Fashion Kills, Chapter 4

Chapter 4

POV of Asher

I roll in the burger joint late. I tell Diamonte to meet me here. It’s weird seeing Diamonte just sitting at Matty’s burgers and fries. In the fashion world he was a living god, but normal people didn’t know who Diamonte was. He’s just a guy sitting around in a blazer that looks like it’s worth over a 1000 dollars.

“You’re late.”

I honestly expected Diamonte to be late. I kind of figured it would be lame to show up on a date on time so I took my time. That and I couldn’t figure out what to wear. How the fuck do you impress a guy who owns his own fashion house? He looks me up and down. He makes a face. It makes me nervous that I can’t tell with this guy. I’m not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing. I dress plain because all my shit is basic as fuck. Some jeans, a blazer and a gray t-shirt underneath. I borrowed these shoes from Sebastian.

“Did you come on time?” I ask him.
He looks at his watch, “I’m never late. You don’t start a 500 million dollar company being late. Time is money. And I’m taking it your check.”

Diamonte has been paying me 65k a year to basically sit at a desk outside of his office and do stupid nonsensical errands for him. The things he requested sometimes were weird as hell. His main assistant Neverland wasn’t really much of a talker so I was mostly bored. I’m not complaining. I never made that kind money.

“Are you seri—” I stop myself realizing I can’t have this date kick off on a bad foot, “You know what. I apologize.”

“I don’t need apologies. I need results.”

“Diamonte,” I stop him taking a deep breath, “This isn’t a business meeting. This is a date.”

I don’t know if Diamonte can tell the difference honestly. I’ve never been with a man so ambitious before. Most of the guys I dated were more interested in if I’d fuck their brains out that night. Everything was different now. Maybe that’s why I’m so nervous.

Diamonte isn’t impressed, “I know what this is.”

He’s upset. I have to admit he’s kind of cute when he’s upset. He isn’t pouting or anything. I doubt Diamonte Rose pouts. He’s sitting there with a stone face. I definitely fucked up. The thing about it though is that Diamonte stayed. As busy as he was and as angry as he was, he stayed. I’m not going to bring it up to him but that gives me a little bit of confidence.
“Have you ever been here?” I ask.

He sighs, “No. Asher. I have not been here.”

He sounds annoyed.

“My dad used to bring me here all the time when we were kids,” I explain to him, “Every saturday. One night we were walking home from the burger place and some guys mugged us. They shot him. Right in front of me, robbed him and took off. Ever since then I came to this burger place…every Saturday alone. When I first met you I figured I’d bring you here…since it means so much to me…”

That had to be enough to let his guard down.

Diamonte looks at me. Stone face.

Then folds his napkin, throws some cash on the table, gets up and proceeds to leave.

I find myself chasing after him.

“Woah—where you going?”

“You’re wasting my fucking time with these sob stories,” Diamonte responds.

“Sob story. I was opening up to you.”

Diamonte rolls his eyes, “Your father is in rehab in Watts. He’s addicted to cocaine but finally checked himself in when he started doing bath salts. Shit got serious I guess. He ended up butt naked and high in a strange man’s house with a wet ass. Your mother is a stay at home cat lady who collects coupons and thrift shops frantically three times a week.”

Fuck. The story had sounded good.

Then it becomes clear all of a sudden.
“You did a background check on me?” he asks.
He rolls his eyes, “Don’t change the subject. Why the fuck are you lying to me?”

“Sit. Please.”

He looks at me. I feel beyond stupid right now. My face is blushing red. Why the fuck did I tell him that story? Diamonte is not amused. I’m giving him puppy dog eyes times a million right now. I can’t believe I fucked up this date twice already without even trying. Diamonte seems like he’s on the edge of leaving but he goes down and sits back at the table.
“If you waste my time again, I’m leaving,” he responds.
“I’m sorry. Listen. I don’t know why I tell that story. I guess I want to impress you. This place isn’t special. Honestly I brought you here because it’s all I can afford. It was easier to make up some bullshit ass story than to make up an excuse about why I can’t take you somewhere fancy.”

“If I wanted to go somewhere fancy would I have said yes to go on a date with,” he looks me up and down, “You?”

“Why did you say yes?”

I’m curious. I’m beyond curious.

He shrugs, “I’m trying to figure that out myself.”

There is a few moments that pass. The waiter comes to the table. He asks us what we want to drink. Diamonte gets a water so I get one too. The waiter looks at me for a minute. Fuck. I know this guy. He gave me head a few weeks ago and I never called him back. I can tell by his elongated stair that the waiter probably feels so type of way. He’s cute, real cute but like everyone…I got bored.
I try not to look at him too long and stare back at Diamonte.
“So where are you from?” I ask.

Diamonte shrugs, “I don’t talk about my past.”

A minute awkward. I swear he is going to say something else but…he doesn’t. He just shuts me the fuck down and stares blankly at me as though telling me to ‘try again’.

I sigh for a second, “What do you like to do for fun?”

He rolls his eyes, “Jesus Christ. What do I do for fun? Do these little boys really like when you ask them shit like that?”

“I-uh—”

“Can you not be so cliché? You’re going to have to try a little harder with a guy like me.”

“Uh…”

“C`mon. Get my interest, Asher. You can do it,” he responds at that moment, “Don’t doubt yourself. Spark my interest. Go deeper.

Yes. This is very awkward. I was sitting across from a man who was literally coaching me on how to date him. Diamonte is looking at me and I have to admit I’m not bored. I am so beyond stumped on how to catch Diamonte Rose’s attention.
“Do you want kids?” I ask.
“I have a kid every year. It’s called the Fall Bautista and Rose collection. Keep trying. Go even deeper…”

“What motivates you?” I ask.

He smiles, “Better. Completion motivates me. Having that one thought that translates into a design and completing it. I’m not talking about having the hems done or adding an additional shoe. No there’s something deeper to completing something for me. Completion means all your heard work has paid off. You can sit back at the end of your life and you can die knowing…yes…I’ve done what I was put on this Earth to do. I’m ready. I can die now. It’s complete…”

He talks on about his motivations and for the most part I’m listening. There is something so complex about Diamonte’s mind set and I don’t know why I’m so enchanted. Some of the things that he says goes way over my head and even when I ask him to explain what he means by it I still don’t fully get it. However he’s like a mad genius. I think at some point I will get it.

An hour passes. Diamonte isn’t so proper as I think he is. He eats with his hands and seems a little sloppy. The burger grease drips down his chin as he talks about his dream, his plans and his ambition. This is what means something to him. This is what means everything to him.

I find myself leaning over the table using my thumb to wipe the grease from the sides of his mouth.

Diamonte lets me.

He stares at me after that.

“What are your goals out of life?” he asks me.

In the hour I spent so much time enjoying listening to him talk that I hadn’t even thought he was going to ask me a question back. He’s staring at me deep in my eyes. Why the fuck is my heart racing fast when he does it? Guys don’t really make me nervous.

“I kind of just want to be a famous model,” I explain.

“Fame is disease.”

“What? You’re famous,” I respond.
He rolls his eyes, “No I’m not famous. I am accomplished. With accomplishment comes a sense of recognition, but I’m not famous. I dress people who are famous. They live their lives in front of the camera. The fame spreads to everyone who is around them. No privacy. They lose who they really are to please the camera It kills them slowly from the inside out. It’s a disease.”

I sigh, “Shit now that you say it like that maybe I don’t want to be famous.”

He smiles, “You can do whatever you put your mind to. I can help you.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You’d help me.”

“If fame is what you want I can make it happen. Follow me. I know the way.”

I laugh, “Why do you say things like that?”

“Like what?”

I shrug staring at him, “I dunno. Like…I need help. We’re not that much different you know? We both have our problems. We have things in common.”

“Like what?”

“Like we both don’t believe in love…”

I don’t know why it comes out. It’s just a random thing that comes out and I want to take it back when I see Diamonte’s expression. He stares at me at me blankly.

“Why would you say something like that?” Diamonte asks.

He’s not amused. He looks…hurt actually.

“I mean I just gave up on it. And with you. You married for money. Clearly you don’t seem to give a damn that your husband is dead…”

“Just because I didn’t love him you assume I don’t believe in love?” Diamonte asks me, raising his voice a little bit.

“Listen I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Diamonte shakes his head, “Just because you go around fucking every man with that you consider to be higher than an 8—-including our waiter who clearly recognizes you—-doesn’t mean we are alike. I did what I had to do. The men I married knew what it was from the beginning. I never lead anyone on. I never lied. Sure I needed the money but I was the one with the talent. I built the empire. It was my vision. It was their investment. I’m not a business man. I’m a business. But don’t get it fucked up…I’m still a human being.”

Is Diamonte getting emotional?

There is an anger in his eyes. There is a vulnerability that I haven’t seen before. I fucked. I definitely fucked up.

I’m struggling right now, “Diamonte—”
“I’m not the person you think I am. I told you what means the most to me. Completion. You think I want to leave this world and not have someone that I love? Ever. You think I’d feel complete at the end of the day?”

“Listen I’m sorry.”

He stares at me for a second. He gets up off the table, “I told you I don’t need apologies. I need results. Have a good night.”

POV of Diamonte Rose

I walk to work. A week has passed since the date I had with Asher. It went horribly like I thought it would. As I walk into the office he lifts his head up. I hate that I keep noticing how handsome he is. I look straight and notice his eyes following me. He’s not trying to hide it. He does it every single morning. The desk next to his is Neverland and she quickly scurries up to her feet when I walk into the office.
“What is it…” I ask.
I sit at my desk. My table is pressed with paper work. I still haven’t replaced the Balooga whale and all this finance paper work is really setting me back a little bit.

“Detective Brody is sniffing around. He’s been attempting to interview people in the office.”

I had over a hundred people working for me. I stare up at Neverland. She has my attention.

“About?”

“Sir…your head husband.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh yeah. That. Is that still a thing?”

“Detective Brody seems to think so. I’ve sent out an email letting all employees know that no one is to speak with the Detective.”

“Good. Make sure Asher gets the memo.”

“Sir, may I?”

I’m annoyed.

“You already have your mouth open, you might as well say it.”

“Why don’t you just say what happened,” she explains at that moment, “Throw Asher under the bus. He killed Alexander. Whether it was passion or it wasn’t…”

I roll my eyes, “He says he didn’t…”

“And you believe him?”

I shouldn’t. I don’t know why I’m protecting this guy. I feel weak and the look on my assistant’s face feels like she may not trust my decisions when it comes to Asher. She’s right. Detective Brody is sniffing around. I could easily just say what happened that night and leave it up to Asher to defend himself. He isn’t the most clever guy in the world and it’s no doubt he wouldn’t have much of a leg to stand on. I should just throw him under the bus. So why am I hesitating?

Why am I acting soft?
There is a knock on the door luckily and Neverland stops grilling me to go answer it. She opens it. Remus walks into the office. He has on an expensive suit looking like some type of sexy ass James Bond. Neverland’s eyes light up when she sees him. A lot of girls light up when they see Remus. His tan brown skin, his chiseled jawline and his polished but sophisticated look makes him that ideal man that most women grow up thinking they will marry one day.

“Excuse me,” Neverland excuses herself like a little school girl with a crush at that moment.

She leaves the room and Remus is standing there.

“What’s up with the hottie?”

“She’s not the first model I’ve employed,” I tell Remus as he walks into the office, “You’ve been around long enough to know that I hope.”

He grunts as he makes his way to my desk and stands up at the desk, “No. I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the boy outside. Guess my brother really is gone if you’re having sexy guys around here.”

He’s talking about Asher. I have to clear my mind of Asher. It’s not a good look.

“But your brother is gone.”

“And the first guy your with is a chinky-eyed Adonis yo? Really?” he explains raising an eyebrow, “Should I be worried?”

Remus is close. He’s real close. He’s licking his lips right now. I knew Remus always had a crush on me. What I didn’t expect was for him to act on it so fast after his brother was out of the picture. Remus is standing on the edge of my desk now. His is glaring at me undressing me with his eyes. He looks like he wants to bend me over this desk right now and the way his body tenses up I swear he’s about to do it.

“Shouldn’t you be sad? I mean your brother is dead.”

Remus shrugs a little bit, “Shit happens, right?”

“Shit happens.”

“Did you do it?”

The question is glaring. Remus is staring me down wondering it. I know they were never close but I still thought Remus would care a little bit more. I figured he wouldn’t be Alessa going off and blaming me for it, but I did think he would at least be cheering her on.

I squint at Remus challenging him at that moment, “I think you licking your lips at me and coming in here grilling me is below your god damn questions is unprofessional. I am your boss now, you know?”

Remus raises and eyebrow, “And you fired my sister. Am I next?”

I shrug, “Depends. How far along are you with my collection?”

Remus laughs, “Your about your business. I expect nothing less. All work and no pleasure. Fine. I came to request a few extra hands with the line.”

“Hire who you need.”

“How about that boy out there.”

Remus looks at me and then looks at the door. My heart is ringing at that moment. Remus is licking his lips again. I know why he’s doing this. He’s doing this to get even with me. He’s doing this because I turned him down.

“He doesn’t know how to sew,” I say.

Remus raises an eyebrow, “I’ll teach him how to cut patterns.”

“Remus stop playing these games,” I tell him.

Remus walks across the desk at that moment. He grabs me up off my chair throws me on top of the desk and stands over me. He parts my legs with his body. He’s so aggressive. NO one has ever been this aggressive with me in life. I was pretty sure they were all scared to. Even my husbands. Feeling Remus manhandle me like this is lowkey turning me on.

He is inches away from my mouth, “You stop playing with me.”

I push him hard.
I straighten my outfit at that moment, “You can’t have him. He’s not yours…”

That’s when Remus is laughing.
“Wait. He means something to you,” Remus laughs, “The Shade King, the Evil Dictator, the Workplace Maniac has something that means something to him? I never thought I’d see the day…no wonder you all of a sudden aren’t even turned on by me.”

Remus is glaring at me. It’s almost like he sees weakness lined all over me.
“He doesn’t mean shit.”

“Prove it.”

I grab Remus at that moment. I am kissing him. My tongue jams down how throat. Remus battles me to regain control. When I struggle back he uses all his man power to lift me clear up off of my feet. He wraps me around his waist at that moment. He’s kissing me. His tongues in my mouth and it tastes so good.
When he drops me, he places me on all fours on my desk, throwing off all the papers. He takes off my pants almost immediately.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to taste you again,” Remus tells me.

He doesn’t hesitate to remove my clothing. The pants are lowered and then then underwear. He slaps me hard on the ass. My ass vibrates from the force. I moan as he forcefully separates my ass cheeks and shoves his tongue in my ass.

He’s eating me out and it feels beyond good. I can feel my body shaking while Remus’s long tongue is forcing it’s way into me. He licks the rims of my ass, clears into my bowels and uses his palms to squeeze at my cheeks.
His tongue vibrates steadily.
I can’t take it and he knows this. I’m moaning loudly. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs.
“Oh god! OH GOD! OH!”

I forget where I am until the fucking doors fling open! My mouth drops when I see Asher run into my fucking office. This idiot thinks he’s fucking superman. When he runs in and sees what’s happening he doesn’t even turn away. He just stares.
“Do you know who the fuck this is?” Remus asks him at that moment, “You just run into someone’s office without asking.”

Remus being forceful like this is a surprise. He’s usually been the nice, laid back Bautista clearly always eclipsed by the strong personality of his sister and the success of his brother. I have to admit he sounds authoritative. I can believe it…even though the sides his mouth are glistening with his own saliva like he was Alessa watching an episode of Masterchef.

Asher doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at Remus. He’s staring at me when he says, “I thought you were hurt. Neverland was away from her desk…I thought you were in trouble?”

“So who are you Clark Kent?” Remus asks him, “You’re interrupting something. You can show yourself out.”

Asher looks over at me, “Is that what you want? You want me to leave.”

My heart is beating. Asher’s eyes have something in them that scares the fuck out of me. He cares. What’s even scarier is that I’m sitting here caring about what Asher thought about me. He looks disappointed right now and maybe hopeful. Maybe there are a bunch of other things in his eyes that I can’t figure out. I’m just staring back hoping that it would start making sense. I remain silent, get off the table and pull my pants up. When I do it’s clear Remus lost his shot and he’s giving Asher the craziest look I ever saw.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Remus wipes his mouth before crossing to the room, “Where do you find these small brained pretty boys from.”

“Bruh, I don’t give a fuck that you’re mad I’m cock blocking right now,” Asher explains, “You probably don’t even know what the fuck you’re doing back there.”

Asher mocking Remus is something that I don’t expect even more. If Asher knows who I am then he has to know that Remus is Alexander’s brother. Remus is a Bautista.

Remus looks over at me, “And you’d do better?”

Asher doesn’t skip a beat, “You had him moaning a little bit like he stubbed his toe. I would have made Diamonte scream so loud you’d think Isis infiltrated the building. He would have been going crazy if someone interrupted us because he would have been having the time of his life. He wouldn’t be standing across the room with a look of disappointment that he allowed himself to have a moment of weakness—like he is now. Right now it’d be pure ecstacy on Diamonte’s face. Not regret.”

I can’t help but to raise an eyebrow of interest! My mouth kind of drops open at that moment when Asher says what he says. He isn’t backing down from Remus Bautista and I have to admit it is the biggest turn on. Asher has me stunned and he has Remus Bautista fuming. Remus is standing there looking at me and him at that moment. He’s giving me the shadiest look I’d ever seen.

“You let this little punk talk to me like that?” Remus asks me.

I sit back at my desk, “You’re a grown man Remus. Your brother isn’t here to defend you anymore and I’m definitely not here to defend you. Asher’s right. It was a mistake. I’m far too busy. I need to get back to work…if you can see yourself out.”

“Diamonte…” Remus states.
He’s shocked. Asher doesn’t hesitate to walk to the door at that moment. He walks to the door and he opens it for Remus to walk out. Remus gives Asher a look, he gives me a look and then he walks out of the room at that moment.

Asher is standing there with a triumphant smirk on his face when Remus walks out of the room like he just won some heavyweight title.

“For a moment you had me worried,” Asher says.

I raise my head, “What?”

That’s when Asher takes off his shirt. I swear looking at him without a shirt on almost makes me lose my breath. Asher’s washboard abs are something serious. His small waist is amazing. His huge pectoral muscles are stiff and full. He starts walking towards me with that sexy golden skin and throws his shirt on the floor.

“I know what you were doing. You were trying to make me jealous,” Asher explains before adding a confident and egotistical, “It worked.”

He is so cocky. He thinks he’s god gift to man.

Fuck…maybe he is.

I just can’t let him know it.

“You got me confused,” I stop him in his tracks, “Is my name Brian? John? Dante? Rio? Shawn?”

“Who?” he asks, “I don’t even know those names.”

“Exactly. Who cares who they are? I’m not one of your fans Asher. Them abs are dope. Your face is perfect. There are so many random boys who would kill to just be able to touch you. I’m not one of those boys. It takes more with me.”

Asher is confused. I don’t think anyone has ever really turned him down—especially not with his shirt on. He looks down at his body as though wondering if I didn’t see what he saw. He literally had the best body I’d ever seen in my life and we both knew it.

“You sure you don’t want this?”

He’s puzzled. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Being attractive is all that’s mattered to him. It’s all that’s counted.
“You are going to be reassigned to work for Remus for a week. If you don’t know who Remus is…he’s the guy that you just cussed out. He needs an assistant.”

“You’re joking.”

“You couldn’t afford for me to tell a joke,” I respond.

“Diamonte—”

“You’re still here.”

It’s not a question.

I watch as he turns and leaves.
I spend the rest of the day getting some work done and by the time the day ends I am walking out. I turn to where Neverland was sitting. She looks up at me.

“Leaving sir?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Sir..”

“What is it Neverland?”

“What I said earlier…about the boy,” she starts off, “I can make it happen. They found finger prints at your home. One anonymous tip off and we can place Asher at the scene of the crime. This headache goes away…just like that.”

I think about it for a minute. Neverland has a point. She is looking at me as though she almost wants to do it. I wonder why. Neverland did bury Alexander. She had her own motivations. This girl wasn’t a pushover. I had no doubt she had done some shady shit to even get so far up the totem pole but this motivation that she has now. Is she worried she might get caught up in this if Asher doesn’t take the fall.

Should I be worried about the same thing?

“No,” I tell her.

She nods, “Goodnight sir.”

She looks at me differently when I leave the office and I can’t help but to think about the stare Neverland gives me. It was a look of doubt. I wasn’t used to that look. With all my assistants there was this fear. Deep inside I didn’t want people to be afraid of me. That’s not what I was about. However sometimes that’s the best way.

Fear had a point of making people respect you.

When people respected you they got things done.

But the thing about people being afraid of you is that it empties you. I look around my condo right now as I’m home. I’m alone. My dead husband’s memory is the only thing left of this house. I look at my phone.

I don’t want to be alone.

I don’t want Asher to be afraid of me.

Why the fuck was I still thinking about this boy?

That’s when my phone rings.

I answer it. It’s late. No one calls me at this time of night. It’s a collect call…from the Los Angeles Men’s Central Jail.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Who is me?”

“Asher. Someone tipped them off. They know Diamonte! They know! I’m in jail!”