Sun In The South

One

The first thing you must learn about Yvonne Perez is; asides her motherly responsibility to her fourteen year old daughter being top notch, her drop-dead gorgeousness, and serious devotion to her profession, she was a woman desperate for power and recognition. And, though she was swimming in her own money that was still a controversial case, she was always spotted anywhere other people were ready to spend theirs. That was the main reason she was even at this event in the first place, watching Mayor Esteban Vásquez from her strategic spot. The vantage point she'd chosen from the beginning of the event. The same spot she had no intention of leaving until he at least noticed she was looking swanky. For him. Definitely for him.

She had picked this silk, thin-strapped, silver dress without contemplation. It was one of the most elegant yet revealing dresses at the store, and despite its high price and her current impaired account balance, she didn't give it more than a glance to know it was all it'd take to get the damn Mayor to look in her direction.

But no, the imbecile had his sexily attractive hands dug in his tightly-fitted pant pockets, instead of around her waist. The worst part was, he looked put off, and the flirtatiousness Yvonne had highly expected to get from him, it all started to turn into false hope as she feared he just might be gay.

"If you keep looking at him like that, he'd think you're a swinger," those words made her spring forward and almost let her drink slip out of her slack squeeze.

And if she didn't recognize the voice so well, perhaps she'd have turned around to question this bigmouth and buzzkill. "Don't f*****g kid me, Javier. We're in Monterrey, not Chiapas." She took a sip from her drink, still training her eyes on Esteban's, so he'd be looking in her direction, if only that was possible. "Hussies don't exist here. We classy women, on the other hand, could serve as consorts for morons like Esteban."

"Looking for a more appropriate way to refer to your new profession as a tart?" He chuckled underneath his breath. Being the only person that knew her so well, Javier had the most fitting responses for her every occasion. "Silver looks boring on you, that is probably why the mayor looks bored."

"Hold your tongue," she spat out through gritted teeth as she strove to look as composed as a Barbie doll. "You're more of my inner demon than my best friend."

"And if your friend doesn't remind you of your undoing, your demons will do it. In a harsher way, that is." Javier picked up a glass of champagne off the server's tray as he joined Yvonne in spectating the marquee of people who smelled of wealth, then he raised the glass up—cheers—to nothing exactly.

The women under the yellow and purple nightlights were glistening like the hot summer weather. Their makeups were screaming for the attention of single men, or sugar daddies ideally. Yvonne obviously was losing in a competition that didn't even exist, she wasn't hot summer. She didn't even have the kind of wealth to call attention anymore, which was maybe why she kind of looked completely out of place here.

Despite her efforts to pull a fast one on bankruptcy, her best wasn't good enough for her to grab the attention of the man she wanted. And it was such a taunting feeling.

None of that was true. She was just being an over-thinker.

"I hate to remind you in this moment that this gracious man, gentle or not, is the ticket to your next meal. If you don't try to act less desperate and more put together, and he leaves here without saying a single word to you, you should get ready for what comes with being a former lawyer."

Yvonne's heart sunk deep into her stomach. Javier was so stupid and right. She needed her next meal and also this man to make that happen. He was one of the big men in power, fit for the position—being a divorcee and extremely rich.

She'd stalked this one for almost two weeks and knew a few relevant things about him. One of which was: he had a weird fascination for women who were in places of authority. She didn't have time to dig too much for reasons. She was one of those women, and he had money, which would make the trade by barter very easy. If only he'd f*****g look at her now and perceive her grandeur.

Vasquez had earlier greeted his invited guests for coming, related with a few familiar faces and seemed to be putting up an appearance. He was like Yvonne, and she could only admit it with an inward smile.

The whole 'I'm great' appearance thing even when she tuckered out, it looked pretty much like what he was on the rostrum doing, now that he was talking to a man with more silver hairs in his beard than some men could ever grey in life.

The said man and Vasquez both exchanged conversations back and forth, and Vasquez seemed to not like what was being said to him, even if he was putting up a smile. He looked uncomfortable and adjusted his tie stylishly. But because Yvonne could understand and relate to his demeanor, she was interested in knowing why Vasquez's mood was off, and what exactly this man was telling the Mayor.

"Who's the man?"

Javier dropped his gaze on Vasquez's company and held it there for uninterrupted seconds. Then, "Python."

Just as quickly as the words registered in Yvonne's brain, she nudged her head in Javier's direction to confirm he was being serious.

He shrugged. "I tried to do a background check on the kinds of people he meets, you said it yourself—"

"And you came up with Python?" Her sarcasm was palpable.

"I didn't come up with Python for the fun of it. I dug. People say he's feared. That he's Esteban's godfather."

Yvonne had to look back at the man to replace her doubt and it did nothing, because the Python guy, if older than Vasquez at all, would not be more than a few years older. "How's that a godfather? Or did you mean to say godbrother."

Grabbing her waist in a brief second, Javier turned her to back Vasquez and face himself, so that even if the Mayor spared this part of the marquee a glance by mistake, he'd not meet their classy chick looking like a lost lunatic. "Breathe. I know you're about to panic, I don't get why, but breathe."

She eyed him, intensely aggravated. "I'm here to seduce a man into loving me and get money out to him for the sake of the firm," she rushed through her words like he didn't already know that. "And the first person you link this man to is a snake? My god." She was stopped from looking around as Javier held her firmly to focus, then she shook her head. "I'm not scared of that, no. You're mistaken. I'm actually worried you didn't do your job well enough and this man might be gay, and I'm wasting my f*****g time."

Instead of the daunting demon to reassure her that he did his job more than well, and that she was the one letting panic turn her into an over-thinker, he let go of her and disappeared into the crowd like a ghost without purpose.

Before Yvonne could steady her vision to make out why he left and where to, her ear was tickled by warm air that smelled of tequila and wisteria at the same time. Not just that, the words of a well controlled voice bounced into her eardrums.

She f*****g froze. It could not have been what she was thinking, but the words the seemingly audacious man had spoken, kind of countered anything contrary she might have been thinking.

He'd said, "Even with eleven feet between our tiers, I could hear you calling me silently."

The smartest thing she did tonight was to finally allow that air into her lungs with a sharp inhale. Perhaps the Mayor would have had to pick her off her tier and revive her.

"Aren't you mistaking?" Her voice betrayed her as it gave out her worries.

She'd prepared for him all night, what she'd say and all. Now that he'd caught her off guard, her brain wasn't only dead, her body couldn't respond to at least turn around and make sure it was even the Vasquez she was flustered by. Hell, it better not be some imbecile making her falter from nervousness.

"I read people. A lot," he emphasized on the lot. "And I kind of know when women are f*****g me in their heads." His questioning tone wavered to a demanding one as he switched the conversation to something more desirable. "Meet me outside, I came in a black Acura MDX with a title on my plate."

Without hesitating, or leaving room for protest, Vasquez strode away with lithesome grace.

He had to carry enough glory for at least ten people to explain why his presence was easily felt when he appeared and immediately left with him once he went away. Yvonne instantly felt free, from his breath, body heat and his fuckable voice that sounded like whiskey: gravelly, yet breathy.

A picture of his retreating back was stuck in her head even after he'd vanished out of the marquee. She was sure he was the right pick now, as a faint smile formed on her face.

Newly divorced. Charming. Commanding. He was a smart flirter; f**k yes, he was. And not to forget, he was a hot piece of cake, with vanilla icings.

For no reason at all, she looked around the marquee. Okay, maybe she wanted to be sure no one would dare imagine she, Yvonne Perez, had degraded from law courts and Pearls of Eve, to the backseat of a Mayor's Acura, not to mention that she even had eyes on him for whatever reason.

She was still figuring all that out when she miraculously spotted demon Javier coming out of an arch to her far left. It was a fitting moment, his demonic ways of doing things surpassing his nature as a normal human being, because rather than urging her with a smile to follow the Mayor, he kept a straight face she could read as a final warning.

"f**k you." Javier read her lips tell him, and he smirked cockily, mouthing back to her, "Gladly."

Giggling at their first victory since the meeting, thirteen days ago, Yvonne started walking out of the marquee.

Two weeks ago, she'd struck a deal with the board of directors, begging them to give her four months to pay up her nine million debt with the firm, or her shares would be given to Lawson—the almost insignificant shareholder—as payment, and that would automatically lead her out of Pearl of Eve and Associates.

Nothing in the world, asides her daughter, was more important than that firm to her, she couldn't lose it.

With advanced determination, she boldened her steps and walked out of the building and into the airy night that made her dress move as if it was alive. Before she began the search for the black Acura, she noticed that the parking lot was thinner. A lot of cars had left. Probably off, performing sugar daddy duties. The sophisticated hussies were fewer now and it made her stand out.

It was very obvious this wasn't her profession; f*****g rich men for a new pair of Louis Vuitton, a bottle of Giorgio Armani perfume, a mansion, or worse—to save a firm she inherited from her father. She was only skilled at grabbing men's attention without effort, having s*x with them after an intellectual conversation, and concluding if they were keepable or throwable. If the former, then as what?

But you see the whole getting a man to notice you so you could pretend to like the long, boring talks just because you'd need to ask a favor from him after a while? Her incapability was tearing her down as she looked at how the other women effortlessly did it and joined affluent men in their sleek cars. Men that didn't come with their wives to an occasion like this obviously knew exactly what they were doing.

Yvonne sighed heavily one last time and then looked upfront, just as her eyes caught a black car. It wasn't Acura. She looked to her left first, sighting other black luxury cars and then her right, when she still didn't see the Acura.

It was his entourage she saw first. They wore black suits and shirts that they knotted with black ties, and they had earbuds hung in their left ears. The white headlamps swept the few meters between the car and another in front of it. It was in this moment she noticed one his his escorts was fluttering his palm for her to come to them.

She launched forward, cautiously optimistic about this as she summoned her graceful strides.

As she made the long walk down, she only heard one voice—the managing director's, how he called her back after everyone at the meeting had stepped out and told her he didn't know how she wanted to pay off the debt like she'd signed. He'd said if she couldn't, it'd please him more. And he said it with scorn.

Coming from a man that worked along side her father, a man that put her through the pros and cons of the firm, she knew she was in big trouble. He'd not strike another deal with her after four months, and none of the board directors would even listen to her sorry case of a wrong investment that had slowly drained her pocket. No one would care, and Lawson would get the chance to buy her shares and make the company his.

The guy by the door immediately pulled it open and Yvonne was met with the fresh scent of Oud that breezed from the cool, dark car. She didn't hold Vasquez's gaze for more than a second before climbing into the car and installing herself on the seat by his right hand side. Then she could no longer feel her heart beating. She could only hear herself breathing and hoped Vasquez wasn't hearing it too.

Thing is, he was even too busy with the book in his hands to notice and acknowledge her, so she waited and waited, long enough for her to lose track of time.

Seemed like Vasquez wanted to finish the chapter of the book - she didn't know anything about - before he proceeded with whatever, because as soon as he read the last line, he slammed it shut and put it, not aside, but in a place where Yvonne could read the title: 'Manipulation'—How To Master The Art Of Analyzing People And Influence Human Behavior With Dark Psychology And Mind Control Techniques.

Nearly melting to death, Yvonne's eyes went further down to the author. She almost choked on her saliva, striving heavily to stay composed.

"Pardon me, I'm always very engrossed in those. I should have spoken earlier," Vasquez mentioned, eyeing her purposely while she eyed the book on the hand-rest and worked through the immediate curiosity that befell her.

Eventually, after about fifteen seconds, Yvonne peeled her eyes off the book and faced Vasquez with a light smile. "I understand, I'm a reader myself."

"Oh? Interesting. What genre do you read?"

"The Rule of Law by Tom Bingham," she giggled, taking Vasquez unawares.

He didn't get it, so Yvonne went further. "The Constitution?" She watched his reaction closely, biting down her tongue.

Most men extremely liked lawyers or extremely hated them, she couldn't hide her profession from him because she knew what she wanted and knew she couldn't get it by being secretive about something like that, or she'd waste the time she didn't have on him when he'd not hesitate dump her after knowing what she did for a living.

Vasquez's face carved out a sketchy expression that Yvonne couldn't explain. "You're a lawyer?"

She nodded. Then it went awkwardly quiet for the next minute.

"That's interesting." His comment was unexpected but it made Yvonne feel better. Interesting was a good word, wasn't it?

Soon after, the car geared up and started moving. Yvonne looked outside through the tinted window and saw the marquee turn into city buildings as the car zoomed into the expressway. She looked back into the car and caught Vasquez staring at her.

"Where do you want me to take you?" He asked, and she got the chance to notice a few things about his features.

The jaws that accommodated finely shaved stubbles were slightly broad. His turn-up nose sat solemnly between two sexy sterling gray eyes. And, he had a very handsome and warming toothy smile.

"Anywhere comfortable that we can talk," she suggested.

Asides his pathological choice of books, he was everything she wanted in a man, everything she thought Dave Collin was when she saw his profile on Tinder. She liked men whose physique gave her insecurities about her own drop-dead hot body. It was a big turn on. If she was going to use a man for his money, she had better liked showing him off and got turned on by little things he did. Like the way he slanted his left eye after squinting it.

Vasquez poked his head forward to have access to his driver's side view. "We're going to the house."

The news hit Yvonne with equally matched emotions of absolute desire and uncertainty. Him taking her to his house was a good thing because men like him liked to f**k their one night stands in hotels, and not their houses. But the flip side of that was that she didn't know what to expect in a mayor's house on the first day they were encountering each other. A drink? Conversation on politics or law? Food? Or maybe homely s*x.

Bloody hell.

Her head was racing, but she concluded one thing within her, she was ready for whatever he needed, he even had a very desirable way of stating those needs. She was aroused by a lot of things about him, so that was good.

Ultimately, he didn't have a wife she needed to be worried about, so what could possibly go wrong?

Nothing, she thought. Absolutely nothing.