The interior of the stretch Lincoln was plush black leather. The air was frigid and it felt exhilarating after the humid midday heat. The car smelled faintly of foreign tobacco and ultra expensive perfume.
The sudden darkness made me nearly blind for a moment but there was no mistaking the contours of the woman who sat across from me.
"Hello, Jaime," she said warmly in her softly Spanish accented English as her driver, a giant black-suited Spaniard, shut the car door behind me.
"Aunt Vivian," I acknowledged from the rear-facing jump seat. "How did you find me?"
"In Kenwood?" she laughed, "It wasn't difficult. What would you be doing in this part of town, I wonder?"
"I guess you'd know Chicago, wouldn't you?"
"Why would you say that?" she asked defiantly.
I replied with a grin: "Your reputation precedes you."
She smiled back at me and looked me over; I took the opportunity to do the same to her.
I felt the intense jealousy I'd always felt for my Uncle John tick up a notch. How could he have ever convinced a woman like Vivian to marry him?
She'd been a fashion model in Buenos Aires in her youth. Her father's connections to organized crime had given her notoriety; her beauty had given her the tabloid headlines and the opportunity to get famous. Time had been extremely kind to her. Her celebrity may have faded but not her looks ... and certainly not her notorious reputation.
"Good! Then I don't have to be vulgar and threaten you now, do I?" she said with a sly grin.
Her hair was long, still raven black, twin braids tumbling down either side of her face to frame her almond eyes. Her lips were full and soft looking, no age lines to mar them. Even her full natural breasts defied nature and remained as perfect as any woman could hope for.
I took in the classy long brown legs stretching from beneath the hem of her short black slip dress, letting my eyes follow the curves of her thighs and calves until they reached her thin elegant ankles and the ankle-high boots she wore.
Unlike her daughter, Ginny, Aunt Vivian apparently liked jewelry. She wore large Andean style turquoise and Lapis earrings and a thin diamond drop necklace dripping with diamonds ... money, money, money. She was dressed for an evening out ... not business.
"How 'bout them Cubs? World Series for sure, huh?" I asked to fill the silence.
She smiled at me like she would an obnoxious child. I ignored her; I guess I was beginning to develop a tolerance for disdain, maybe even asking for it, it only seemed fitting considering the mess I was in.
"Drive North, Andreas," Vivian said into an intercom mounted near the rear window.
I let my eyes resume wondering over her exotic features, a bounty of races blended into a glorious genetic soup, the mixture somehow creating the beauty she wore like a crown.
I drank it in, seeing her daughter Ginny in every nuance of her features. She had managed to pass on all of her best qualities to her daughter in abundance ... despite my prick Uncle's contributions.
We pulled out onto the interstate before she spoke again.
"How have you been?" she asked.
"Fantastic."
How did she think I'd be?
"Really?" she asked, her tone suspicious.
"How's Ginny?" I asked about her daughter mainly to deflect her question.
"I'd have thought you'd ask about your sister first," she responded.
"Touché!" I laughed.
The last time I'd seen my sister, I'd literally fucked her stupid, in the very chapel she was getting married in a few hours before she was to take her wedding vows. I hadn't taken it easy on her body - or the dress. Vivian had been the one to put Tabby back together in time for the ceremony ... to cover for our incestuous indiscretion.
"But, since you asked about my dear Genevieve," Vivian continued, "I will tell you that she has ... changed. She is nearly as much of a wreck as you are. Her scores are suffering terribly and she is unruly, though unlike you she's managed to keep up appearances."
I'd spent Tabby's Honeymoon fucking Ginny in a suite Vivian had rented for her in Vegas for the wedding. I wasn't sure if Vivian knew about that - but chances were that she did - and chances were that this surprise visit was a result of it.
"I got news for you; Ginny's always been unruly."
She lit a long brown cigarette and blew the sweet smoke at me. It definitely wasn't entirely tobacco.
"It came to my attention that you are having troubles as well ... me picó la curiosidad."
I hadn't found the will to go back to my classes after Tabby's wedding and I'd passed the time steadily spending my dwindling college fund on strings of very cheap strippers and very expensive booze.
Vivian was 'connected' after all - it made sense that she'd have had me checked out.
"Don't we all?"
She shifted in the seat and handed the 'cigarette' to me. The top of the dress was severely low and her bare breasts were plainly visible from different angles when she moved. I didn't try to hide my leers as I puffed.
"As for Tabatha," she took it back and puffed again before passing it back to me, "She's doing well and fulfilling her marriage vows."
She paused to gauge my reaction. I put on a poker face and waited for the punch line.
"I hear the guy she married is the largest shareholder in Tomler Oil. That was a good score for her." I had to say it. The hurt had made me angry and seeing Vivian only brought the intensity of it all back into sharp focus.
"She's going to have a little girl," she smiled like a cat, "Did you know that?"
There it was.
"I didn't think that old fucker would have any good sperm left." I said sarcastically to cover the sudden intense pain that shot across my chest.
"Not likely," she replied, watching me again. "but I'm sure that yours are healthy."
"You don't mean ...?" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"I'm positive."
Vivian was implying that I was the child's father.
"Don't worry ... she's fine."
She put a hand on my knee to calm me, anticipating my question.
"Tests were done. She will be smart, beautiful, and happy. Not to mention that she will grow up to inherit considerable wealth ... we should all be so lucky."
"You can tell all that from tests these days, huh?"
Vivian grinned at my jest. At least she had a sense of humor.
My heart fluttered in an intoxicatingly strange mixture of joy, pride, and fear as the reality began to sink in. I'd never imagined I'd father a child with my own sister - although now that I considered it ... neither of us had gone particularly far out of our way to prevent it either.
"She has already chosen a name for her ... Vivian! Isn't that sweet?"
"A phone call would have sufficed," I said, feeling a tingling sensation creep up the back of my neck and a wave of chemical euphoria slide across the back of my eyes ... definitely not just tobacco.
She blew the smoke at me again.
"You understand that my family has some interest in her well being?"
She meant her Father's side of the family.
"And an interest in keeping me away from her. I got it, okay?" I tried to hand the cigarette back to her but she waved me away, "That's why you put Ginny on to me."
"You think I'm so wicked?" she asked, "Do you believe that I would I put my own daughter in such an awkward predicament?"
"You wouldn't?"
"You are mistaken," she looked out the dark tinted window, "As you pointed out ... Ginny has never been under my control."
I shrugged; I guess now I could believe that Ginny fucked me because she wanted to.
"Now the question I have to ask you is this: What do I need to do to help us get past all of this ... nonsense between the three of you?"
"I'll give you three guesses," I taunted her; I never was able to pass up a chance to be an asshole.
She flipped her perfectly tended hair over her shoulder and absently let her legs fell open a bit, treating me to a view of some of the most sexy flesh in the Western Hemisphere.
"I need to know," she insisted, "what I can expect from you."
I didn't have anything to lose so I went for broke.
"Spread your legs like that a little more and I'll show you."
She looked at me like she would a puppy that'd just pissed on the carpet.
"Not what I was hoping for," she stated, "I thought we could be friends after I've brought you such wonderful news."
"Ignorance is bliss."
"True," she shrugged and pointed at an ashtray in the handle of the door; "You've had enough of that ... It has certain effects in high doses."
I leaned over and stubbed out the smoke and looked up her dress in the process.
"And enough of that," she laughed and crossed her legs demurely.
"Why are you toying with me?" I asked abruptly, paranoia creeping around the edges of the cottony comfort trying to smother my brain stem.
"What do you mean?" she asked coyly and twirled a braid through her fingers, her gaze a smoky sensual look so well practiced and so subtle that it almost looked innocent.
"It wasn't necessary for you to travel half way around the world to tell me I'm the father of Tabby's baby now, was it?"
"Perhaps."
"No, I think you want to know what I got that makes your girl so fucking crazy. Maybe you want to try a little bit of this action too?" I suggested.
I don't know why, but I was determined to piss her off, throw her off whatever game she was trying to play with me.
"Maybe I should put you out of my car?" she replied.
"You won't, though. Will you?" I laughed.
"I wouldn't?" she challenged in return.
"Then you'd never get what you came for."
"You are a child," she said abruptly, "I gave you too much credit."
"Seriously, why are you fucking with me, Vivian?" I asked again.
She reached for the com but I grabbed her wrist and twisted her face up to mine.
I don't know why I was suddenly so angry. Maybe the drug, maybe the fury I felt at my Sister's betrayal of our love, maybe the perverted lust for my slutty Cousin that consumed me and kept me awake at night?
I pulled her close and glared into her eyes.
"Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you too!"
"¡Basta ya!" she warned.
"Let's get it over with so I can get back to the bar before Happy Hour, alright?"
She had different ideas.
She twisted her body away from my grip and pulled my arms straight in the process. Before I could think to react, she suddenly and gracefully wrapped her legs around my arms and head so tightly that I heard cracking noises in my skull.
"¡Perro!" she spat, before releasing me by kicking me back into my seat with one solid thrust of her sharp heel to my ribs.
My mind reeled and I felt a sudden need to throw up ... I hoped it was the smoke and the beer I'd drank for breakfast and not new brain damage from her leg hold on my cranium.
I rubbed my chest and grinned at her to disguise the embarrassing fact that she'd just kicked the shit out of me.
She laughed a gentle practiced laugh at my discomfort.
"Let's try again, shall we?" she asked in a tone that implied the request was an order.
