CEO bawdy

wooden windows on the balcony. And, still tying her belt around her waist, she admired the bucolic landscape. She still felt the same emotion. She was born in that house, grew up running around every corner of the property, bathed in the river and rode countless times to and from school. She breathed in the scent of the earth, a mixture of jasmine and dried dung. She puffed out her breasts and her nipples stood out in the cold morning. She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a thick lock into a careless bun.

Today is a great day to trade land, she thought, tasting the bitter saliva under her tongue. 2 Walid was preparing breakfast in front of the kitchen sink. The cloth strainer received the powder and hot water, the homemade bread finished baking on the wood stove. And, although the kitchen was large and modern - the decor was clean, with built-in cabinets and a duplex stainless steel refrigerator -, there was still a bit of the air of his poor childhood on Valentine's parents' farm. She threw herself into the chair and laid her head in her hands. - I hate waking up. - She said, feeling the bad mood weighing on her shoulders. I had dreamed that she was on the sidewalk of an avenue, sitting on a toilet without a lid. - I dreamed that I pooped in public, can you believe that? I was in a circle of friends, talking, and I discreetly pulled the toilet to the side, sat on it and took a shit. There wasn't even a seat, it was like that rubble you see thrown into the ditch, and I was trying to squeeze out the demon without anyone noticing. Of course they noticed and frowned. Solidarity, right, we don't see it here. Uffff! - As always screwing up. - said the other. Walid was the brother of the farm manager and had always been there, playing ball, flying kites, riding horses. During their childhood, they weren't friends, because Victor wouldn't let his brother get close to his boss's daughter. But after she was alone, Walid was the only person who understood her loss. He was also an orphan. They started talking, listening to music together and talking about trivial things. She didn't let him get close to the point where they became best friends, as she always had a flea behind her ear regarding him. Something strange, an intuition, so to speak, that she didn't allow herself to fully open up to the boy. On the other hand, she kept him close and enjoyed her company, even though every now and then she heard unpleasant hints or comments that left her feeling down. But she let it go unnoticed, it was a thing of his personality, maybe even the way he was raised. - I woke up wanting to tell someone to fuck off. - Is that why you're going to talk to Carlo? - he provoked her - Look, if you're going to get tough with the police chief, you better prepare yourself psychologically. That one is a tough nut to crack. - I am ready. - Like this, in a robe? Well, if you're dressed like that, it'll be easier, because he'll eat you. - I believe. - she made a disdainful face - I need to speed up the process of retaking the lands from... from... Damn, I can't even say the idiot's name. - Your mother loved that idiot, so much so that she left the land to him. - She said, sharply. -She was deluded. - And what woman isn't? If you want to know, I don't think it's right for you to pressure Jeremiah's son to sell you the land. Leave the guy alone. - The land belonged to my father. - She felt anger swell her face. - My mother jumped the fence and almost destroyed our family. She slid her arms across the surface of the table until she flattened her cheek on the furniture. - Living is shit. -Then kill yourself, now. What are you still doing here? - Laziness. - I'll carry her to the slaughterhouse. What type of suicide are you interested in committing? - You're ready to be coached. - she mocked. 3 Amidst the clothes in the closet with mirror walls, she was in doubt about choosing the outfit to face the most scoundrel cowboy in Laredo. That kind of man, sexist and rude, didn't deserve her getting dressed up to see him. At least she wouldn't be wearing her best clothes. She was capable of believing that she was flirting with him, seducing him, the devil. It was as they said: a man's self-esteem should be encapsulated and sold in pharmacies. She picked out some faded jeans and a black t-shirt. She put on her boots in case she had to kick him in the balls. She tied it in a ponytail, because maybe they were going to roll on the floor in a hellish fight and she wouldn't let him pull her hair. She put on her sunglasses, looked in the mirror and puffed her peas. Damn, I don't have breasts!, she thought, laughing. She could even have silicone inserted if she wasn't afraid of dying on the operating table. So many people died, right? The truth was that she liked being disrespected, not having to wear a bra, being able to run freely without her things swinging and slapping her... Besides, it wasn't the size of her breasts that defined a woman's beauty. It was the butt. And Valentine, according to Walid, had a good tail. Of course, it wasn't Kim Kardashian-style at all, although they shared the same cellulite as living people. One more look in the mirror, that general check, thumbs hooked into the waistband of the jeans in the posture of someone who is going to arrive kicking everything! 4 Wide back and narrow waist, small butt that fits into the jeans, as well as the thick thighs of the long legs. Brown, almost blond hair, disheveled strands that hid the back of his head. Unshaven. Blue eyes, fair skin tanned from the sun, large and straight nose, square chin. Macho face, macho son of a bitch who thinks he is. Six feet tall, ripped abs, big arms marked on the cotton t-shirt. She's already seen Deputy Carlo Bertholo without a shirt, not that it matters at the moment, and he has a huge tribal tattoo on his chest and left arm. - Hey, lazy deputy... - yes, that's how she called him and made him turn to her - I want my father's land back, it was his, it's not fair that you, as a man of the law, appropriate it of foreign lands. Carlo lifted the brim of his Stetson, looked around with a sarcastic look, and turned to pay attention to him. - Lúcia was in her right mind

back to the police station. He won't talk to you, no. The dark-skinned boy, with light eyes, unshaven and stocky, that is, tall and broad, seemed like a nice guy. Valentine didn't know the people on that farm, she had never been there, although she mentally visited them every day. For years she controlled herself, listened to advice from Walid, the priest, the president of the council and the mayor's secretary. Everyone said the same thing: don't mess with the police chief. He has nothing to do, he's bored and will end up picking a fight with you just to distract himself.

She sat on the hood of the car and texted him. VALENTINE: I'm going to camp in front of your house. CARLO: Get off my property or I'll put steel bracelets on your paws. VALENTINE: I'm friends with big people, you'll be fired, public servant! CARLO: Take the big ones and put them... in the pocket of your children's pants. What hate!, she typed so fast that she sent the message full of errors. VALENTINE: Lrdão de teras! Corupito delegate! CARLO: Pretty and stupid. Now let me eat in peace, damn it. The boy, accompanied by the cow, approached her. - We didn't introduce ourselves, right? - She extended her hand. - My name is Rizzo. Valentine ignored the outstretched hand. - I know who you are. - Oh really? - he gave her a look that was supposed to be seductive, but seemed a bit cross-eyed - You usually go to the country lounge, I got a discount coupon for soda... You don't drink beer, do you? This guy Rizzo was mocking, throwing himself at her as if he had a bullet in his needle for that. She fell off the hood and opened the car door. She sat down in front of the steering wheel and pulled the shoulder belt. Rizzo went to the window to wait for her answer. The boy's brown eyes shone, certain that he would receive a positive answer and a negative answer. Yes, I'll go out with you and no, I don't drink beer, I won't give you extra expenses, I'm pretty and cheap. - Take your feet off. - Valentine said dryly. - What? - I don't want to crush your feet with the tires. The other laughed, oh, how sweet, she has a sense of humor. - What do you think about going out with me? She lowered the sunglasses that were on top of her head and looked at the unsuspecting man. - I think it's crazy and scary. She almost laughed in his face, he looked like he was about to faint, his face froze in a surrendered-stallion expression. The fact that he looked her age and was handsome and, worse than that, knew he was handsome, encouraged him to flirt with her without taking into consideration the inconvenience of the attitude. She accelerated the car, leaving Don Juan literally in the dust. 5 Valentine raised her hand, drawing the cowgirl-dressed waitress' attention to her table. It was eleven o'clock at night, the colored lights from the various spots on the dance floor, surrounded by tables and chairs, flashed intermittently in the country room. The invitation to relax at night came from Walid. He knew that she would return possessed from visiting the usurper of her father's lands. When he arrived at the farm, he went straight to his room and threw himself on the bed. He tried to cry in anger, but he couldn't. So he slept all afternoon. In the afternoon he was woken up by the gentle wind that blew the bedroom curtain. He sat on the bed and evaluated her life, she felt terrible, empty and lonely. Before sinking into depression, she got out of bed and rode for a while. Then he took a shower and went down to the porch. Until the invitation to go out came. Walid invited her, because that way he left the expense to the boss, herself, Valentine, the muggle. - Hello, Cris, how is the baby? - she asked the waitress. She could see the sparkle in the woman's eyes every time Valentine asked about her son. - He's drooling like hell, I think his teeth are coming in, you know, tearing through his gums. - Poor thing, what torture! I remember very well when my teeth came out - said Walid, acting funny. - We are both suffering, because he is just being cunning. - Cris' complaint was accompanied by a smile - Well, what are you going to drink? - A caipirinha, señorita. - I thought you were going to be tough, Valentine. - Walid liked extravagant drinks, preferably the most expensive ones - Dear Cris, please bring a bottle of whiskey. -The cheapest whiskey, please. - Valentine intervened, ignoring Walid's disapproving look. - That's it, guys. As soon as the waitress walked away, Walid started waving frantically, stood up and waved both arms calling whoever was coming to their table. -Bella! Here, darlings! Come, Sulaine! - Did you invite them? - the two were girlfriends, one more jealous than the other and that meant a shack in sight. - Damn, I want peace, don't you understand? I just got into an argument with a son of a bitch, no more stress for today. - Dear, listen to me... - he pouted and then spoke in a thick, very masculine voice - just don't mess with the Bella girl. The two sat down in chairs, and the glasses didn't stay empty for long. She didn't like shacks, but she always ended up stuck in one of those, and the couple at the table had doctorates in it. In truth, she was already tired of that place and the type of music it played. I liked seventies rock more than country music. Sometimes she would stay in her room listening to Elton John, feeling nostalgic for a life she never lived. She always felt closer to anguish and melancholy than to happiness. And the loss of her parents accentuated this darker side of her. She excused herself from the desk staff and got up, taking her bag with her. She crossed the dance floor, disturbing some couples who were clinging to the mechanical sound of Garth Brooks. She dodged a cowboy who made to pull her into a kiss and entered the long hallway that led to the women's bathroom. In front of the counter with a mirror, squeezed between half a dozen women who were getting ready, putting on makeup, talking and laughing loudly, Valentine washed her face and took off her makeup. She put on her bluetooth headphones and let Tiny Dancer play as she walked to the bar. She stopped in front of the bartender and pointed to the bottle of vodka. She went out to the parking lot, the strong wind blew her hair. She looked up at the sky and there were no stars in sight. Lightning brightened the night. Valentine did what she wanted, what she felt like, and at that moment, she needed to distance herself from everyone. The last few years have been heavy. Loneliness felt like an animal that treacherously ate you from the inside. And, truth be told, she didn't like anyone. Which made the situation worse. She drove through the city streets aimlessly. She thought about her parents. They weren't perfect, no one is. But you come from where you come from, and the fruits may not have chosen the tree from which they sprouted. However, they continued to belong to her. In her case, she was lucky. The only child of people who loved her and gave her everything she needed to be happy. A rather melancholy happiness, it was true. She stopped at the traffic light, and a luxury pickup truck pulled up to her car. She recognized the driver, he was the son of the owner of a supermarket chain. He signaled with his headlights, calling her to a race. The boredom of living in a quiet city led younger people to compete with their fast cars and imported motorcycles. She made a negative sign with her index finger, forcing a smile to hide her sadness. She would never let the weakest part of her personality show, it was

you. She learned not to trust anyone. She saw inside her own house what lies, the breach of trust, and betrayal meant. Everything fell apart. The ideal then was not to give in, not to love, not to let it get close. Don't show that you cry, that you suffer and that you feel down. The boy took off with screeching tires, leaving her behind. Valentine slowed down and turned onto a side street that would take her, in a few kilometers, to the highest point in Laredo. You could see the city from above. The gazebo with the wooden deck was a favorite place for couples.

She parked and looked at the passenger seat, there was her company, a bottle of vodka. It was better to take her home, not drive drunk. She wouldn't forgive herself if she hurt someone. But he wouldn't mind if she crashed into a public pole either. She had no friends. She had no close relatives. She had no one. 6 The woman arrived and found him on the porch, drinking beer, looking at the empty cans in the trash can. Carlo was lying more than sitting in the wicker chair, with a high back, a model used by "grandpas". It was there that his father sat to smoke and think about life. Perhaps his last thoughts were for his lover who regretted living in love and returned to marriage. His legs apart and stretched out in a relaxed position, his feet bare and his eyelids half-closed, evaluating the tall, thin figure of the blonde who gave him good times in bed. Not good, great. She got out of the car and only then could he see the body sculpted in the gym, the denim shorts frayed at the hem, the tank top glued to her voluminous breasts, the gold anklet, the tan that gave her the appearance of being toasted from the sun in contrast to the almost white hair. - I thought he was dead. - she said, her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. - He doesn't answer my calls anymore. Hmm, trouble, he thought, quickly considering whether he owed her a last-minute canceled call or event. - A lot of work. - He yawned, giving him the standard answer. - Here in Laredo? Tell another. - she climbed the porch steps without stopping to look at him - If you don't have time for me, that's fine, but don't call me just to fuck. He raised an eyebrow. - And why are you here? - To climb. - He smiled, with a naughty air. Straightening up in his chair, Carlo became enthusiastic about the conversation. - Just the way I like it, straight to the point. - I already told you what I came for, are you going to keep me waiting? - He indicated the front door with a nod. - Don't I deserve dinner or to hear a romantic lie? - Okay, Carlo, let's go out for a few drinks and then spend the rest of the night at my house. He slapped his hand on his thigh, beckoning her to sit on his lap. -But you came to miss my bed, didn't you? - I thought he was committed to some poor thing, so I didn't plan anything special. But since you seem available... - I'm always available. - He slid his hand under her blouse, finding her excited peak under her palm. - We can go in right now. - We can? - she purred and licked the deputy's mouth. - Yes we can. He got up with her on his lap and carried her into the house. 7 Valentine returned to the country hall. She sat at the table while Walid talked to a handsome young man. She put the bottle of vodka on the table and poured herself a glass. - This is James. - the friend introduced the stranger who, by the way, was known to her. At least the name. Every now and then she heard her father talk about a certain James. And she thought it was funny that a Laredan had a foreign name. - And this is Valentine, owner of the Messano farm. - Are you Valentine? - She nodded at his surprised look. - For a while I was the one who took care of your father's accounts and the farm. I resigned from the bank a few months ago, I was tired of the office routine. - he smiled - But I'm happy to know that you kept the farm and didn't sell it. - She would never pass on Mr. Messano's legacy - Walid intervened, seeming to reproach him - My brother takes care of this annoying money part and everything is fine. - That's great then. - he looked embarrassed, sipped the rest of his drink and said goodbye - I don't have a car, and my friend is asking me to leave - he nodded - Your father was a very friendly customer, he made good friends at the bank. - Thanks. - She squeezed his hand, and he continued to hold hers. - I shouldn't intrude, but I suggest you hire someone from outside the farm to do a good audit, since you are now the sole owner of the property. - Okay, thanks for the advice. - She replied in a stammer while imagining why he would worry about someone who was no longer her client. The father always took very good care of the business, and now the manager managed the property. It was true, however, that she didn't ask for an explanation of anything, how the finances were going and so on. All she had to do was use the credit card whose bill was paid by the guy at the office, or withdraw money from the ATM. And she always had a generous balance in her account. She took a good sip of vodka, thinking about the fact that she had no head for finances and didn't know what bills she had to pay. It was a denial with numbers. However, she knew very well the extent and value of the lands that she would wrest from beneath Carlo Bertholo's feet. She heard the confused noise of fighting. She turned half her body back, leaning on the back of the chair and saw Suliane punching a brute in the face. - Put your hand on your grandmother's ass, you pervert! Bella jumped on the man's back and applied a blow that was supposed to be a tie, but she lost her balance and was left hanging on the skinny man. One of her clients felt obliged to help his friend and pulled her by the heels. - Guys, how absurd! - Walid exclaimed and, half a minute later, there he was in the middle of the mess, handing out slaps. - YOU CLASSLESS DRUNKERS! It didn't take much for chairs to fly, glasses and bottles to break, shouting mixed with the music she kept playing, and now it was Evidence. The people who were still drinking at her tables sang along with Chitãozinho and Xororó. But the owner of the establishment climbed onto the bar counter with the shotgun in his hand and shouted: - YOU SONS OF BITCHES, STOP OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE! Valentine poured himself some vodka, pouring the drink slowly into the glass. She took a sip, enjoying the bitterness tearing her throat. She was amused by the man threatening to call the police. Nobody was afraid of the fat, slow Laredo cops. They didn't even use weapons. They were local jokes. The cylinder was always empty. There were no criminals behind bars, just empty cells. The police's strategy was to approach the citizen and talk about the problems he caused to the community, in a good way, without pressure or aggression, eliminating the role of the lawyer and avoiding generating police reports. That was why the fight continued, and the country room was destroyed, with no furniture or bottles of drinks left. Unfortunately for Valentine, this time the police wanted to work. The two police officers entered with a frown. It was the first time that residents saw semi-automatic pistols in place of the teasers. They ordered everyone in the country room to line up along the wall. All! Including Valentine, who was just stuffing his face. - Girl, go to the wall! She sighed deeply and ignored him. - Let's go! Get your ass off the chair and lean against the wall! - Why am I going to mix with others if I was drinking my water happily?