《Kaiba's Prostitute》Chapter 56: Tacos
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Chapter 56: Tacos
Mokuba went downstairs through the painted tropical jungle and found the others, including Joe and Tamara, already feasting on a mountain of tacos. Dimitri waved a hand at the kitchen counter. "Help yourself."
"Thanks!" Mokuba grabbed a couple of tacos and plopped into a chair beside his bodyguard.
Dimitri handed Mokuba a cold beer and waited until he had taken a few bites before opening, "So, I have to admit that I'm rather uncomfortable with Joan's weird relationship habits since I was raised Christian and taught that all those things were wrong, but a lot of my beliefs have changed over the years, and so I want to understand more about the whole situation."
"Uh, OK."
"First of all, Joan never struck me as the type to date someone for money. She's dated some pretty weird guys, but never for money. I'm trying to figure out what changed."
Mokuba shifted in his seat as he remembered that Joan had mentioned a client before him and Seto, but perhaps Joan had never told Dimitri about that one. He decided to respect her privacy. After all, he could only speak for himself and Seto. "Well, Seto and I are demanding a lot more of her time than Marc is, and she was worried she wouldn't be able to hold down her old job, so we pretty much have to pay her if we want to keep seeing her."
"But initially, did you coerce her into it or something?"
"No. If anything, she coerced me into it. She really wanted to date brothers, so she offered me a discount after she settled things with Seto."
"Wait, how much are you paying her?"
"I don't want to know. Roland handles my finances, so I don't have to know."
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"That's actually kinda sweet," Jessica said. "So you're really OK with her dating your brother and having Michael, and Marc, and whatever she's up to with André right now?"
"It's weird, but I guess when you really love someone, that stuff doesn't matter."
"Really? Where do you draw the line?" Dimitri pressed.
Mokuba thought hard on that one as he chewed. The more time he spent with Joan, the more his comfort zone expanded. "That changes every day."
"How so?"
Mokuba didn't want to give them the graphic details, so he started from square one. "When Seto first started having prostitutes brought to the mansion, I was really disturbed by it, even more so when he was cold to the ones who tried to overstay their welcome. But then I got used to it. The women were there to do a job, and the ones who didn't harass him afterwards came back sometimes. I started to consider one for myself, but the thing is that I wanted the extra affection and companionship that Seto rejected. So when Joan showed up at my office and I saw how she was acting with Marc, it all clicked together and I decided to give her a try."
Jessica chuckled. "The way she fawns over Marc is something else. I mean, obviously she does that to you too, but how do you know she means it and she's not just doing it because you pay her?"
"I guess I'll never know for sure. I'll just have to trust her."
"She's a good person to trust," Jessica said. "She would never intentionally hurt anyone, but sometimes intentions aren't enough. I once knew someone who knew someone who was a stripper in college, and she intended just to get through college with stripping, but she wound up hooked on heroin, and-"
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Joan popped into the kitchen with André and started grabbing tacos. "Hey! What'd I miss?"
Jessica's eyes darted to her food. Dimitri leaned back innocently. "Mokuba was just telling us more about how you met."
Joan pulled a chair close to Mokuba's and nuzzled his bicep briefly. "About the bicycle?"
"No, about the truth. We don't need that fabrication anymore."
"Sweet." Joan bit into a taco.
"Fabrication?" Dimitri asked.
Mokuba explained their initial "pretending" phase and how they'd used that story on Duke Devlin. Their conversation drifted onto other topics and, all too soon, Joan had to leave for the airport. She hugged everyone goodbye, and her friends insisted on hugging not only Mokuba but the bodyguards as well, wishing everyone a safe journey.
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