This story is fiction. The characters are adults in adult situations.
Warnings: The only person you can ever hope to truly know is yourself. Trust no one; use condoms. As my friend BearPup says, "dying for sex" should only be an expression... not a reality."If you are not of legal age or in a jurisdiction in which this document is illegal, go way. This is my story. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy it, let me know.
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If you are still reading this let me know. Jim Ford sojourn1950@yahoo.com
Chapter thirty-one
Daniel was eagerly awaiting Raymond's arrival. While he understood the need for security. Still, he was not fond of having strangers in his home. Especially, the first time he actually had a sleepover with a lover. Plus, he resented the idea, just a little, that he couldn't keep Raymond safe. The lover's had discussed this at length during Raymond's return flight and agreed they would accede to Ilya's threat assessment.
By the time Raymond physically showed up, dinner was well underway. The chicken was in the oven. The potatoes were ready to join the chicken. Bacon was frying to provide the hot grease for the wilted salad. The tiramisu/coffee ice cream dessert had just been slipped into the freezer to chill. Raymond was greeted with an enthusiastic embrace accompanied by a toe curling kiss. He presented his host with the wine for dinner. Daniel accepted the wine and grinned at his lover's shock at such a blatant display of affection. "I may keep myself in check in public, but I'll be damned if I hide my feelings inside my own home." As he made his declaration, he acknowledged both bodyguards with a steady, challenging gaze. Raymond introduced everybody and assured Daniel,that his men were accepting and discreet.
Once firm handshakes were exchanged, and he felt he had established his "king of his castle" role, Daniel immediately relaxed and became the affable host. To their credit, the bodyguards tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. They set up in the spare bedroom and arranged for their own dinner. They were either in the bedroom or outside. Daniel was again impressed with the professionalism of Ilya's security forces.
Raymond followed Daniel into the kitchen where he immediately washed his hands and asked what he could do to help. Daniel was draining the bacon and suggested they relax in the living room with a drink. After a short discussion they sat on the sofa with Blue Saffire martinis over ice. Daniel set up the drinks with three olives on a toothpick. He explained the first was to be eaten before the first sip, the second mid drink and the last after only the ice was left. Raymond argued that the olives were a holdover from a time when gin tasted like paint thinner with cloves. The newer, more subtle flavors did not require such affectations to make it palatable. With drinks in hand they moved back into the kitchen. Raymond expressed an interest in seeing the rest of the house since it was the first "modular" home he recalled ever being in.
Daniel conducted the tour. He explained that it was a three bedroom house, but since the smallest served as his office he thought of it as having two bedrooms. They ended up in the master bedroom. Raymond praised the quilt and was impressed to learn that Daniels mother had made it. He asked if she would be willing to make some for his ranch house. Raymond wound up texting her phone number to his decorator Linda. He wanted the quilts to serve as the focal point of each bedroom, like a work of art. Maybe duplicating Daniel's quilt and featuring Van Gogh's other works. He included a picture and Linda soon replied that she liked the idea and would contact Daniel's mother.
They returned to the kitchen where they talked about Raymond's impending parenthood. Raymond explained it would be about two weeks before they knew if his seed took and at least another four months to determine the gender. He had already told Linda to set up the nursery in neutral colors and use animal borders or some such along the walls. He explained that blue for a boy and pink for a girl was a manufacturing ploy, from the early twentieth century, intended to reduce waste and increase profits.
When profits came up, Daniel decided to broach a topic that he was both curious and concerned about; the Adams family's wealth. Daniel asked Raymond to take a seat at the kitchen/dining room table. "Raymond, I, long ago, suspected that the Adams' had more wealth than even a large ranch could provide. They have never flaunted it or even discussed it in my presence. I never asked. That would have been rude and none of my business. But, now I feel I have a right to ask. I mean, it looks like I will be a part of their lives through my relationship with you... unless I am being presumptuous"?
Raymond reached over and took Daniel's hand. "You know you have been a member of the Adams family since soon after you and Jeff met in school. The ranch was only the first source of income for the Adams family. Through profits from cattle they branched out into banking, then oil and pipelines, then real estate and now technology. In each of those endeavors they have profited greatly. The ranch, as a source of income, was eclipsed by banking profits, both of those were eclipsed by oil and pipeline profits. Technology investment returns currently exceed, by multiples, all other investment returns combined. Through puppet corporations we are invested in a variety of endeavors from personal security to food production enhancement research. I think what you really want to know is how much is the Adams family worth. Actual value fluctuates with the market, but currently they, Jeff, Uncle Joe and Aunt Mellie are worth a little over eight billion dollars. They aren't the richest family in Texas, but they are in the top ten.
Daniel was stunned. He had no idea his suspicions would be borne out to this extreme. A kitchen timer went off and Daniel, still in a daze, excused himself to slide the potatoes in the oven. When he came back he had still failed to conceptualize the outrageous amount. He simply pushed it aside for later consideration. "What exactly is your job? I mean, I know you went to law school, but you didn't represent Paul so you aren't a criminal attorney. So, what do you do"?
"Well, my specialty is corporate law I also have an undergraduate degree in accounting. I am a licensed CPA. As to my actual occupation... I head up a team that oversees the activities of all the diverse interests of AFT, the Adams Family Trust. It's my responsibility to ensure that all management activities are above board and all actions are in keeping with the moral and financial guidelines established by those who originally established the trust."
"And your worth? Mine is about $1400.00 in my checking account with $37,000.00 in savings and investments and nearly $130,000.00 In my retirement fund. I rent because I get a good deal and I want my first house to be on my own ranch."
"Believe me, Daniel, even as I tried to stay out of your life, Uncle Joe has insisted we keep an eye on you. He offered to aid you in attending college, but you chose the Marines instead. When you did attend college, he felt any offer of assistance he made would be viewed with a jaundiced eye and would raise too many questions. Still, he was apprised of your circumstance every thirty days from the time you left home until well... today. He was ready to help if you ever needed it whether you asked or not. Had you not been hired by the Sheriff's Office, he was prepared to offer you a position with AFT Security. AFT pays better and has better benefits."
"The only downside to that would be if something happened and we split, I would be without a lover and unemployed. I think I should stick with Sheriffin, at least until after the next election."
"Well, think about it. Between the Marines and the Sheriff's office you have the skills we need. Ilya has become a wealthy man in his own right. He speaks of retiring to a tropical island where there's no snow and no potato vodka." This last remark got them both to chuckling.
Before Daniel could remind Raymond that he had answered the question about personal wealth, a kitchen timer went off. Daniel excused himself and slipped a crusty loaf of bread into the oven.
Once Daniel resumed his seat, Raymond began, "You asked about my personal wealth. The Adams Family Trust compensates its employees very well. I get paid a hefty six figure salary. Actually, much closer to seven figures. My bonuses usually total several times my salary. I should mention that when I receive a bonus, each of my team members also receive bonuses. I have invested all my bonuses and some of my salary as a mirror of Adams Family Trust investments. As a result of my employment with the Adams Family Trust, my calculated net worth is slightly more than eleven million dollars." With that Raymond searched his lover's face. He considered offering to donate his accumulated wealth if it meant Daniel could accept his love. Raymond knew that that would not be a demand from Daniel.
At least this figure was one that Daniel could conceive. Where he got lost was trying to figure out the number of times his own net worth would have to be multiplied in order for it to equal Raymond's. Suddenly, inexplicably, Daniel felt a sense of comradeship with Paul that would ordinarily take years in civilian life or at least weeks in the Corps spent facing down enemy combatants together.
Daniel did a comedic double take, shake of his head. In spite of all the numbers bandied about, one thought rang crystal clear in his head, `a man is only worth his word'. That phrase was uttered by his father when Danny had failed to complete a promised task. Instead, he had gone off to have a good time with his friends. Even now that phrase was what he heard if he failed to keep a promise. "A man is only worth his word." A man's worth could not be determined by his bank account. Sure, Raymond might be able to cash a check for millions of dollars, but that didn't make him more valuable as a man, as a friend, as a mate. Daniel smiled warmly at his lover and reached over and clasped his hand. "You, Raymond Cargill Adams, are worth more than millions to me." Before the moment could fade, another kitchen timer alarm sounded.
Over dinner Daniel stepped, with trepidation, into another potential minefield. "Raymond, now that everyone knows you're an Adams and you're Jeff's brother by blood, what does that mean as far as the family fortune goes. I mean, I don't see you filing a lawsuit. But, I don't see them denying you a share of your father's inheritance."
Raymond lay down his fork, dabbed at his lips with his napkin and met Daniel's curious gaze. "The Adams have been my family since shortly after my father died. Jeff's father is not my father. He was my sperm donor. Had he known my mother was pregnant with his son, my life would have surely been different. He is not at fault for my being a bastard. But, in truth, no one could have loved me more than my real father did." With a wry grin he continued, "I can't imagine suing the Adams family any more than you can conceive of eight billion dollars. Believe me I know how difficult that can be. I work with that figure almost everyday and everyday it's a challenge. Fortunately, I most often deal in fractions of the total amount.
"Suing the Adams', I would sooner be forced to piss on my father's grave. If I know Joe and Jeff they've been arguing to see who gives me more. In a few days, Joe will call a family meeting during which I will be brought fully into the family fold by becoming Texas' newest billionaire. The thought alone is a little intimidating. I don't really see much change in my future. I will still do the same job, because I honestly love it. The biggest change for me is to officially change my name to Raymond Cargill Adams. That is being expedited, even as we speak. I just have to appear before the judge and swear the change is not for nefarious reasons."
Raymond sincerely complimented Daniel on each dish. After he swallowed the last of his second helping of tiramisu, he opined, "I am glad you chose this menu as the first meal you ever cooked for us. I enjoyed two helpings of every dish. That was twice as much as I should have. But, it was just so good."
"Well, I'm glad you're pleased, but garlic chicken is hardly romantic. I'd say it's rustic at best."
"It's not the menu that makes a meal romantic, it's the people, it's the occasion, it's... definitely not the food. But here, you went and prepared a delightful feast on this most romantic of occasions. Here on the day you helped conceive my child, on the eve of the first night we spend at your place, you have prepared our first dinner together. I am glad because this menu will forever be a favorite for both of us. I will never, again, have a wilted salad or garlic chicken or those lemon potatoes or tiramisu without remembering the man who so lovingly prepared it for me. I enjoyed this meal so much I can't wait to share it with you again. I certainly hope I don't have to wait for an anniversary. I could eat this every week... make that once a month. My waistline would reflect how much I love this meal if you served it more than once a month."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, You are being loquacious. All that just to get out of helping with the dishes. Ok. You win." In a falsetto that would make Scarlet cringe, "I am moved and flattered by your charm and eloquence, Sir. You may retire to the living room while I do the dishes. I won't be long. You can watch that new fangled TV while you wait."
As Daniel stood to gather the dishes, Raymond scooted back his chair and pulled the big man into his lap. "You know that girly talk doesn't do a damn thing for me. On the other hand, give me a man that talks dirty to me while I Jack off and then cooks me meal fit for a king and I will gladly dance through the flaming gates of hell just to lie close to this sweet man."
Daniel melted into Raymond's soulful kiss. For a few moments, the rest of the world and the dirty dishes were forgotten. Eventually, they cleaned the kitchen together.
MEANWHILE....
Paul insisted everyone gather in the family room. Once everyone was seated he began, "This morning, I was not at my best. I was emotionally withdrawn and feeling pretty sorry for myself. I was rude to all of you, collectively and individually. Some definitely more than others, but I am embarrassed by my behavior toward all of you. I want you to know that I am publicly apologizing for my pissy assed attitude. If I behave like a jerk again, I hope you all won't hesitate to call me on it. I know we are not family, but we have been through a lot and I know I speak for Jeff when I say, each of you matter to us more than just as a respected employee. I would be proud to acknowledge people of your caliber, any one of you, as blood kin. Thanks for listening."
Rosarita was the first to speak. "Paul, no one really expects you to be as perfect as Jeff thinks you are. He's the only one you got buffaloed. We all have bad days and if your behavior today is as bad as it gets for you... well, everyone around you is pretty lucky. When I have a bad day, I try to share the wealth. I cuss and shout and throw things. The last thing I want to see is a smiling face when I'm in a bad mood." Fred snickered and nodded his head in agreement.
Rosarita blushed and continued, "That reminds me. You guys need a cook/ housekeeper/ nanny. I think you should consider Fred. I didn't tell him I was going to speak to you two, but I am. Now, I figure, is as good a time as any. Fred would be a great choice. He has formal training as a chef. He is the oldest of ten children and served as a built in babysitter since before he could do long division. He already gets along great with Maria and everyone here. You wouldn't have to worry about bringing in a stranger who might not fit in. He can cook and manage the household plus provide personal protection for the Princess. Also, if you hire him I could come visit during holidays and breaks." As the last sentence was uttered, she stared into Fred's eyes as if unsure she would be welcomed by the one she really wanted to visit. His warm smile reassured her.
Paul shifted his glance from Rosarita to Fred and finally to Jeff. Jeff stood beside Paul. "Fred if that is something you are interested in getting more information about, hang around for a bit and we can discuss the duties and expectations and compensation. While we are on the subject of security detail. Sam and Dave and Fred, you are to consider yourselves as permanently assigned to Paul, Maria and myself as our personal security team. Nothing really changes as far as your position, seniority in the company or your responsibilities are concerned. You will receive a fifteen percent increase in pay effective immediately. Sam as senior team member, you will coordinate all scheduling of days off, vacation and sick leave so we have continuous coverage. You will continue to answer to Ilya and coordinate with Tink. Are there any questions"?
No one was surprised when Fred held back as the others resumed their duties. In the ensuing discussion Fred confirmed all that Rosarita had shared. He grew up in a devout Mormon family, on a ranch, in Utah. His parents accepted that he refused to serve on a mission. He was close to finishing his degree when funds ran out. That meant that his parents found out he had a roommate sharing his one bedroom apartment. Worse yet, his roommate was a female who also shared his bed. He joined the Marines and once he decided not to reenlist a buddy suggested he contact AFT Security. The rest as they say is history. By the time the interview was over, Maria had a new "manny".
When Jeff called "Grandma" Mellie to say they were coming by to pick up Maria, Grandma insisted they plan on staying for supper. Once properly greeted, Jeff and Paul were led into Joe's office where Ilya and Tink were already seated at the conference table. Joe explained. "What we are about to share is sensitive information. Normally I would have included Raymond and Daniel in this meeting, but Raymond is on a social call and Daniel is likewise engaged." At this, Tink giggled unashamedly. Joe, grinned, cleared his throat and continued, "They will be briefed in the morning. We have learned that Deputy Jones, the man that refused to arrest Raymond's mother and whom Daniel fired, has suddenly acquired funds to hire a professional campaign staff in order to seek the office of Sheriff. Further, he has hired a local attorney, Sam McMurtry, to represent him in getting the county commissioners to authorize a special election. All indications are the special election is a done deal. McMurtry has been to visit the incarcerated mayor and apparently the mayor has agreed to resign "to demonstrate his concern for the city he holds dear in his heart". This clears the way for the city to piggyback onto the county's special election as an ostensibly cost saving measure. Now, the question is, who is their candidate for mayor?
Author's Note:Thanks to Nathan who took the time to make this a better read.
Jimsojourn1950@yahoo.com