CH 2: Brothers-in-Law
It was Sunday, and supposedly a non-work day, but yet someway, somehow, she found herself at work and late, yet again. Cosima was in her office, with her hands buried deep inside her filing cabinet. She was fishing for a file she had no idea even existed. And though she placed her hands at high risk of a life-threatening paper cut, it did little to deter her from multi-tasking. She had her cellphone jammed between her head and her shoulder, a maneuver she's come to master after years of practice, and broken screens.
"Why am I doing this again?"
"Because you love me. Duh." Cosima stated matter-of-factly. "And because you love my sister, dearly and whole-heartedly. And when you took her as your lawfully-wedded wife, you signed up for this madness. There's no backing out now, is there? You've had a taste of the milk, you can't return the cow, buddy."
"Uh. Are we still talking about Alison?"
"Obviously."
"And you're comparing her to a cow?"
Cosima didn't have time to dwell. "That's beside the point. But you get the idea."
"Such a smooth talker, you are, Cosima. How in the world are you still single?" Donnie said, in the thickest, most sarcastic tone he could muster.
Cosima rolled her eyes. "But all kidding aside, Donnie, I really do appreciate this. I would've gone myself, if Rach wasn't on my ass about this Emerald City project."
"I like to think of it as a plus, for not working in the family business. Not only is it way less stressful, it's less hernias, too, if you think about it."
Cosima's finger finally came upon the file folder she was looking for. But unfortunately for her, the long tab left an imprint on her index finger, in the form of a paper cut. She was so close to being home free, too. Cosima simply sighed, and rubbed the fresh trace of blood onto her skirt.
"Are you sure you gave me the right list?" Donnie asked. "I mean, reading this grocery list alone, gave me diabetes."
"Just do it, Donnie. I can't talk now, I have to go. I'm late for this crappy meeting, as is."
"How are you even late?" Donnie was beyond baffled. "You weren't even supposed to be at work today."
Cosima pretended like she didn't hear that last part. "Bye, honey."
- o -
It was a late day for work, considering the fact that it was a Sunday. But that's what you get for marrying into the family business; it was a lesson Paul had come to learn the hard way. He would much rather be at home, with a nice glass of Disaronno and Coke on the rocks, as he indulged in Sunday Night Football. The New England Patriots were playing tonight.
Paul made his way downstairs, to the 4th floor, where the general boardrooms were. These days, the majority of his time was spent sitting in dull meetings. But that's what happens when you move up the corporate ladder; when you go from blue collar to white collar. The verdict's still out, as to whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.
The door to boardroom C was ajar. Paul held his hand to knock, when the sound of roaring laughter stopped him dead in his tracks. Paul recognized that high-pitched, nasally voice from anywhere. It was Barbara. Paul hated her fat guts with a fiery passion, and with good reason, too. The woman was a blabbermouth. How in the magical fuck, did she manage to retain the position of Divisional Manager of Acquisitions was beyond him.
"Yeah. That's what I heard, too."
"Really? Big dick Paul?"
"It can't be that big, can it?"
"That's all he's good for. We all know he only got the job because of Sarah. If it weren't for her, he would still be on site, nailing boards instead of a Black. Jesus. I fucking hate him."
"That's talent, right there." A woman in an equally pitchy voice said. "If you can knock up a Black, and get her preggers, that's some magical sperm you've got. He's our very own Kevin Federline."
"Too bad they're all taken. Well, except Cosima." A man said rather sadly.
"Are you kidding me?" The same woman replied, "She's the hottest one of the group. Have you seen her?"
The guy scoffed. "Yeah. Good luck with that. You and your magical puanani have a long road ahead of you."
Paul simply stood there, rooted to the floor.
A gentle hand tapped his shoulder. It was Cosima.
"Hey. What's wrong?"
Paul shook his head, smiled and said, "Nothing. I was waiting for you."
And with that, Cosima entered the boardroom, with Paul in tow.
- o -
It took them nearly two hours' time, to finally agree upon a time frame on when Phase One of Emerald City could commence work. By the time financing, labor, machinery, zoning, licenses, insurance, and every little crap-tastic detail was tentatively finalized, they were looking at six months, maybe even a year. Real estate development was every bit as time consuming as it was a nightmare.
They still had plenty of kinks to work out, but Cosima threw in the white towel. She had plans tonight; ones she simply couldn't blow off.
"Thanks, guys. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Cosima quickly packed up her stuff, and headed out the door after Paul. "Everything okay?"
Paul simply nodded, and smiled, "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"
"I mean, you're awfully quiet. You barely said a word in there."
"I'm fine, Cosima." Paul faked a yawn. "I'm just exhausted, that's all. Between supervising the Emerald site, and caring for Kira, I haven't been getting enough sleep."
"Okay. If you say so." Cosima didn't want to push the matter any further; not after sensing Paul's reluctance. "Anyway. I'm going to head home now. I'm cooking tonight. I'll see you at seven. Don't be late!"
Paul smiled, and headed back the way he came. The elevator was empty. His office was situated on the 8th floor, though that wasn't where he was going. Cosima wasn't wrong. His mood was indeed sour. Everything that came spewing from Barbara's bat lips had struck him, like a stake to the heart. It rang true, though he didn't want to admit it. He was steaming, and he needed to vent that steam, before he exploded in a spectacular flashover.
Paul twisted and turned; he knew exactly where he was going. He walked past the reception desk without so much as a glance at the receptionist. He continued his beeline, till he came upon an office. And there, behind her desk, was a woman on the phone.
"The appraisal isn't until next Wednesday, at eleven."
Paul grabbed the receiver and said, "She'll call you right back."
Claire sat there, completely stunned by his reckless actions. "What the fuck, Paul?! That was a live call, from Singapore!"
Paul grabbed her by the wrist, and led her out the door. He hasn't so much as uttered a single word to her.
Claire, unsure of what to do, simply followed his lead.
They didn't have to go far. Just a few doors down, was the copier room. It was the only room in the entire floor that didn't have security cameras installed; this he was certain of.
Paul slammed the door shut, and locked it.
"Will you just talk to me?"
Paul paid her no mind. He pulled her in by the collar of her blouse, and he devoured her lips. While his mouth was preoccupied, his hands worked its magic, as it made quick work of her buttons. There were a few stubborn ones, but he didn't care, he simply tore them off. His callous hands pushed her bra aside, and his hungry mouth had found itself a new target. Paul suckled against the nipple roughly, hungrily, and wildly. He didn't care. He wasn't in the mood to care. He wasn't here to make love. He was here to fuck. This was, in his own sick, twisted, and perverted sense, a way for him to reclaim his bruised manhood.
"Ow!" Claire screamed. "You're hurting me!"
Paul picked Claire up by the arms, and sat her down on one of the many tables used to sort mail. This particular table had one wobbly leg, but that was the farthest thought from Paul's mind. He dropped his pants, to about knee length. When he was right and ready, he yanked Claire's panties off, and threw them against the wall.
"Jesus Christ! Will you slow down?!"
Paul licked his fingers, and gently probed Claire between her legs. She was dry. She wasn't wet, not in the slightest. But like he said, he couldn't care less about her pleasure nor her comfort. This wasn't about her, or her needs. No. This was about him. He was going to enjoy this. He was going to own up to this, like a real man.
Paul spat in his hand, and moistened the tip of his hard cock. He was fully erect. He could feel his cock pulsate with a life force of its own. His cock was hungry, and ready to feast upon savory flesh.
With one hand to guide his cock, and the other to steady himself, Paul inserted the entire stretch of his manhood inside Claire, in one violent upward thrust. He entered her, with much difficulty, though that did little to slow him down. He pounded down on her, again and again. His hips were alive and wild, grinding against her pelvis with a mind of its own.
At this point, all Claire could do was hold Paul close, and claw at his back every time she felt he was being too rough with her. She wasn't wet. The friction, on such a sensitive area, that was the worst part. But after a while, it wasn't too bad. While Paul vented his frustration out on her, she would close her eyes, moan and groan every so often, but in reality, all she could bring herself to do was think about a destination, a place, maybe a beach somewhere, far and away the Hell from this stink hole.
Paul was close. He could feel the pressure build from his testicles. He just needed that extra nudge, in the right direction. He pulled out unexpectedly.
Claire screamed, yet again, from the somewhat violent pull out.
Paul used his intimidating size to his full advantage, as he continued to handle Claire like a Raggedy Ann doll. He lifted her off the table, and made her kneel.
Claire didn't want to. Every time Paul forced her head down, she would resist the best she could. Short of yelling stop, Claire did her best to hold off. She really didn't like giving blow jobs, especially to someone as rough as Paul.
Paul finally broke his silence. He said, "Do this, or this will all be for nothing."
Even from the floor, in such a compromising position, Claire shot daggers at Paul. With much hesitation, Claire opened her mouth, and sucked his dick.
Paul grabbed a lock of her hair, and practically used it like a harness, to guide Claire's moist lips. He made her deep throat him. There were a few times when he thought she would vomit from her gag reflexes, right then and there. But she didn't.
It didn't take Paul long to finish. Claire's mouth was warm, and moist; so damn moist. When he came, he hunched forward, and stroked his shaft, all the way to the tip, as he squeezed out every last drop. Paul was rough, but he wasn't inconsiderate. He didn't make Claire swallow. No. He simply came on her blouse.
When he was done, Paul simply pulled his pants up, and helped Claire back onto her feet.
"That bag, the one you won't shut up about."
"Yeah?"
"I'll have someone send it to your apartment."
"Oh, thank you!" Claire threw her arms around Paul's neck, and kissed him on the cheeks, repeatedly. "Thank you; thank you; thank you!"
That's all this ever was: a business transaction.
- o -
Daniel was in his study.
It was rare, but he was at home, and quite literally doing nothing. He liked these lazy Sundays, whenever he had the luxury. He liked to be by himself, with a cup of hot coffee, and just read. Whatever the material may be, be it a book, the news, or even a blog post, as long as it was an interesting read, he would indulge himself.
He was in the midst of an interesting article, put forth by the DYAD Institute about its latest research on clone sequencing, and nucleus cell modification. He had no clue what half the article was about, but the concept was fascinating, nonetheless.
And that's when his phone rang. It wasn't a call. No. It was a push notification. It was an alert to notify him that he had a new file awaiting him, in his cloud storage. Daniel smirked. This storage account was one of a kind, and served one purpose and one purpose only.
Daniel opened a new window, and entered his login information. There on his server, was a single file, like the notification promised. He pulled open the top drawer, and retrieved a USB stick. He went ahead and moved the file. When the transfer was complete, Daniel made sure to delete the file off his cloud storage, so that the only copy in existence would be on his USB.
Daniel renamed the film to reflect today's date. He then opened the media file. There, playing on full screen, was an eight minute clip of Paul, fucking the daylights out of Claire Hatcher. He wasn't lying when he told Paul that the company didn't install any cameras in the copier room. Black Crown Corp. mostly certainly didn't, but he sure as Hell did.
He didn't have a particular purpose in mind when he started recording Paul's indiscretions. And presently, that remained so. But still, leverage on Paul, and perhaps even Sarah, can never be too much of a bad thing.
Daniel restarted the video, from the very beginning. He was going to enjoy this. Paul's past performances have never failed to disappoint. He unzipped his fly, and got to work.
Lazy Sundays were the best.
- o -
It was customary, a tradition almost, for the Blacks to meet every Sunday evening for dinner together, as a family unit, regardless of schedule. The Black sisters would rotate every month, as to who would do the cooking. It was the start of a new month, and it was Cosima's turn to take the reins.
Every sister was different. Whenever it was Rachel's turn, she would simply order take out from the finest restaurants the City of Toronto had to offer. It wasn't bad. But it didn't exactly have a personal touch one would come to expect from a home cooked meal. Sarah was, by far, the worst cook. She was even worse than Rachel. At the very least, Rachel knew how to cook, she simply didn't fancy it. Sarah couldn't so much as pour milk on cereal, without starting a grease fire. Of the four Black sisters, Alison was the master chef, hands down. She had the Martha Stewart touch, if Martha Stewart didn't go to jail, and was reincarnated into an OCD housewife, minus the kids. Alison would work wonders in the kitchen, unseen by the likes of anybody in this household. Give her a tube of cheese and a crayon, and she would turn that crap into a gourmet serving of lobster mac and cheese. She was that good.
Cosima wasn't talented, not like Alison was, but she was creative. Tonight's feast was bound to leave a lasting impression on the family.
They had a big family, but an even bigger house. The place had 14 bedrooms, 16 washrooms, 10 full baths, a rec room, an exercise room, a theatre, 2 guest houses, and a creepy cool room in the basement that served no purpose at all, except to scare Kira. You could lose yourself in the place, if you didn't know where you were going; it was that big.
They grew up poor. They weren't privileged, or spoiled. Their mother insisted that they lived together, under one roof. And in all honesty, it wasn't bad, once you got used to it. In some ways, it's nice to come home to family and a warm home, as opposed to a cold and lonesome house. That's what this was. This was a home, not simply a house; a difference with a massive distinction.
Cosima wasn't lying earlier when she said Donnie was her favorite brother-in-law. He truly was. He was genuinely nice, easy-going, and definitely funny as Hell. Not only did he do the shopping for her this afternoon, but he was with her in the kitchen, dancing away at the stove-top, giving her the much needed hand.
"Alright. That's the last of them." Donnie turned off the burner. "Best of luck to you. Rachel doesn't exactly seem like the fun, laughing type, you know?"
"How can she not love this?" Cosima gestured at the food. "This is me being creative."
"I can't argue with you there." Donnie agreed.
The table was set. And the feast was ready to be feasted upon.
And like bears on honeycomb, one by one, the Black family made their way from all four corners of the house, and took their seat at the table. And there, placed before them, was an array of dishes and food, all prepped and ready to be consumed.
"What the Hell is this?" Sarah voiced, "I thought we were having dinner?"
"Ladies and gentleman, and Lady Kira."
Kira giggled quietly.
Cosima continued, "Breakfast is now served."
"Seriously?"
"Why not, Ali?" Cosima replied, "Who says breakfast items can't be eaten for dinner. I have everything you'll ever want. I've got French toast, waffles, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, baked beans, crêpes, eggs benedict, hash browns, tater tots, ham and bacon, and sausages. And for my favorite niece…"
"I'm your only niece, Auntie Cosima!"
"Cocoa Puffs!"
Kira clapped, "Yah!"
"You really went the whole nine yards, didn't you?" Sarah stabbed her fork, "You even got blood pudding, eh?"
Cosima snapped her fingers. "Specially prepared, just for you and Rach. You Englishmen, and your incessant need to consume everything gnarly."
Rachel, seated at the head of the table, smiled. She genuinely smiled. Cosima was their youngest sister, but she was also the most thoughtful one. Rachel dug right in, and took in a mouthful of the black pudding. It was grilled to perfection on the outside, and soft and gooey on the inside; it was the perfect consistency. Rachel hasn't had a full English breakfast since Uni; it brought back a sense of nostalgia that made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Rachel helped herself to a second serving of the black pudding, after devouring the first; something Cosima took notice, almost immediately.
"This is delicious, Cos."
Cosima stuck her tongue out, and grinned. It was the seal of approval from her big sister. It made everything seem worth it.
Paul, Daniel, and Donnie weren't picky eaters, not like Rachel and Alison. And before you know, the entire table was tucking into the delicious food. The room was alive with chatter.
And it didn't take long for the entire table to be devoured clean either. The plates were spotless. Paul was the biggest eater of the lot. With him there, there were no leftovers to speak of. His stomach was a bottomless pit.
"That pop tart was perfection." Donnie kissed his fingers. "It was marvelous. How do you do it?"
"Thank you, Donnie. I got the recipe from Rachel Ray. The secret is to eat the pop tart, without the wrapper."
They shared a light laugh between them.
"Actually, now that I have everyone's attention, I have a matter to bring up." Rachel said, as she stood up, "I want a show of hands, as to who will be attending the opening of the Mont Tremblant resort next weekend?"
"Shite." Sarah had completely forgotten about that. "Is that next week?"
"How's that even possible?" Alison asked, "I shot you an email just last week. And I even wrote it down in your calendar for you."
"I have a calendar?" Sarah wasn't joking; she was truly baffled. "Since when?"
"Well?"
"It should be fine. I'll move some things around." Sarah nodded, "Are you good, babe?"
"Yeah. We could drop Kira off at my mom's. We can have a get-away weekend, just the two of us."
Paul pulled Sarah in, and kissed her ever so tenderly on the lips.
"That's so sweet; I nearly vomited in my mouth." Cosima shuttered.
"Donnie and I will be there, Rach. We'll probably be there before any of you. There's a few things we have to work out with the event planner, anyways."
"Alright. And what about you, honey?" Rachel asked. "Will you be able to make it to Mont Tremblant next weekend?"
Daniel shook his head, "No. I'll be in Shanghai next week, for the Emerald City vendor's meeting with our supplier. I won't be back till the 7th."
"I'm sorry you won't be there." Rachel said sincerely. "What about you, Cos?"
Cosima had a spoonful of Trix cereal in her mouth, but that did nothing to deter her enthusiasm. "Hell yeah, I'll be there. I would never say no to a party with an open bar."
A broad smile graced Rachel's lips. She saved the punchline for last; she knew what Cosima's reaction would be. "It's a theme party; a masquerade party, to be exact."
Milk squirted from Cosima's nose, as she choked on her cereal. "Oh, Hell no! A masquerade party? Seriously? What is this, an episode of The Vampire Diaries?"
Alison scoffed, and pointed an accusing finger at Cosima, "I knew it! You do watch it, don't you? You liar."
"You will be there, Cos." Rachel said sternly, "And you'll be on your best behavior, yes?"
"Fine."
"And bring a date, Cos." Sarah suggested, "A bit of arm candy might do your cranky mood some good."
Cosima simply rolled her eyes.
"But not that girl." Alison gestured with her hands, "What's her name? You know, that girl that kept scratching her groin, whenever she thought no one was watching."
"Zooey." Said Rachel.
Alison snapped her finger. "That's it, Zooey!"
Sarah groaned, "I still have nightmares, when I caught that nutter scratching herself, and then smelling those wanky fingers of hers. It was like she was digging for candy, in that gaping rabbit hole of hers."
Kira giggled, "Why's there candy in a rabbit hole?"
Cosima lost her appetite. "That's my cue. I'm gone. If anybody wants me, I'll be in 2006, when masquerade theme was still a thing."
"Who's got the dishes?" Paul pointed out.
"Not it!" Donnie shouted.
"Not it!" Paul, Sarah, and Daniel quickly screamed in unison. Even Rachel got in on the joke.
Alison simply sat there, and grunted. She was surrounded by crazies. "Really?"
- o -
A/N: Reactions?