Mister Farid -

Mister Farid - Part 2

"You seem to be in a good mood, Carla."

Carla was mid-bite of a burrito when the comment was made, looking over at her dark-skinned colleague as they swirled around juice in a metal water bottle, juice likely laced with a shot of vodka, but Marna never got intoxicated at work. So no one felt the need to bring it up with management.

The break room at the little grocery store where Carla worked was a bit dingy, but they kept it clean. The story of just about everything in the suburb where it was located, same as where she lived.

Just that little bit worn, but not quite run down, and though hardly the glamorous side of town, wasn't in such a state to be considered the 'bad' side of town either. It was just a bit rough. Crime wasn't any better or worse than in most places, so naturally they still got the occasional tweaker causing a ruckus and a mess for Carla to help clean up.

Carla swallowed the bite of her burrito and shot Marna a quizzical look.

"Do I?"

"Yup," Brodie piped up, shovelling down corn chips like they were going out of style. The man from Australia had sandy-coloured everything, it seemed, except for the green and red of the store uniform. Even his eyes were a light brown.

"Everyone can see it Carla, you even seem less tired than usual," Marna assured as she checked her frizzy hair. "Is that second job working out for you?"

"You could say that," Carla confessed, divulging nothing. "It's odd, it's a nice chance to relax while doing something. Focused, but no stress."

"Uh uh, you were like that

before

now," Brodie interrupted, mouth half full. He was a nice guy, but a bit lacking in manners. He turned to Marna. "I bet she's got herself a boyfriend."

"What?" Carla blurted out sharply.

"Well, I'll take that as confirmation," Marna quipped.

"Not just that, I bet she got laid," Brodie added.

"Brodie!" Carla snapped, face flushing red.

"Oh, now that's interesting, what makes you say that?" Marna asked, knowing full well how embarrassed Carla was right now. She was also a good person, but she liked to tease.

"Look, I've known plenty of girls in my time, gone out with my boyfriend to parties with friends. But most importantly, I've seen girls in the share house I live in coming home all smiles and cheer, and I can tell they're having a nice time at some guy or gal's house when they get the chance. Not just a hookup, a partner. That's what makes me say it."

Brodie promptly caught a cap to the face, part of Carla's uniform. He and Marna shared a laugh.

"Hey, nothing to be upset about. Happy for you," Marna assured, Brodie finishing off his corn chips, licking his orange fingers clean. "What's the lucky guy or girl's name?"

"Well, since you really want to know, yes, I'm... seeing someone. But it's between me and him," Carla stated, sounding slightly miffed.

"So it is a guy," Marna pointed out, chuckling and sipping her vodka juice. "Is he cute."

"Yes, he's cute, yes, he's hot, but again, it's between me and him. He wants to keep things private, and after getting to know him, I'm okay with that."

"Hmm, you sure that's alright?" Brodie inquired. "Sounds like things could get messy."

"You don't have to worry about me, my ass is gone if things start getting bad. But... he's kind, and amazing. And a lot of fun," Carla explained, keeping details deliberately vague.

"I bet he is," Brodie teased knowingly, earning a middle finger this time.

"You can't have him, you've already got a boyfriend," Carla warned half-jokingly.

"Don't worry, I'm quite happy with Favreau, I don't see myself stealing the boyfriends from any of the girls I know. Not any time soon at least."

He reached into his bag under the table, and pulled out another bag of corn chips. How he wasn't fat, Carla would never know.

"Glad to hear it," she answered in a deadpan tone.

"So... you wouldn't happen to have met this guy through your side gig?" Marna surmised coyly.

They knew she cleaned for some guy, but they didn't know the exact details. It never seemed important enough to bring up.

"Maybe," Carla suggested, taking another coy bite of her burrito.

"How fairy tale; meeting prince charming while cleaning his bathroom."

Marna giggled, and Carla gave them a wry smirk.

"Hey, at least I've found a guy, you're still working it out with the last one," Carla jabbed.

"Oh, now that's cold," Marna quipped. Her last relationship didn't work out that well, but she was one cool individual. It took a lot to get her upset, and she could take as much as she dished. Besides, her last relationship didn't so much explode as grind to a halt because she caught the guy hitting on her sister. And stealing from her wallet.

"Yeah, you're right, a bit of a low blow," Carla apologised, but it wasn't entirely sincere, a pointed smirk on her face.

"No, I get it, payback is fair," Marna conceded.

"I get off Scott free!" Brodie laughed, prompting Carla to steal his bag of corn chips and take a crushing fistful and stuff them in her mouth. "Hey!"

"Wamma beht?" Carla taunted as Brodie took back his chips, a stifled laugh escaping Carla's full mouth.

"Now now, girls, no need to fight," Marna teased. She decided to get things back on topic. "So, what

are

you willing to tell us about this guy?"

"Well... tall, dark, and handsome actually fits? And he's got a quiet life, which honestly just suits me so much. We see each other when we have time, it's a bit of a 'small time' sort of thing. Maybe it'll get more serious, but right now... I think we're both happy with where things are at."

"Hey, as long as you're happy and he's not taking advantage of you," Marna said.

"Honestly, I think he's worried about overstepping boundaries. He's really too polite for that, and I mean polite in an 'actually polite' kinda of way, not a creepy, weird 'm'lady' sort of way. Hell, I don't think he noticed I was hot for him for a little while."

"Sounds like you won the lottery," Brodie quipped. "You cherish that shit for as long as you got it."

"Oh, don't you worry Brodie," Carla remarked with a smile. "I'm making the most of every moment."

---

Carla clocked off at the end of the day, and caught the bus home to her apartment. Inside, she took her uniform off before she even got to her bedroom, kicking off her shoes by the door and stripping out of her shirt and slacks until she was only in her underwear, dropping both halves of the uniform in the hamper she put in her bedroom.

She got dressed into something casual for the evening, stepping back out into the main area of her apartment, and admiring its neatness.

Ever since she started 'seeing' Amon, she felt motivated to keep her own living arrangements tidier than usual. She couldn't quite explain it, but despite how oddly exhausted she got whenever they had some fun, just having someone to want to be neat for encouraged her to be neater in her home life.

Not that there wasn't some laziness still, a dressing gown from the other night draped over the back of the couch, and it wasn't like Amon demanded perfection. Hell, he could be quite lazy himself.

But he always did his best to be neat, to make her job easier.

It meant she could get her work done faster, and then...

She loosed a tittering sigh at the thought.

He made love in a way that just made her heart race. He was so... animated. So touchy. He

wanted

her to feel good.

Their relationship wasn't much more than that, and neither seemed too keen on taking things further, but 'fuck buddy' didn't seem to do Amon any justice.

He didn't call her just to get his dick wet, and she didn't turn up out of the blue when she wanted the D. They waited for the time they'd be together, and enjoyed it as much as they could.

They both agreed his lifestyle wasn't all that conducive to a full-time relationship. That, and Carla just felt like she was too out of his league for it.

What she told her colleagues earlier that day was true, but more factually it was her idea. She didn't want people finding out she was dating this super hot rich dude and starting gossip or asking her for things. She preferred their hook-ups private and quiet.

Even if that tongue of his could get her practically screaming in the bedroom.

Gods, she had to stop thinking about it, or she was going to get horny and have to call upon her

other

'friend'.

It'd seen less use since the start of Carla's new arrangement with Amon, but somethings, she just needed it. It could keep her 'entertained' on the lonely nights.

Maybe one day she could bring Amon to her place. Just to spice things up... though it wasn't quite as private.

She sighed, and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a can of wine and cracking it open with a hiss.

She wandered over too the couch and flicked the TV on, some program about animals in the Galapagos Islands.

Carla couldn't focus on what was being said all that much, her thoughts elsewhere and her attention on the can of wine in her hand.

Then she got a text message. She idly checked it, and saw who it was from.

Afar.

It was her little code for Amon Farid, a bit of clever wordplay, she did think so herself, just to add that bit of extra privacy, even if the code itself was a little mysterious.

Either way, it got her rapt attention quickly, and checked the contents of the message.

Carla. Next week is going to be busy. You can still come, but we mightn't be able to spend too much time together. I've got business associates coming over pretty much every day. Just letting you know. Sorry about it.

A sigh left her lips.

It wasn't unusual people were over, but there was at least a day they could have on their own. But the whole week? She only visited three days. Talk about inconvenient. Usually when people were there, she kept quiet. Sometimes she spoke, but she was there to do a job, and she wasn't as comfortable around them as she was Amon. Amon, she'd arguably grown

too

comfortable around, just so quick to get aroused or quick of heart around him.

Whatever, she wasn't so obsessed with him that she couldn't go a week without having sex with him. But still, it was a ton of fun.

She murmured again, and went about flicking through the channels for something to watch before settling on streaming an old show she liked.

---

Carla didn't quite grasp

how

busy Amon actually meant his week was going to get.

She got another text message over the weekend, asking if she could come earlier than usual, to tidy up because he was basically preparing for a function in his own home.

There were already several people there when she arrived, including his agent, whom Carla had never before met.

He greeted her instead of Amon, who was somewhere inside.

"Ah, you must be Miss Myers. Please, come in."

He was friendly enough, but compared to Amon, it didn't

feel

as genuine.

Not hollow, not veiling a hidden contempt for her, just... businesslike. A formality and nothing more. Though there was a hint of stress on his face, which, given his skinny frame, seemed more evident.

He was gaunt, but on the taller side, and his skin was a pale brown, so not quite a walking corpse. His eyes were too bright for that vibe as well, but those green orbs seemed like they were looking around everywhere. That his short blonde hair was a little dishevelled further demonstrated his stress.

He didn't look like a professional, not with the green and yellow Hawaiian shirt. Even if he did have a black tie bizarrely hanging over his chest.

He had business casual slacks on, navy blue with a clean handkerchief spilling out of one of the pockets, the other looking bulky with things inside, a phone or wallet or such.

Carla entered with a nod, and saw another man in a business suit, talking quietly on his phone. They were bald and wearing dark glasses, maybe security? She didn't think Amon had or needed security.

Elsewhere, she heard a woman's voice, and Amon's. They were discussing something, quite businesslike.

"If you could be quick with your cleaning, that would be helpful," Amon's agent pushed. It was a little rude, but he was already pulling out his phone and calling someone up.

It was like they were about to host a foreign dignitary, just without all the extra bullshit that comes with that.

Carla rolled her eyes, but did as she was asked, and started in the kitchen, to the agent's chagrin, but he had no time to complain. Or right, for that matter.

As she moved to the lounge area, the bald guy glancing at her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher, Amon and the woman came out of one of the back rooms.

She was an older woman, in her 50s, but the term 'aged like wine' certainly applied; her wrinkles were fairly shallow, and her silver hair looked so shiny and healthy, even glinting in the lights. Her blue eyes were vibrant, like the sky, but her pupils were sharp and focused like a hawk prowling in it.

Her face was a little paler than the rest of her body, makeup no doubt, and she sported cherry-pink lip gloss.

A tight fitting, navy-blue dress hugged her curves, and she was quite shapely, but the fit was nonetheless refined and dignified, going down to her knees, black stockings covering the rest of her legs, her dark heels just as glossy as her hair.

There was a simple necklace of silver links around her neck, along with silver earrings with tiny diamonds embedded in each, along with a number of simple silver rings. She must have preferred it over gold.

Amon was in casual clothes, a grey T-shirt and some black jeans and black sneakers. Which still looked nicer than the new clothes Carla was wearing, pale-blue and tight-fitting jeans and a new purple tank top over a white undershirt, very neatly covering her midriff. Her shoes were still the same.

"Ah, Carla, glad you could make it!" Amon greeted, friendly as ever.

Carla was doing her best to suppress any 'wayward' reaction towards him. She didn't need to be getting a little hot under the hood around these people.

"Hello Amon," Carla replied, prompting a raised brow from the woman.

"First names?" she inquired curiously.

"Well, we have known each other for a few weeks," Amon answered with just a hint of snark. "Carla, this is Miss Diana Biers. She's an associate of mine, I've done a few gigs for her. Used to be quite the model herself in her day."

"Alas, these days maturity isn't so valued by young things and their..." She paused, eyes moving up and down Carla. "...modern tastes."

Carla bristled, and Amon cast a subtle look of annoyance Diana's way.

"Diana, manners," he warned more overtly.

"Sorry, just... some frustrations and what not. I let them out when I shouldn't have. Shall we start over?"

"Of course," Carla agreed, though she wasn't entirely sure Diana was genuine. It was hard to tell, the woman had a classy voice and spoke with a professional air. "Carla Myers."

"Diana Biers," Diana answered, offering her hand, and Carla accepted.

"As for the man who deserves a break, that's my Agent, Eugene Farnum. And the other guy in the corner there," Amon pointed to the bald man who only glanced in acknowledgement with a small nod, "is Taylor Barns. He's my makeup artist."

Carla blinked, looking at the bald dude in his business suit and dark glasses, sure he was security. She couldn't imagine him powdering up Amon's face.

Nor did she think Amon needed a makeup artist.

"Anyways, as much as I'd love for us to converse some more, the caterers will be arriving soon, and then the guests," Amon said, sounding a little exasperated.

"What's wrong, Amon? I thought you enjoyed hosting your little get togethers?" Diana quipped, Carla noting the woman was on a first-name basis too.

"I like hosting for ten people at best, I can expect more than twenty," he muttered. "And a bit more lively than usual."

"Fuji Takayama is a renowned fashion designer, in Asia and this part of the world, and she's interested in making you the model for her newest line of menswear," Diana explained. "And you expressed interest in return."

"Yes, I did. And I'm well aware of her ostentatious nature, and her flair for the grand, but did she have to throw this party of hers in my house? I know of a pretty good hotel and restaurant that'd be appropriate even for her."

"She wants to get to know you in 'your own environment'. Even if she plans to turn it into a whole song-and-dance."

Amon sighed.

"Alright. I'll go get ready for Mrs. Takayama then. Will Mister Takayama be joining us? None of our correspondence mentioned anything."

Diana chuckled.

"Of course not. He's probably back in Japan, out of the way like they both prefer."

Carla kept quiet, but she was starting to find all these fashion-world personalities draining. And she hadn't even met this 'Takayama' lady, or even heard of them until now.

Though, Amon was 'draining' too, in a completely different way. She pushed that thought aside before she flushed and Diana noticed. Carla just didn't want to be seen in a 'compromised state' before that woman.

"Well, I'll just finish up in here and then the rest of the house," Carla interjected.

"Right, yes. Sorry, Carla," Amon apologised. "Just a bit hectic right now."

"It's fine, we can chat another time," Carla assured.

Again, Diana raised a brow.

"Chats? You seem rather familiar with your cleaner, Amon," she remarked.

"I prefer knowing the people that come into my house than just pretending they're not there," Amon answered diplomatically.

Carla was not liking this Diana woman.

"I think I'm done in here, I'll deal with the laundry," she said a little curtly, and left the lounge room before Diana could make any more 'observations' about the familiarity between Amon and Carla.

Normally she enjoyed cleaning his place, it was oddly relaxing, but not right now.

Oh, she hoped he'd find some time to help her 'relax'.

She was only halfway done with the cleaning by the time the first of the caterers arrived. Fortunately she was finished with the bottom floor, giving the caterers a clean kitchen to start laying out the food and setting up the nice cutlery and such.

She could hear them downstairs, and a few heated words between Amon and Eugene.

Amon had, by now, changed into a really fancy three-piece suit, tailor-made, but also sporting some attributes that set it apart from typical business and formal-wear, sporting some exaggerated collars and really striking trim.

No tie, and the grey was really smooth. Carla caught herself looking, and in one subtle moment, Amon returned her gaze with a quick smirk.

She turned away to keep a blush from forming on her face, but she knew he was aware. Things still had to be discrete.

Especially with people like Diana around him... somehow, Carla figured the woman would raise more than a bit of a huff if she found out Amon had a blue-collar cleaner working two jobs as a fuck-buddy. Modern sensibilities and standards irrelevant.

And as downstairs started sounding more hectic, Carla felt like she was right in her initial estimate that any real relationship with Amon would be... difficult. Something she just didn't want to get more involved in.

Did that make her a bad person? Or was it okay for Amon to just stay a friend with benefits?

Food for thought, but right now she wanted whatever food was being laid out downstairs, she could smell something nice wafting up the stairs making her salivate a little. Maybe she could convince Amon to save some for her, because she doubted she was going to be welcome for much longer.

She was out of her depth, in a sea very much not meant for her, and she wasn't even really away from the beach.