Smoke and Mirrors (60 page)

“Now,” he said, pointing towards the field. “You can start anywhere you wish, but I’d recommend from left to right. There are apple trees in the middle, and pears too, including the Asian pears. If you need anything, I or Darryl will be close by. Have fun and enjoy.” The man nodded and sauntered off, leaving the two of them standing there.

“I can’t believe you did this!” she squealed as she jumped into his arms, her basket beating him about the head. He kissed her cheek, placed her back on her feet, and they entered the picking area, talking along the way. Several feet ahead, others roamed about. Some were families, laughing and smiling. “Well, I guess we’ll get started… I love this!”

She was over the moon, her smile so large, it lit up the entire place, including his heart.

“I’m happy if you’re happy…thought it would be something fun to do. We’ve both been busy, distracted.”

She nodded in agreement as she stooped low and plucked a nectarine. After studying it a while, she placed it in her basket.

“How do you choose a good nectarine?” he asked, more for conversation versus concern.

“I try to make sure it isn’t bruised…that the colors are right. Also, you want it to have a little give when you push your finger into it. Not too much, that would mean it is overly ripe, but just enough where you know it’s sweet, and not too hard because it hasn’t ripened yet.”

“Reminds me of a woman.” He laughed, causing her to do the same. “You know, when I discovered this place I couldn’t believe it. Airplanes and fruit trees, two of our favorite things combined. It’s all the way out here in Llamo, but so well worth it.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life and never heard of this place, Smoke. I don’t know how you keep finding these little hidden gems. This is awesome!” The woman was still high on it all.

That smile on her face…I did that.

They continued on, collecting here and there, engaging in small talk until they’d reached the apple trees.

“Look how beautiful these are! All of these red, yellow and green apples! You know what, I’m not much of a baker, but I’d like to try my hand at baking an apple pie.” She plucked a dark red apple from the branch, and placed it inside of her basket.

Setting his own down, he gathered her in an embrace. Her body relaxed against his as he covered her face in sweet kisses.

“Hey,” he said, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “I need to ask you something.”

“Yes.” She took a step back from him, her expression mimicking his, and she mirrored his stance, too. “What is it?”

“A long time ago, I used to watch you from a window.”

“Yes, you already confessed your stalker ways a long time ago,” she joked.

He cracked a smile. “Yeah, I guess I am. But in that time, I got to know you in a whole different way, on another level. You would uh, jog in the mornings.” Warmth crept into his cheeks. “I liked watching your breasts go up and down. You needed a better sports bra, Paris but thank you for cheapin’ out on it and giving me a show.”

She smacked his shoulder, and both burst out laughing.

“Shhhh!” they said to one another, and this caused even more cackling.

“Anyway, you’d jog and you’d have this half eaten apple in your hand. And I’d think, she looks completely normal, you know? No one would know she sold pussy,” he whispered in her ear, titillated off the word now in a new way. “She looks like your regular girl next door, and for me, you
were
just a regular girl next door. There was nothing abnormal about the way you spoke, lived your life, carried yourself…

“When I saw you at the bank, I wanted you, Paris. I had come there to get some rules and boundaries established, but when I looked into your eyes for the first time, I was actually attracted to a woman
beyond
what that woman could
do
for me from a financial standpoint. Beyond the thought of what money she could bring me. I kept that image of you with that apple in my mind,” he said, pointing to his temple, “because I think on some subconscious level, that was my goal. To in fact
give
you a normal life, if you wanted it, to match who you really are inside.”

She tilted her chin a bit higher and a dreamy glaze formed on her eyes.

“We mirror one another. Our lives have been parallel. When many look at us, they may see complete opposites, but we know the truth. You are like a female version of me, and I, a male version of you. I think that’s why we get along so well; we kinda know what the other one needs before they say it. You’ve taught me a lot about myself.”

“…You’ve done the same for me, Brent.”

“And I know for a fact, if it hadn’t been for you, I’d still be doing things that were self-destructive, and refusing to find myself, to get to know myself.” He paused, catching his breath. “They say money can’t buy you love, and that’s true. Anyone who says otherwise has gotten wrapped up in an illusion. Love can buy love though, and that’s what we’ve done here. You gave me some; I gave you some. It was a mutual exchange. Like these apples we’re picking from the trees.” He leaned over and plucked one from a branch. “I can see my reflection in the apple, but is that really me?”

She stared into his eyes, holding onto his words.

“We bear fruit from our good deeds. One day when you have my baby, and it
will
happen,” he assured, while she hung her head and smiled, “that baby will be our apple,
our
fruit, a testament of our love for one another. I’d never made love before, Paris.” The words hung out there for a spell, while he caught his breath again.

“I’ve had a lot of sex, as you know, but uh, making love? No. You were my first.”

“…And you were mine.”

“And firsts are important. Just like when we were children. We remember all of our first times doing something new and exciting. When you were a little girl in that orange grove, you were being born all over again, bearing fruit inside your mind, realizing that you found something you could love… It was life changing. I brought you here today, Paris, to unwind with you, spend some time with you, but also because it’s time for me to plant
another
type of seed in this relationship.”

He slid his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black box. The woman’s basket hit the ground and out rolled plums, pears and nectarines, all over the damn place. She took several steps back, her body turned into a temple of trembles as she covered her lips with a quaking hand.

Smiling, he opened the box, then dropped to one knee.

“Get back over here, girl.” He laughed lightly. Tears ran down her face as she slowly returned to him, her knees almost knocking. “Do you remember the day when I was gone all of those hours at the bank, right before the incident that landed my ass in prison?”

“Of course.”

“I was at the bank handling some affairs, but I also made another stop, at the jewelry store. A week prior to that, I had picked you out an engagement ring, Paris. I had it made for you, and it was ready to pick up. When the police took me away, they found the ring on me, and went through great lengths to try and claim I stole it until they found the receipt, and the jewelry store owner vouched for me as well. So, I begged them to please return it to the store, and he promised to keep it for me until I could do this the right damn way.

“There was no way I’d propose to you while in prison, Paris. I loved you enough to not hold your life up, if I ended up having to stay in there for a long ass time. A woman like you needs to have wings, to move about, not be constricted. Our hearts are wild, baby. They fly!” He looked into her eyes, watching the tears continue to fall, a long, slow trek like a river. “That’s why we have ribs; they serve as a cage to keep our fluttering hearts intact. That’s the only confinement you needed, so I waited and by some amazing luck…no…” He shook his head. “By some
blessing
, I was set free and now, here is my chance.” After a short pause, he went on—“So Paris, the apple of my eye, will you marry me?” Now, he started to shake too, and a solitary tear even managed to escape and crawl down his face.

“Yes!”

Taking her hand, he slid the sparkling 5-carat cushion cut diamond ring onto her finger.

“Oh my God, Brent, it’s beautiful!”

The woman shook like a leaf, enough that he was certain she’d topple over. Getting to his feet, he gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips into hers, damn near sucking her life-force, taking her breath away. “You have no idea how happy I am!” She sobbed against him. “I wanted to marry you, Brent, but didn’t want to pressure you, especially with all that is going on. I had no idea you were up to this!”

“Of course I was. We are the same, just like I said.” He winked at her, then held her closer.

I’m not Adam, the john that was kind to you, wanted the world for you, but you are my Eve, Paris. As we stand in this garden of Eden, please know that my temptation for you is genuine, and there isn’t anything ugly, sinful or wicked about it. It’s pure, fresh and beautiful. No more smoke and mirrors, baby; the self-deception is over. I know who I am, what I need, and what the fuck I’m doing. And I know what I have and what I want. And that’s you, Pussycat. I can see our future quite clearly, now. Trust me, baby. I got this…

*

P
aris gave herself
a gentle tap on the back for planning a wedding of this magnitude in less than six months, let alone on a shoestring budget. Moreover, Smoke was buried in books, and she was working herself to the bone at the floral shop, but she loved every damn minute of it. He got a part time job at a hardware store because the man simply could not live with not bringing in one damn dime. She told him he was working to better himself, that was enough, but Smoke was old fashioned—he refused to have ‘some woman’ supporting him, as he’d say. Furthermore, they were still addicted to the finer things in life; they suffered from bubbly champagne tastes, and the last lingering drop from a life gone by needed to be savored on the tips of their hungry, greedy little tongues. Regardless, she made it work. She got creative with her bales of hay, weaving them into freshly spun gold. She took care of all the flowers herself, but she had a little assistance. Tasha and Juniper were her bridesmaids—the two women were like sisters to her, loyal, loving, and both wanted all that was good and beautiful to come her way.

Tasha had squared up and landed some firefighter for a husband. The man was so smitten with her ass, he spoiled her rotten. Paris couldn’t have been prouder of her. She was happy being square, to have hung up her fur trimmed G-string; well, at least when it came to other men…

Things were truly turning around. Juniper worked for an escort service ran by the notorious Madam Blanca. Blanca was a middle-aged, wealthy white woman from Russia who wasn’t nearly as generous as Paris had been, but definitely loved her girls and kept them under lock and key. April had moved out of state, she wasn’t certain where. Most of the other women Paris had under her ho-house roof seemed to have fallen off the planet; she couldn’t find her ladies, and neither Tasha nor Juniper knew where they were, either. She feared some may be strung out, but she tried to remain optimistic. Most women in prostitution were stuck in a vicious cycle. They fucked to get high, and got high to fuck. But where had they gone?

It was as if they’d vanished into thin, perfume-scented air. This wasn’t unheard of, especially considering their line of work, but her heart hurt, tugged and burned with sorrow at the thought. She wished they could all celebrate with her, to share in enjoying one of the most important days of her life.

She pushed one foot forward and adjusted the strap on her shoe, forcing her way out of the torrid, terrible cluster of depressing thoughts, and then, a sad smile formed on her face. She had at least one additional thing to celebrate. She’d picked a hell of a spot! Aqua Dulce Vineyards was the scene of the crime. This was where it paid to have wealthy clients once upon a lifetime, for one of the johns that frequented her establishment happened to be part owner of the fabulous wedding venue she’d selected. Normally they didn’t host weddings there, but he made an exception, just this teeny, weeny time, and it tickled her to no end. He even offered a spectacular wine and dessert reception and seemed almost happier about her upcoming nuptials than her and Smoke.