A Whirlwind Affair
The Why of It All - Part II
And he had actually been worried that Hayak would be offended that he wasn't attending Isabel's wedding ceremony.
As Arman stood there under the portico, listening to the man who, with every word, it was just that much clearer was his boss… and just his boss, he was struck by his own gullibility. With a few well placed 'sons' and a couple back slaps, Arman had fooled himself into thinking that not only did Hayak see him as an equal but that he also considered him family. He had even fallen for the sacred Armenian tradition bullshit Hayak had fed him earlier that week, swallowing those lies with a smile and practically begging for more. The truth, however, was, whether out of justified mistrust of Tarik's capability or a desire to add yet another crime onto Arman's laundry list - there was already money laundering, the trafficking of illegal weapons, conspiracy, tax evasion, and murder, so why not bribery as well?, he was nothing more than the Barsamian Syndicate's sin eater. Isabel's admission moments before had all but confirmed what Arman had been too blind, too loyal and too desperate, to see for himself.
He was the help. He meant and was valued no more than his own father who had been Hayak's gardener. Sure, if Arman was struck down with a heart attack as well, Hayak would pay for his surgery - the organized crime version of severance pay, but it didn't matter who or what Arman was willing to sacrifice for the Barsamians, he would never be one of them. He chose and made them his family over his own flesh and blood, yet he wasn't good enough to date Isabel. He lied, cheated, stole, and killed for Hayak, but when Arman practically begged the older man to trust him and his judgment, Hayak wouldn't even give Arman the consideration of hearing him out.
And now? Now, Isabel, the good daughter that she was, was marrying an Armenian man; and Tarik, the colossal fuck-up, was being sent overseas to fight for his country, his people, his family name; and Arman, the lackey, the yes-man, the help , had been ordered to fetch a wayward city councilman.
When he woke up that morning, he thought it might hurt to see Isabel promising to love and cherish another man. After all, so much of who he was now was tied to loving her… or thinking himself in love with her when they were kids. Lately, Arman had begun to question… everything about his past, about the man he had become, about what he wanted for his future. At the time when he had started to work for Hayak, he did it because it would allow him to provide for his family and prove himself worthy of being a part of theirs. Now, however, he wondered if it was less about winning Isabel's hand and more about the challenge of wanting Hayak to see him not as the help but as an equal. But saying goodbye to Isabel once and for all - the dream of her and what she represented - hadn't hurt. If anything, it had been illuminating… and not just in regards to how her father saw him all those years ago when they were teenagers but also because he had realized, no matter what any of them did, Isabel would always be her father's little princess, Tarik would always be the heir, and Arman would always be the gardener's son.
In a way, by finally accepting that truth, Arman felt… free. He had spent more than half of his life completely devoted to a man who considered him disposable, replaceable. Any conflict he was fighting in regards to what was expected of him and what he expected from himself dissolved. Their world - Hayak's world that Arman had adopted as his own - was all he knew: making deals and making money by any and all means necessary. And he was good at it. He liked the challenge, and he loved outsmarting and getting the better of not just his competitors but the law as well. But, for the first time since he was a teenager, Arman was going to do things the way he wanted, the way he saw fit.
For the past month - ever since Thony came into his life, he had tasted that kind of independence, acting with impunity to keep her safe. Making those decisions had felt good, had felt right, and now he was going to approach the entire business with that same lack of guilt towards and consideration for the Barsamians. After all, Nadia might still believe that Hayak was prepared to make them equal partners, especially with Tarik joining the Armenian army, but between Isabel's less than surprising revelation and Hayak's own dismissiveness, Arman saw the writing on the wall: he wouldn't even be given the chance to pitch his offer on the hotel and casino. Hell, he'd be lucky if Hayak continued to allow him and Nadia to run the club.
"Actually, that will work well," Arman announced, casually lifting his left wrist to glance at his watch. He already knew what time it was, and he knew exactly how long it would take him to get where he needed to be next - he always did, but he wanted to affect a cool detachment in response to Hayak's request that he fetch Knight. It was easier than he would have expected, because Arman found that he just… didn't care that, not only was he unwanted at Isabel's wedding, but that Hayak thought he was making a point and putting him in his place by sending him on such a denigrating errand. "I actually have somewhere else I need to be. I'll call him on the way. If he doesn't answer, I'll have just enough time to swing by Lexi's room - Knight's practically living with her these days - and see what the holdup is." Dropping his arm back to his side, shrugging, and grinning, Arman dismissed, "I'm sure they just… lost track of time. Maybe Lexi couldn't decide what to wear."
Hissing next to him, Nadia wanted to know, "he's bringing the aerialist to a family wedding?!"
Hayak, however, did not seem concerned about who was Councilman Knight's plus one, which was telling for both Arman's wife and his boss. While Nadia was still too wrapped up in appearances and what she wanted from both Hayak and their place in his world to actually see what was right in front of her, Hayak's eyes were open and clear - his illusions shattering after hearing just a few casual sentences from Arman. "You double-booked my daughter's wedding?"
Smiling once again, Arman tucked his hands into the front pockets of his tuxedo pants and rocked back on his heels. "What can I say? You can't fight love." Turning serious once more, he calmly stated, "I did what you asked of me here. I collected the gifts. But with my duty to you done, I'm needed elsewhere now. Being Carlos' best man is more important."
"I didn't know Carlos was seeing anyone, let alone engaged," Hayak observed, brows pinching together in consternation.
"That makes two of us," Nadia murmured from beside Arman.
Ignoring his wife, he addressed his boss, "it's been a… whirlwind affair."
"I'll say," Nadia remarked with a huff, watching him closely, obviously suspicious, "considering that I've never even heard of this woman before." Luckily, Hayak seemed too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention to anyone else.
"With the club closed for the next few days because of the wedding festivities, we thought it made sense for Carlos and Fiona - that's his fiancee's name - to marry now as well, though theirs will be a much quieter affair: just them, myself and her friend, Gabby, as witnesses, and Fiona's two children."
Perhaps because of the life-altering decisions he had recently made in regards to his own children, Hayak seemed particularly struck by learning that Carlos' fiancee was a mother. "Carlos will be a stepfather now?"
"Actually, they're talking about adoption," Arman informed him. Before either Hayak or Nadia could react, he kept talking, "but I really need to get going if I'm going to track down Knight for you before meeting up with Carlos." Bussing a ghost of a kiss over his wife's cheek, Arman requested of her, "you'll pass along my regrets to the bride and groom?" Without waiting for her response, he asked, "and, Hayak, you'll see that Nadia makes it home safely later, won't you?" His boss blinked several times in rapid succession before taking the hand that Arman had outstretched towards him. "I'm not sure what time I'll make it back tonight… if at all. I'm going to be helping with Chris and Jaz, Fiona's kids, for the next few days while she and Carlos are on their honeymoon."
"Yes, of course," a flustered Hayak agreed. It nearly made Arman laugh out loud. He had been dreading their conversation, yet it was almost… fun - being the one with all of the information for once. "And, please, tell Carlos congratulations for me."
Blinking and nodding in feigned obedience, Arman smiled softly. "I know just how much that will mean to him, Hayak."
A&T
She wanted the fairytale.
As practical, suspicious, and even hard at times as life as an undocumented immigrant had made Fiona De La Rosa, she had somehow managed to maintain her ability to dream, to hope. Perhaps it was no longer The American Dream that she believed in, but she didn't give up and go back to the Philippines either. She stayed, and she sacrificed, but the one thing she wouldn't compromise was herself. Agreeing to a green card marriage meant accepting that she wouldn't marry for love.
Of all the things Arman's plan would force her to confront and accept - not just a marriage of convenience but also her life and her children's lives being turned upside down, Thony's lies of omission, Arman's role in Thony's life and her in his, why and how Luca was really still alive, and the threat of the FBI, the hardest part for Fiona was letting go of the fantasy. Granted, Thony's sister-in-law still didn't know everything . She knew that Arman was connected and that Thony cleaned for him, but Fi thought that meant housekeeping at the club and at his home, not helping him erase murders. After all, if there was no body, no weapon, and no blood, then there was no crime.
In the end, it was her son, Chris, who convinced Fiona to go along with the idea that she should marry Carlos. Arman wasn't privy to the details - and he didn't need or want to be, but Thony had confided in him that Chris was illegal, too - something Fiona, after fifteen years, had only just admitted to her family. Because of Thony, because of Isabel and Hayak, Arman had recently been recalling his own teenage years, giving him perhaps a little insight into what Chris' reaction might have been and what the mood inside of the De La Rosa residence had probably been like for everyone who lived there.
If he wasn't so relieved to know that, at his insistence, Thony had been off while he dealt with strongarming Hayak's guest list into gifting more generous wedding presents and that entire… unpleasantness with Councilman Burton, he might have felt guilty for subjecting her to days of teenage angst. Arman had justified giving her those vacation days by wanting her to spend some time with her son and help Fiona prepare for her upcoming nuptials. And the gesture had been sincere and genuine.
But as he had pushed Burton's head into the frying oil, getting his hands as visibly dirty as they already were metaphorically, his disgust for the Councilman not only fed his temper but also highlighted the real reason why Arman had not wanted Thony near him that week. He might have dressed up his actions with words like tradition , and showing appreciation , and generosity , but blackmail was blackmail, and a shakedown was a shakedown. He was no better than Charles Burton. In fact, he was worse. It had been this self-revelation that had prevented Arman from killing the Councilman… and just in time, too.
Arman wasn't sure which of those emotions he should feel over the fact that Thony wasn't able to attend her sister-in-law's civil ceremony: relief or guilt. Luca had been released from the clinic, but with Fiona getting married and her children needing to be in attendance at the wedding, shy of Arman hiring professional, home-nursing care for Luca (which he knew better than to even suggest… let alone offer), Thony stayed behind with her son - their friend, Gabby, taking her place figuratively next to Fiona. Because it wasn't that kind of wedding.
At Arman's insistence, they avoided the cliched Vegas elopement, eschewing the tacky chapels in favor of a local justice of the peace performing a simple, non-denominational ceremony in his office at the club. Afterwards, they would share what would no doubt be an awkward meal - one he had asked the chef to prepare in advance, and then he'd drive the kids home, while Carlos and Fiona went on a honeymoon she still knew nothing about.
He had changed - the elopement a far less elaborate affair than the Barsamian multi-day event, putting on something much more casual and comfortable than the tuxedo he had been wearing an hour earlier. The blinds to the kitchen were closed, but Arman had made no other move to make his office feel more appropriate for a wedding. As he waited for everyone else to arrive, he poured himself a drink, but the action was more habit than anything else - merely something to do with and then hold in his hands. By no means did Arman want to be the one marrying Fiona De La Rosa that afternoon, but he wasn't one to just sit back and watch others act out the plans he put into motion either.
Perhaps that was another reason why Hayak didn't see him as an equal.
Two curt knocks on the open doorway behind him had Arman turning around from where he had been sightlessly staring into the wine room. For a fleeting moment, he hoped that it was Thony… even when his mind knew she wouldn't be there and that she wouldn't have been so brash in announcing her presence. Hell, most of the time she didn't have to do anything to let him know she was near; he just… knew. "Can I talk to you for a minute," Fiona requested. He nodded once, which she seemed to take as an invitation to cross over the threshold. Without shutting the door behind her, she hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "Carlos is showing Gabby, Chris, and Jaz around. I hope that's okay. They've… we've never been to a place like this before."
He smiled softly, acknowledging her admission and granting unnecessary permission in the small gesture. "Sometimes, it all still astonishes me as well."
"So… you weren't always a part of this world?"
Arman swept his left arm towards the bar cart, silently offering Fiona a drink. She declined with a quick shake of her head. "No," he told her gently. Her question shed further light on what Thony had told her sister-in-law about him or, in this case, what she hadn't. "My father was a gardener, my mother a maid."
"Oh," Fiona breathed out, obviously surprised by his revelation. She didn't say anything, but the way she was looking at him made Arman feel like she was seeing far more than what he had actually shared.
Clearing his throat, he prompted her, "there was something you wanted to discuss with me?"
She took a deep, bracing breath before desperately asking, "is this all really necessary?"
Playing obtuse, Arman wondered, "you mean, the club? If you'd rather be married by an Elvis impersonator…"
"No," Fi cut him off, leveling him with a glare that made Arman smirk. Evidently, she understood that he had purposefully misconstrued her question. "I meant the wedding, the marriage…"
"... the adoption," he added, making her blanch further, though she neither responded nor added it to her list.
Instead, she just kept talking, "... and you know it."
Setting down his untouched scotch, Arman folded his arms over his chest and spoke succinctly, directly. "You and your son being undocumented makes Thony vulnerable to the FBI, and I won't allow that. I'm sorry that this is the solution, that you're unhappy with it, and that it makes you uncomfortable, but Carlos is a good man. He won't do anything to hurt you or your children, and he will respect you."
"Because you told him to… just like you told him that he has to marry me."
"You know," Arman quirked his brows back at Fiona in challenge. "You do Carlos a disservice." At her frown, he explained, "yes, this marriage was my idea, but I didn't hold a gun to his head and force him to agree to it. Just like you, just like Thony, and Luca, and me, Carlos is an immigrant, too. He came to this country wanting a better life for himself. He knows how difficult starting over like that is. We were lucky - Carlos and I. We had people and resources to help us. Now, with your family, we have the chance to return the favor."
Fiona's mouth twisted, and she hastily lifted a hand to wipe at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she fought her sudden emotions. "It's just… it's a lot," she confessed.
As they were already talking and Fi was already upset, he thought it best to just get everything out in the open between them then and there rather than wait for after the ceremony and dinner. "Well, hopefully the next few days will help you to better wrap your head around everything." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion - rightfully so. Before she could ask what he meant, Arman clarified, "while you and Carlos are away on your honeymoon."
"No, I can't," Fiona denied, shaking her head back and forth and moving further away from him. "I have work, and the kids, and Thony and Luca. It's not a good time for me, and we both know it's not that kind of marriage."
"But we want the Feds to think that it is that kind of marriage, and nothing says a green card wedding more than immediately returning to your normal, separate lives."
"Or, you know, marrying a stranger." That shocked a bark of laughter out of him, and Arman tipped his head in recognition. His amusement seemed to thaw Fiona slightly, and she tentatively asked, "if I agreed to this, where would we be going?"
"To L.A. More specifically, Santa Clarita."
Fiona was obviously insightful and quick on her feet - just like Thony… but in a different, more wary way. "And what's in Santa Clarita?"
"A car salesman named Joe."
"So… this is a work trip for Carlos?"
"He's multitasking," Arman hedged.
"But he'll be getting paid for it?"
Oh, he saw where this was going. "I'll pay you your normal rate for twelve hours every day that you're gone."
"Now that I'm getting married and on the path to citizenship, I can be a cocktail waitress," Fiona informed him of her plans. "By agreeing to go on this honeymoon, I won't be able to apply until we get back, so I think you should pay me that rate instead." Before he could agree, she continued, "oh! And I want you to lend us your red convertible for the trip as well."
Narrowing his eyes at her, for Arman highly doubted Thony paid any attention to the car he used to take her and Luca to Dr. Saroyan's clinic… let alone felt it was an important enough detail to share with her sister-in-law, he suspiciously queried, "how do you know about that?" Perhaps Carlos put her up to the idea, but that would mean that the two of them had actually shared more than the few uncomfortable words Arman himself had observed.
"Thony hasn't said much, but as soon as he knew it was alright to talk about you, Luca hasn't stopped."
For that piece of information alone, Arman was tempted to sign the car's title over to Fiona as a wedding present. She started to grin as soon as he nodded his agreement, but then he spoke while walking by her to find everyone else so that they could get started, and the grin bloomed into a wide, beaming smile. "Make sure you pack some scarves, Louise ."
A&T
He spotted the car almost immediately. If he wasn't so angry that the Fed was still watching Thony, he might have been amused by how obvious the government was. If on official business, then agents drove big, black, shiny SUVs… much like their criminal counterparts, only the FBI wasn't splurging on anything nearly as luxurious; if undercover or working a case without going through all of the proper channels first, then agents drove older, American-made sedans in some dusty, faded neutral. Arman wasn't sure which option stood out more, but he appreciated the incompetence and predictability nonetheless.
After parking and turning off his Cadillac, Arman first turned to look at Chris where he sat beside him in the passenger seat and then at Jaz through the rearview mirror. "Head on inside, guys, okay? And make sure you take the leftover food for your Aunt and Cousin. There's somebody I need to talk to, and then I'll be right behind you."
Chris shrugged and was the first to get out - either uncaring or unconcerned about whatever was important enough to delay Arman. Jaz, however, was more in tune with her surroundings, more aware of emotions beyond her own. She didn't even reach for her seatbelt latch. "Is everything okay, Mr. Morales?"
"It's Arman," he stressed before flashing her a small smile. "And, yeah, of course." Given their ages, Fiona and Thony had insisted that Chris and Jaz be told the truth about their mother's marriage of convenience. Knowing this, Arman admitted, "just a lingering pest problem. I'll take care of it, and then we'll see if we can't convince your Auntie T that we should have a HORSE tournament tonight."
Excited, Jaz couldn't scramble out of the car fast enough. "I'll get Luca to ask her. She can't say no to him."
"Good plan," he praised with a chuckle.
He waited until the girl was inside of the house before exiting his Caddy. Then, after slipping on a pair of sunglasses, he casually yet confidently - perhap even slightly arrogantly - strolled right down the driveway and directly towards Agent Garrett Miller. He half expected the Fed to start his car and drive off as soon as he realized Arman was approaching. Instead, the asshole had the audacity to roll his window down and fire the first shot. "Does your wife know you're here, Mr. Morales?"
It was not where he thought their conversation would start, but it certainly gave Arman the opening he needed to show that Miller wasn't the only one capable of making things personal or doing his research. "As a matter of fact, yes." Perhaps Nadia didn't know the specific street address, but Arman had mentioned to both her and Hayak that he would be helping with Chris and Jaz while Carlos and Fiona were on their honeymoon. That had been intentional. "I think the better question is whether or not your wife knows that you're here, Garrett. Oh, wait. I'm sorry," he said with absolutely no remorse. "She's your ex-wife ."
Miller shot up straight in his seat and reached for his handle, but it was too late; Arman was already impassively leaning against the driver's side door, using his weight to prevent the agent from stepping outside of the car. "What the hell do you know about my wife?!"
Ignoring the question, Arman continued breezily, "I mean, first you sleep with an informant, torpedoing your own marriage, and now you're harassing a young mother with a sick son, threatening and intimidating her."
Garrett scoffs. "Don't act like Thony is Mother Teresa. She's here illegally, and we both know it, not to mention whatever crimes she's committed for you!"
Removing his glasses so that there could be no misunderstanding the threat behind his seemingly benign words, Arman leaned further into the open window. "As far as you're concerned, it's Mrs. De La Rosa, and if you have questions about her immigration status, I suggest you contact her lawyer. Now, I know that Thony gave you her attorney's card when you stalked her down at the clinic, but if you lost it, don't worry. I'll be contacting them on Thony's behalf about this little incident here tonight, so I'm sure your boss, ASAC Russo, will be able to pass along their contact information just as soon as she finishes reaming your ass out or, better yet, firing you."
As he started to walk away, the creaking, unoiled hinges of the agent's car alerted Arman to Miller following him even before the Fed called out, "you might have Thony fooled, but I see you for what you really are, and I bet Fiona De La Rosa does, too."
Without stopping, Arman spun around and then continued walking towards the house but backwards. "I don't know," he shrugged, unconcerned. He hadn't planned on revealing that Fiona had gotten married, but he decided he wanted to watch the knowledge land rather than just imagining the Fed's reaction. "Why don't you ask her," he suggested. "But you'll have to wait until she gets back from her honeymoon. Should I have her call you, or are you going to add a second count of harassment to our charges against you?"
"I'm not going to let you get away with this!"
"With what," Arman challenged furiously - any feigned humor disappearing entirely. He froze suddenly and then stalked towards Garrett. Waving back towards the unmarked car, he ordered, "get the hell out of here! Now!"
Miller's gaze flickered over Arman's shoulder for a beat, then two, before he quickly backpedaled, climbing into his car and then pulling slowly away. Even though Arman knew what that look meant - that Thony was standing behind him, he didn't turn around to face her until the FBI agent was completely out of sight. He wasn't sure what he expected to find when he did finally confront her. Would she be angry with him for not just ignoring the Fed, would she be worried that Agent Miller was still lingering - the steps they had taken to protect her from the FBI not yet completely successful, or would she be distant and distrustful as had been the case when she previously witnessed his temper?
Thony might have been scowling, but it was teasing in nature, warm. "I think you forgot the leftover cake."
"What leftover cake," he threw back at her as he finished walking up the driveway. "Have you met your sister-in-law? I didn't even get a piece, and I was at the wedding."
"You went with the nine inch round, didn't you? Sorry," Thony winced in faux regret. "I should have warned you: if Fi's invited, always go with the full sheet cake option."
Arman shrugged, chuckled. "Next time."
"So, a HORSE tournament, huh," Thony changed the subject, folding her arms in front of her while she leaned against the open doorway. "Was it your idea or Jaz's to get Luca to ask me?"
Mimicking her pose, an act that brought them intimately close - Thony tipped her head back and Arman leaned down and further into her, he whispered, "I can't reveal all of my secrets to you, Thony."
She stunned him by letting go of herself to reach up and smooth several loose, fallen strands of his hair back. "Would you like to borrow a ponytail holder? I'd offer you some product, but I'm afraid I'm less of a girl than you." Before he could react - either laugh, or hold her close, or return the taunt, or even slide his hand into her own thick, lush locks and remove the elastic she was using, Thony continued, "because you'll never win if your hair is in your eyes the whole time. Jaz is super competitive. And talented."
"And you?"
Thony spun around on her heels and started sauntering away, an impish grin tossed over her shoulder. "Oh, I play dirty."
Arman pushed off of the jamb and closed the door behind him before following her. "Don't I know it."
