DeSantos Bros. Auto Body - Downtown Las Vistas
Nico shot straight up as the loud blast of a car horn echoed in the garage beyond his office and the sharp pain in his neck that resulted sent his hand up to soothe it with a tight massaging grip. The buzz of an air drill and lug nuts clinking on the ground a few seconds later confirmed his assumption that Carlos, his service manager, had arrived at work, it also explained the horn. Groggy and irritated, he slowly turned to look up at the clock on the wall. It was 8:25am. Somewhere between berating himself about his fight with Bianca and going over the week’s profit sheet, now a crumpled heap of papers on the floor, he had managed to doze off.
He peeled himself off the sticky leather couch, walked through the stifling haze that filled his office, and over to the window to confront the rouge air conditioning unit that had stopped working. A few knob turns and forceful whacks later the stubborn machine kicked on and he stood in front of it while his skin dried out enough for his shirt to come unglued from his body.
He caught the faint reflection of his face in the glass; heavily packed dark bags hung under his eyes, and his face was peppered with gritty stubble and stray particles from the couch cushions. He looked just as shitty as he felt but seeing the reflection of his disheveled appearance was better than the horrified expression his daughter had worn the night before. The one that was burned into his memory forever; the one that had said in no uncertain terms that he was the biggest disappointment she had ever seen; the one he feared he would never be able to change.
He jumped startled again when he felt a sudden vibration on his right thigh. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the offending object. The red flashing light on his cell phone reminded him of another beautiful face full of disappointment that had stared him down when he had explained himself the first time. He punched in his pass code to unlock the phone; six missed calls all from her, but no message.
Maybe she was worried, wanted to see how things went, or maybe she’d changed her mind, had some time to think about things, and wasn’t as understanding as she had been before. Maybe, as it was for his daughter, the truth was too much for her to handle and she wanted to cut her loses and bail. He couldn’t blame her if that was the case, but he wasn’t ready to deal with that either. He switched his phone off; if she wanted out she’d have to catch him first.
“What are you doing here so early?” Rook said as he entered the room and shut the door. Nico glanced at him before taking a seat at his desk. “Why the hell are you so late,” he challenged his brother. “I had to take Rider to school because the idiot missed the bus. What’s your problem anyway?” Rook stared at Nico and waited for a response that never came; but he didn’t really need one.
“Bianca’s still not talking to you? You should’ve told her the truth a long time ago.” Nico gave him a murderous glare but still said nothing. “She’s a kid, she’ll get over it. Just give her a week or two. That’s a lot of shit to dump on a person out of nowhere. Trust me, she’ll come around.” Rook paused before asking a question he knew he would probably regret. “What about your chick, how’d she handle the truth, or did you forget to tell her too?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her name out your mouth?! This has nothing to do with you so keep your mind on the shit you’re supposed to take care of. What’s going on with this deal with Lorenzo? You said he would have what I asked for a week ago. What’s taking so long?!” If Rook wanted to push his buttons he had no problem shoving right back. He didn’t need another ‘I told you so’ and he certainly didn’t need another person rubbing his nose in his mistakes. What he needed was some semblance of stability, control; two things he was fresh out of. Something had to stay in line, work out right, and if it wasn’t going to happen in his personal life he would make damn sure it would happen with his business.
Rook clenched his fist and took a breath trying to summon some patience for his brother’s attitude. “He’s having issues getting it through customs; I told you that last night . Everything will be straight in a day or two. Just relax!”
Disregarding him, Nico yanked open his desk drawer wrapped his finger around the cool steel handle of his gun and in one fluid motion hopped up from his seat and shoved it into the waist band of his pants. “I’ll relax when I get what I want. Lorenzo owes me and I’m tired of waiting.” He moved from behind the desk and pushed past Rook, flinging the door open with enough force to send it slamming into the concrete wall. Rook watched him storm out of the office only to return a few seconds later. He stared at Rook incredulously before barking out his order. “Let’s go!”
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Monacco Shipping Int'l Headquarters - Downtown Las Vistas
Isabella stood in the middle of her newly renovated office and peered out the window. The view was the same as it had been when she was a child visiting her father there; high up on top of the world, the cars and people below like ants. Thaddeus Carlyle and all of the tacky revisions he had made to her father’s office were gone leaving only her chic and modern aesthetic and her name on the door. This was all hers now, not her father’s, not Thad’s, just hers. The question was: how long would it stay that way?
She picked up one of the photo frames that adorned the credenza behind her desk and stared at it. It had been the first day of work at MSI for the young and naïve girl staring back at her; her smile tight and timid, hands clasped behind her back, a look of anxious reluctance in her eyes. She was a different person now than the girl in the photo, but somehow her reflection in the glass wasn’t too far off from that of her former self.
Her father’s expression couldn’t hide how proud he was of her that day; finally able to fit effortlessly into the mold he had so carefully chiseled out for her. Over the years she had watched that face change back and forth; giving and than withholding, dangling his approval over her head if any part of her slipped out of place. Right now she had his full confidence, but it was only a matter of time before some small infraction would prompt him to try and snatch it back. She wouldn’t let him get away with that again. He had put her in the driver’s seat and this time she had not intention of relinquishing the wheel.
She set the frame back down and grabbed the cell phone sitting next to it. No missed calls or messages. She hit redial for what seemed like the hundredth time only to be faced with the same computerized voicemail greeting she had hoped to get past. Again she hung up without leaving a message. “Nico where are you,” she said to the phone as if it had the answer. They hadn’t spoken since the night he told her about Bianca’s mother. That had been almost two days ago and since their reunion they had never gone that long without speaking.
His silence left her to assume that things were not going well, which didn’t surprise her. She was still trying to deal with the details of Nico’s revelation herself; she could only imagine how the truth was affecting his daughter. No matter what was going on she wanted to be there for him, but once again it seemed like he was shutting out.
Bianca’s plight reasonably brought up the questions she still had about her own mother, before and after her death. How could she have left her the way she did? Where was she now? Heaven? Hell? Somewhere in between? They were questions that she felt too ashamed to think let alone ask of someone who couldn’t even answer her. They were the main reason that, when she first came back to town, she had opted to have Lexie send a floral arrangement to the cemetery rather than make the trip herself. She still wasn’t ready and with everything else going on it was the last thing she could handle.
A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Ms. Monacco, Eden Prescott just called to cancel your lunch appointment. Her husband is not back from his business trip and she doesn’t have a sitter for her daughter.” “Thank you Chelsea.” She glanced at her watch; almost 12:30pm. “I’m going out for a while please remind me to call Eden when I get back and you can reach me on my cell if there are any urgent calls. I have some things to take care of.”
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Phoenix Heights, Downtown Las Vistas
Bianca gripped the rail on the seat in front of her, bracing for another jarring bump as the bus hit another pothole. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought the driver was doing it on purpose, but on this particular street the gaping holes were the rule rather than the exception. She squinted her eyes trying to make out the name of the street they were approaching: Sagebrush, she whispered to herself. Not the one she was looking for but if it meant getting off the raggedy diesel machine it would do. She pulled on the cord to her right to signal the driver to stop and hopped out of the seat before he even began to slow down. Her desire to exit the torture chamber seemed to be propelling her forward more the momentum of the bus.
Once again she found herself clinging precariously to a pasty metal bar as the bus screeched to a halt at the corner. The doors flew open drawing in the seething stench of burning oil and garbage. “You know where you’re going honey?” The driver’s gravely voice startled her as much as her first good look at exactly where she was. Trash littered the sidewalks like carpet, the grungy brick buildings that lined the street where packed so tightly together they nearly squeezed out the sunlight, and the group of disheveled looking men lining the wall of the one directly in front of her didn’t make things look any better. And while she knew the name and address of the place she was headed her surroundings quickly set her straight; she had no damn clue where she was going. She nodded absently to the driver before moving down the steps and onto the curb.
From what she saw on the map, the streets on this side of the city were in alphabetical order. It should only be two more blocks up to Quixote, she reasoned before definitively deciding on which way to go. If it came down to it she could always make her way to Rook’s place which was within a few blocks of the water tower that she could see in the distance. But that would be her last resort as it would require a damn good explanation of why she was on this side of the tracks and not in school where she belonged.
The reason wasn’t even completely clear to her in the first place but it was mostly fueled by the results of a web search on her mother’s name and the unrelenting curiosity that followed. The name Jenna Torres has brought up several pages of links that she had sifted through one by one connecting the few pieces of information her father had given her, coming up empty, eliminating duplicate entries and out right dead ends until she found an obituary listing in a news archive.
As awful as it looked, her mother had lived in this neighborhood all of her short life and her family was well known in the area, the article had said. She was a waitress at the diner around the corner from her house, the diner that her parents had owned, the diner that was still there on the corner of 8th Street and Quixote, the diner Bianca was on her way to now. She wanted to find out more about her mother, a lot more than what her father had revealed. The woman had given her life, she was a part of her, she had a right to know who she was and where she came from. That was as good a reason as any and it was as much of an explanation as anyone was going to get.
She covered the few blocks quickly and nearly passed her destination until the flickering red light of the OPEN sign caught her eye. If not for the sign and the movement of people inside, she would have written the place off as one of the many long abandoned buildings she had passed on her journey. The walls were covered in spray paint, as was the custom in this neighborhood, and the grounds surrounding the structure where poorly kept and strewn with trash. She looked up at the street sign on the corner. 8th and Quixote; this was definitely the right place. Well, it’s now or never, she thought to herself as she walked to the door.
Nico shot straight up as the loud blast of a car horn echoed in the garage beyond his office and the sharp pain in his neck that resulted sent his hand up to soothe it with a tight massaging grip. The buzz of an air drill and lug nuts clinking on the ground a few seconds later confirmed his assumption that Carlos, his service manager, had arrived at work, it also explained the horn. Groggy and irritated, he slowly turned to look up at the clock on the wall. It was 8:25am. Somewhere between berating himself about his fight with Bianca and going over the week’s profit sheet, now a crumpled heap of papers on the floor, he had managed to doze off.
He peeled himself off the sticky leather couch, walked through the stifling haze that filled his office, and over to the window to confront the rouge air conditioning unit that had stopped working. A few knob turns and forceful whacks later the stubborn machine kicked on and he stood in front of it while his skin dried out enough for his shirt to come unglued from his body.
He caught the faint reflection of his face in the glass; heavily packed dark bags hung under his eyes, and his face was peppered with gritty stubble and stray particles from the couch cushions. He looked just as shitty as he felt but seeing the reflection of his disheveled appearance was better than the horrified expression his daughter had worn the night before. The one that was burned into his memory forever; the one that had said in no uncertain terms that he was the biggest disappointment she had ever seen; the one he feared he would never be able to change.
He jumped startled again when he felt a sudden vibration on his right thigh. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the offending object. The red flashing light on his cell phone reminded him of another beautiful face full of disappointment that had stared him down when he had explained himself the first time. He punched in his pass code to unlock the phone; six missed calls all from her, but no message.
Maybe she was worried, wanted to see how things went, or maybe she’d changed her mind, had some time to think about things, and wasn’t as understanding as she had been before. Maybe, as it was for his daughter, the truth was too much for her to handle and she wanted to cut her loses and bail. He couldn’t blame her if that was the case, but he wasn’t ready to deal with that either. He switched his phone off; if she wanted out she’d have to catch him first.
“What are you doing here so early?” Rook said as he entered the room and shut the door. Nico glanced at him before taking a seat at his desk. “Why the hell are you so late,” he challenged his brother. “I had to take Rider to school because the idiot missed the bus. What’s your problem anyway?” Rook stared at Nico and waited for a response that never came; but he didn’t really need one.
“Bianca’s still not talking to you? You should’ve told her the truth a long time ago.” Nico gave him a murderous glare but still said nothing. “She’s a kid, she’ll get over it. Just give her a week or two. That’s a lot of shit to dump on a person out of nowhere. Trust me, she’ll come around.” Rook paused before asking a question he knew he would probably regret. “What about your chick, how’d she handle the truth, or did you forget to tell her too?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her name out your mouth?! This has nothing to do with you so keep your mind on the shit you’re supposed to take care of. What’s going on with this deal with Lorenzo? You said he would have what I asked for a week ago. What’s taking so long?!” If Rook wanted to push his buttons he had no problem shoving right back. He didn’t need another ‘I told you so’ and he certainly didn’t need another person rubbing his nose in his mistakes. What he needed was some semblance of stability, control; two things he was fresh out of. Something had to stay in line, work out right, and if it wasn’t going to happen in his personal life he would make damn sure it would happen with his business.
Rook clenched his fist and took a breath trying to summon some patience for his brother’s attitude. “He’s having issues getting it through customs; I told you that last night . Everything will be straight in a day or two. Just relax!”
Disregarding him, Nico yanked open his desk drawer wrapped his finger around the cool steel handle of his gun and in one fluid motion hopped up from his seat and shoved it into the waist band of his pants. “I’ll relax when I get what I want. Lorenzo owes me and I’m tired of waiting.” He moved from behind the desk and pushed past Rook, flinging the door open with enough force to send it slamming into the concrete wall. Rook watched him storm out of the office only to return a few seconds later. He stared at Rook incredulously before barking out his order. “Let’s go!”
*************************************************
Monacco Shipping Int'l Headquarters - Downtown Las Vistas
Isabella stood in the middle of her newly renovated office and peered out the window. The view was the same as it had been when she was a child visiting her father there; high up on top of the world, the cars and people below like ants. Thaddeus Carlyle and all of the tacky revisions he had made to her father’s office were gone leaving only her chic and modern aesthetic and her name on the door. This was all hers now, not her father’s, not Thad’s, just hers. The question was: how long would it stay that way?
She picked up one of the photo frames that adorned the credenza behind her desk and stared at it. It had been the first day of work at MSI for the young and naïve girl staring back at her; her smile tight and timid, hands clasped behind her back, a look of anxious reluctance in her eyes. She was a different person now than the girl in the photo, but somehow her reflection in the glass wasn’t too far off from that of her former self.
Her father’s expression couldn’t hide how proud he was of her that day; finally able to fit effortlessly into the mold he had so carefully chiseled out for her. Over the years she had watched that face change back and forth; giving and than withholding, dangling his approval over her head if any part of her slipped out of place. Right now she had his full confidence, but it was only a matter of time before some small infraction would prompt him to try and snatch it back. She wouldn’t let him get away with that again. He had put her in the driver’s seat and this time she had not intention of relinquishing the wheel.
She set the frame back down and grabbed the cell phone sitting next to it. No missed calls or messages. She hit redial for what seemed like the hundredth time only to be faced with the same computerized voicemail greeting she had hoped to get past. Again she hung up without leaving a message. “Nico where are you,” she said to the phone as if it had the answer. They hadn’t spoken since the night he told her about Bianca’s mother. That had been almost two days ago and since their reunion they had never gone that long without speaking.
His silence left her to assume that things were not going well, which didn’t surprise her. She was still trying to deal with the details of Nico’s revelation herself; she could only imagine how the truth was affecting his daughter. No matter what was going on she wanted to be there for him, but once again it seemed like he was shutting out.
Bianca’s plight reasonably brought up the questions she still had about her own mother, before and after her death. How could she have left her the way she did? Where was she now? Heaven? Hell? Somewhere in between? They were questions that she felt too ashamed to think let alone ask of someone who couldn’t even answer her. They were the main reason that, when she first came back to town, she had opted to have Lexie send a floral arrangement to the cemetery rather than make the trip herself. She still wasn’t ready and with everything else going on it was the last thing she could handle.
A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Ms. Monacco, Eden Prescott just called to cancel your lunch appointment. Her husband is not back from his business trip and she doesn’t have a sitter for her daughter.” “Thank you Chelsea.” She glanced at her watch; almost 12:30pm. “I’m going out for a while please remind me to call Eden when I get back and you can reach me on my cell if there are any urgent calls. I have some things to take care of.”
**************************************************
Phoenix Heights, Downtown Las Vistas
Bianca gripped the rail on the seat in front of her, bracing for another jarring bump as the bus hit another pothole. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought the driver was doing it on purpose, but on this particular street the gaping holes were the rule rather than the exception. She squinted her eyes trying to make out the name of the street they were approaching: Sagebrush, she whispered to herself. Not the one she was looking for but if it meant getting off the raggedy diesel machine it would do. She pulled on the cord to her right to signal the driver to stop and hopped out of the seat before he even began to slow down. Her desire to exit the torture chamber seemed to be propelling her forward more the momentum of the bus.
Once again she found herself clinging precariously to a pasty metal bar as the bus screeched to a halt at the corner. The doors flew open drawing in the seething stench of burning oil and garbage. “You know where you’re going honey?” The driver’s gravely voice startled her as much as her first good look at exactly where she was. Trash littered the sidewalks like carpet, the grungy brick buildings that lined the street where packed so tightly together they nearly squeezed out the sunlight, and the group of disheveled looking men lining the wall of the one directly in front of her didn’t make things look any better. And while she knew the name and address of the place she was headed her surroundings quickly set her straight; she had no damn clue where she was going. She nodded absently to the driver before moving down the steps and onto the curb.
From what she saw on the map, the streets on this side of the city were in alphabetical order. It should only be two more blocks up to Quixote, she reasoned before definitively deciding on which way to go. If it came down to it she could always make her way to Rook’s place which was within a few blocks of the water tower that she could see in the distance. But that would be her last resort as it would require a damn good explanation of why she was on this side of the tracks and not in school where she belonged.
The reason wasn’t even completely clear to her in the first place but it was mostly fueled by the results of a web search on her mother’s name and the unrelenting curiosity that followed. The name Jenna Torres has brought up several pages of links that she had sifted through one by one connecting the few pieces of information her father had given her, coming up empty, eliminating duplicate entries and out right dead ends until she found an obituary listing in a news archive.
As awful as it looked, her mother had lived in this neighborhood all of her short life and her family was well known in the area, the article had said. She was a waitress at the diner around the corner from her house, the diner that her parents had owned, the diner that was still there on the corner of 8th Street and Quixote, the diner Bianca was on her way to now. She wanted to find out more about her mother, a lot more than what her father had revealed. The woman had given her life, she was a part of her, she had a right to know who she was and where she came from. That was as good a reason as any and it was as much of an explanation as anyone was going to get.
She covered the few blocks quickly and nearly passed her destination until the flickering red light of the OPEN sign caught her eye. If not for the sign and the movement of people inside, she would have written the place off as one of the many long abandoned buildings she had passed on her journey. The walls were covered in spray paint, as was the custom in this neighborhood, and the grounds surrounding the structure where poorly kept and strewn with trash. She looked up at the street sign on the corner. 8th and Quixote; this was definitely the right place. Well, it’s now or never, she thought to herself as she walked to the door.
Hooo boy. Bianca certainly doesn't know who she's dealing with here.
ReplyDeleteHere's hoping Isabella and Nico can get past this. It was a misunderstanding, and it's only affecting their relationship because they're letting it--it's not a fundamental problem between the two of them, they can get past it if they decide they actually want to.
Glad to see that this story is back :)
Isabella's relationship with Nico...always thought it was packaged with so much trouble, and they come from such different places. A lot of heat there but hardly any light.
ReplyDeletePoor little Bianca, walking right into huge trouble. Of course she wants to know the truth. This is not the best way to go about getting it, but she hasn't been given much in the way of options.
Gorgeous lush incredible shots and the writing just purrs and crackles! Very glad to see this story back!!
Hi Van, I'm really glad to be back too. Bianca is definately walking into a lion's den, she just has no idea that there is a lion in there to begin with. She's curious about her mother and her father has proven to be little help in satisfying that curiousity so she's on her own unfortunately.
ReplyDeleteIn theory, Issy and Nico could make things work. She's trying to get past her feelings about Bianca's conception and she wants to, but there are still a lot of things against them. Both of them really will have to want it to make things right.
Thank you.
Beth, I think that's a very spot on description of Issy and Nico. They could burn a house down with the passion between them, but then they're only left with a burnt up house. The odds are against them on all sides and they're going to be forced to fight for what they have if they want to keep it.
ReplyDeleteNico has left Bianca no options. He thought it would be over when he finally told her the truth, but clearly he was wrong. Hopefully Bianca won't get into too much trouble here, but I doubt that.
Thank you.
Nico and Issy... I just need them to get it together. Typical of a man to see missed calls and NOT call back when you're trying to fix things!
ReplyDeleteI understand Bianca's need to figure out who she is through her mother and her mother's life but what if it isn't peaches n cream? What if it hurts more than the truth she'd finally heard from Nico? I hope she doesn't end up in trouble!
Great update! Your shots are beautiful!
Nico and Isabella's relation needs to have an open line of communications! Nico!! You can't shut off the phone! What's wrong with you man? And you sure can't be reckless because you're upset. You have a daughter at home that you need to worry about as well.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of his daughter...WHAT THE HECK IS SHE DOING???
She really doesn't need to be walking alone anywhere. She's completely oblivious to what goes on outside her safe little world. Especially with Cross being in the picture(that man is so fine!).
Loved your sets and so very glad to see you back!!
First off, it is great to see you back! Now for the story...that last shot...nothing good is going to come from this. Biana has no idea what she may have walked into although it isn't surprising. She is a willful, stubborn girl who needs to know her mother and her roots.
ReplyDeleteAs for Nico, he should know by now that running and hiding is not going to help. He is jumping to conclusions about Issy that he should not be doing. I hope they can find their way back.
Beautiful writing, gorgeous shots, amazing setup of poses! Everything was so natural. Great job and welcome back!
Thank you Qui! Nico is definately being such a "man." He's scared that Issy doesn't want him anymore and you know men always think a little time will make us "forget" things.
ReplyDeleteBianca's looking for answers but is only finding trouble here, especially if she and Cross make contact. But her father as given her no choice, again being a man and witholding things. Hopefully she won't pay for that mistake.
Thank you so much about the shots. Really hard to get some of them; glad to know they came out well.
Phoenix, maybe I need you to get in there and slap some sense into Nico, LOL! He's being such a man. "If I don't answer the phone maybe it will all go away" NOT! He gets antsy when he's not in control; can't handle it clearly.
ReplyDeleteBianca doesn't know what she's doing, she just knows she wants answers. Cross could actually give her some (or at least his version) but she doesn't know that or him for that matter. Just simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hopefully nothing bad will happen...but what fun would that be. Hehe.
Thank you!!
Gayl thank you so much, it is really great to be back doing this and I'm so glad you like it. It's been hard getting back on track but the time was worth it.
ReplyDeleteYou are right, nothing good will come of this situation and Cross is getting a part of what he wants dumped right in his lap here. Will he act on that?? We'll have to see.
Nico hasn't learned a thing and his actions (or lack there of) have set something really dangerous in motion and he has no clue. As hard as he's trying to keep control it keep slipping through his fingers. His daughter might be paying the price this time though.
Thank you so much, again.
Oh Bianca... I think the only thing she will find there is trouble! But I do understand she needs to know more about her mother... but that's not the way... is it?
ReplyDeleteHopefully Nico and Isabella will get a chance to talk soon, before anything else happens...seems like Nico is really reckless right now... I hope he will be safe... of course praying Bianca will make it home safe too!