Saint Valentine
"Yeah, lemme talk to Shaundi."
"I'm sorry, sir, her jet just landed and Ms. Shaundi is in a meeting right now-"
"Yeah, I know, that means you'll have to get her out of it, doesn't it?"
The secretary seemed to recognize his voice now, staying quiet before stuttering a low "Yes, sir."
His hand moved up to his face, rubbing his forehead. He was pacing around the living room. The nerves got the better of him now. Bad plan, bad plan. Why the hell was this a good ide-
"Boss?"
"Hey Shaundi."
"Hey, everything alright?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. Do you have some time tonight."
"Um...yeah. Yeah, I got time. Why, you lookin' for mischief again?"
"Always."
"You called the right place. I was hoping to catch you sometime today anyway. Lemme finish up with these corporate assholes and I'll drop by. It shouldn't take too long."
"Alright, Shaund. I'll see ya later."
"See ya."
Click. He breathed out, releasing the pressure in his chest.
34, 35, 36, 37...
He heard the ding of the elevator followed by a clicking of heels against the floor. He finished the last three lifts before putting the weights back into the holders of the bench press. Shaundi stepped into view as he sat up, his body glistening with sweat. Her eyes glimmered as she caught sight of him, grinning wide and lifting her brows.
"Wow! Those bench presses are coming in handy!"
The comparison of outfits was almost comedic. While he wore nothing but basketball shorts and white sneakers, she wore a thin, fitted purple dress. It was strapless, low cut from the chest and rode up past the midpoint of her thighs. He never understood how she could even walk in heels: shining, black platforms heels at least 6 inches in height. Her hair hung past her shoulders. For a moment he thought she dressed up for him.
"Happy Valentines!" She quickly tiptoed her way over, holding something behind her back. "Close your eyes. I got a surprise for you."
The Boss rose to his feet, throwing the towel down to the floor and picking up his wifebeater. His brow lifted as he put his shirt on, licking his lips as his eyelids closed.
"Gimme your hands."
He did so. Something weighed them down...a box? Yeah. He opened his eyes, looking down at the cardboard package. Her thin arms still held it out for him, allowing him to see some of the tattoos on parts of her skin. "What's this?" His brows furrowed as he took it from her."
"The reason I had to stay there another day," She smiled, stepping backwards and out of the door to the living room. He followed. She spinned to face him as they reached the couches, biting her lip and smiling in excitement. "Open it."
Smirking, his eyes glanced up at her before going back to the crudely wrapped package. She kept talking as he began to unwrap it, ripping off the threads holding the wrinkled cardboard together.
"My ex texted me and I told him I was in Europe, he said he knew a guy who's brother knew someone from Europe that made the best of these to sale, though it was illegal, of course. I tried it out myself. It's a fucking masterpiece."
Inside the box laid a compacted .50 Cal rifle made of shining purple metal as opposed to just painted. Its handles were gold and beside it, fitted into styrofoam, were .50 BMGs to fit it - all engraved with the Saints' fleur.
"Fucking A..."
"Right? You don't have to stable it to shoot it, as long as it doesn't knock you off your ass when you pull the trigger you'll be fine." She grinned, looking over the Boss' expression as he lifted the gun up, making sure it was loaded.
"Shit, I won't have a problem with that!" He aimed it, pointing it outside. His finger was on the trigger and as much as he wanted to pull it, he didn't wanna fuck up the penthouse. He lowered his aim, smiling at her. "Fuckin' sweet, Shaund. Thanks."
"Don't mention it, as long as I get to play with it sometime," Her phone vibrated. Looking at the screen, she hit the ignore button before turning back up to him. "So, what are we waiting for? We gonna stir shit up or what?"
"Everything okay?" He motioned at her phone.
"Yeah, it's fine. I'm suppose to meet this guy for a date tonight."
He nodded, licking his lips as he looked up at the TV that was playing some kind of ass shaking video. "You can go now, Shaundi."
"But we didn't do anything. What do you need to get done? Let's go do it."
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."
"He can wait Boss."
"Shaundi, go."
"Fine," She shook her head, holding her arms out as she began walking. "I'll have my phone if you need me."
She looked back as she stepped into the elevator, he had already sat down again, playing with the guns that were on the table.
(1) New Message from Shaundi
Kill me.
His brows furrowed as he read the text, soon focusing on the TV again as he hit the ignore button.
She checked her phone. 46 minutes. Forty six minutes, and no answer. Why hasn't he answered? And is this dude still talking?
Shaundi's elbow rested on the table, her hand up against her temple, her lips poked out in boredom. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at the guy in front of her, who had somehow gone from talking about the richness of grapes to how different the scenery in Italy was compared to the scenery in France.
She smiled apathetically, not having the energy to even seem amused now. "Yeah, I know. I've went to both in the last two months."
He kept talking. She rolled her eyes. Someone told her he had millions in cocaine. Why is he in Steelport? Why didn't he talk to the Saints if he planned to sell? She didn't know, but she was gonna find out. The entire place was dull. Rich but older, more uptight people. They had been burning dirty looks at her all night...well, the wives anyway, the husbands seemed just fine with her outfit. She expected to go somewhere different. A club...something with a bar. Something with people under forty. She tilted her head back and chugged the rest of her champagne when a new voice came into the conversation. It was a waiter.
"Miss Shaundi?"
She swallowed the rest of the drink, clearing her throat before speaking. "Yeah...that's me."
"I'm sorry to disturb you miss, but you have a package here."
A delivery man stepped up. Her eyes widened, her voice bringing the live, classical music to a screeching halt. "Oh SHIT."
Handing her at least two dozens roses, the teenager smiled sheepishly down at her. "Don't...um...don't worry about the um...tip. He's, uh,...he's got it already."
Shaundi stared at the boy as he spoke, nodding...then turned to her date. "You got these?"
He was stunned...and shook his head.
The delivery boy pointed. "There's um...there's a card, Shaundi."
"Oh...," She pulled out the card stuck between the violet pedals, parting it open.
Happy Valentines, Shaund. - Boss
"Um...Sh-Shaundi?..."
It took her a second...but she eventually looked up at the voice of the 17 year old, holding out his pen and order pad. He smiled, exposing his metal braces. "Can I please get your autograph?..."
Bloomp.
He smiled, even more so when he heard the familiar clicking of heels echoing down the hallway. Her voice sounded behind him from the balcony of the second floor. It was low, softer than usual, each word getting pronounced with a hint of teasing and sensuality. She loved little things, he knew; cheesy and generic gestures of an overpriced holiday.
"I loved the roses." Delicate footsteps made their way down the stairs, closer to him.
He continued to focused on the show to be discrete if anything else. "Yeah, I figured you might."
"What's that?" She pointed at the small, wrapped present that laid on the couch beside him as she stepped forward.
He looked down at it, picking it up to hold it out for her. "For you. I didn't get to give it to you earlier."
Taking a seat beside him, she grabbed it, rested it against her knees, brow quirking at the size of the box. "This better be jewelry or some shit because I'm gonna be pissed if this is another light bulb..."
He scoffed, turning to look at her as she opened the gift. Tilting it, she held out her hand to catch the hacky sack that slid out. A wondering stare met his, even cuter in her subtle confusion.
"Hey, it was between that and another sombrero..." He snickered, shrugging.
Her middle finger flicked him off quickly, unable to stay serious too long. "Thanks, Boss...this is cool." Holding the footbag in her hand she looked it over. It had a touch of yellow and red, but mostly consisted of three different shades of purple. "Guatemalan. My favorite."
"You gonna stay tonight?"
The question hit her abruptly, posed in the exact same way, and her eyes moved up to his for a moment of silenceā¦and then she nodded, smiling lightly in his direction. He returned this gesture before turning back to the TV show. She did also, sliding out of her heels and tucking her legs in while resting her head against his shoulder.
