the first time I’d seen her look so… happy. I knew it was staged for the image, but still… It did something to me. For me. A hidden dimple made its presence known on her right cheek, which I hadn’t noticed initially. It seemed only to make an appearance when she was smiling.
“Wait. Come here,” she motioned for my proximity.
“What now, Beauty?” Stepping closer, I waited for the subsequent request.
“Take one with me.”
“Victoria.”
“I know it’s not real, but… please. That lady has been staring at us the entire time. We can get her nosy ass to take the picture. Miss! ‘Scuse me!”
Already, Victoria was summoning the librarian’s attention. As the woman approached, she code-switched, requesting her assistance.
“Hiiiii. We just got married. Could you snap a few photos of us? For my memory book.”
The woman grinned as if we’d just made her day. “Oh, sure! How delightful. You know, I was married for forty-two years until my Harvey passed away. Spending life with him was one of the best experiences God gave me.”
Victoria was nodding as she snatched my phone from my hands and pressed it into the woman’s elderly fingers. I stood beside her, posing awkwardly. Noting my stance, Victoria repositioned herself. She stood in front of me off to the side, causing the scent of lavender emanating from her limbs to attack me. Sliding my hands to her hips, she then signaled the librarian.
“Beautiful,” the woman gushed. “Do you want another pose? This is forever, remember?”
“No–”
“–Yes!” Victoria spoke up louder, moving to stand behind me.
“Oh yes! I love that. A woman should always stand behind her man. Not because she is lesser. Because she supports him. She elevates him in the same way he would for her. We submit to one another. Behind every man is a great woman. Remember that.”
Victoria placed the bouquet aside and planted her hand on my back. With my hands crossed in front of me, I assumed my stance. Though I couldn’t see her, I could feel her head resting on my back as the woman continued snapping photos. The movement prompted me to shift and gaze at her slightly. There was a moment there when she lifted her head to return my scrutiny, boring into me with those milky chocolate rounds.
“Th–thank you, ma’am.” Victoria signaled the end of our stare-off and photoshoot, collecting the phone from the woman.
“Call me Mrs. Shirley,” the woman insisted.
Before departing us, Mrs. Shirley held Victoria’s hand and summoned for mine as well. Before I understood it, she was praying for us. For our union, for prosperity, understanding, health, and even vitality. Only upon concluding the prayer with an amen did she leave us.
Alone again, Victoria moved to sit in the chair she was initially posing by. Her demeanor was noticeably different, as was mine. Mrs. Shirley’s prayer had infiltrated us both. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was the weight of her words. Maybe it was both. We’d endeavored on a life-altering event void of all the preeminence and significance it was meant to hold.
Once positioned how she wanted, Victoria nodded in my direction, signaling me to capture the final images. I snapped a few of those, and then she finally freed me from my occupation as a photographer.
“Can you send them to my phone number?”
“You don’t have a phone, Victoria.”
“Yet. I don’t have a phone yet,” she reminded me of my promise to secure her a new device.
Without further hesitation, I opened my texting application and sent the photos to her number.
“I’m hungry, Saint. Let’s go to Butter Sage,” she suggested, pushing against the chair for leverage to stand. Instinctively, I closed our distance and held my hand out for her to steady herself as she rose.
“What’s that?” I asked, having never heard of the place. Exhaustion was wearing on me, sequestering my limbs to shut down. Between scoping out Javier and his people and dealing with her, I needed a firm bed and soft pillows, not butter or sage.
“Seriously? Have you never been to Butter Sage? They’re a new restaurant in town. They open for dinner soon and –”
“I don’t do crowds, Victoria,” I clipped, deflating her enthusiasm. Instantly, I felt like shit as I watched some of the excitement depart from her eyes. It had been a long forty-eight hours since we’d met for the both of us. She’d spent the majority of it somber and frightened. And then there was the unsettling fact that she had only smiled once since we’d crossed paths. Maybe I could make this one adjustment for her.
“Where is it?”