
Later that evening, Hal asked him how it had gone with the mark. "You slept with him, right?" He demanded.
Marshall nodded. "Actually, I did sleep with him, but we just slept."
He gawked at him. "What? Wait a minute. You just slept?"
"That's right. We slept," Marshall smiled at him.
"What in fuck are you smiling about? Why didn't you seduce him?"
"The timing was wrong. We talked."
"Talked?"
"Talked Hal, talked. He told me to work out my problems with you or he was going to fire us both. So there," Marshall threw him a haughty look.
"What about a house job?"
"There aren't any house jobs," Marshall replied. "There appears to be two servants which I'm sure are more than enough."
Hal nodded. "I see. That can change. I'll take care of it. Now get your butt back up there."
"Tonight? And say what? He's not going to let me stay there again tonight, Hal."
"Yes, he will. Tell him you want to talk. Tell him you feel comfortable talking to him. Tell him you are suicidal, anything. Believe me, I know his type, he has too much heart to turn you away if you put on a good show. Not to mention that he's horny like any other guy."
Marshall hesitated. "But Hal..." he began.
Go on!" Hal urged.
Marshall sighed. "It's dark, Hal and..."
"Go!"
Marshall walked along the road again in the dark, certain he was going to meet his doom on this damned road. Somehow he made it to the gate, but of course he couldn't be sure Angelo was even in the house.
He waited and a few minutes after he arrived, he saw the man who was there when he first came to the house, the man who worked with the horses. He was coming out of the barn and Marshall called to him.
"Senior ... Senior?"
The man peered at him and waved.
"Eu gostaria de falar come Senior Farelli..." he called out. He had no idea if that's how you said you wanted to speak to someone, but it was close enough to make the man nod and run up to the front door.
A minute later, he saw Angelo come outside with the man, who was now pointing down the road to the gate.
Angelo immediately came walking down the road. He had on black pants tonight with a white shirt which he wore, open at the collar. As he drew nearer, the expression on his face didn't look exactly pleased.
"Marshall, what in the world..." he demanded.
On impulse, Marshall rushed into his arms, pretending to cry. "Help me ... talk to me ... I need to talk to you."
Angelo put him gently away from him and searched his face. "What is it now, Marshall?"
"I just need to talk. I've really messed up my life. Please, come for a walk with me?" He looked up at Angelo with pleading eyes.
"It's not safe to walk around here at night. Come on, we'll talk out on the back terrace.
"Where is your grandmother?" Marshall asked as they approached the house. Angelo walked around the path and to the back, Marshall at his heels.
"In bed. She gets up very early. My uncle is on a business trip in Sao Paulo."
"Ah, I see."
Angelo took a seat on the terrace in a huge overstuffed patio chair. He indicated the other chair and waited until Marshall sat down before he spoke. "Marshall, I think you need to distance yourself from this Hal character. I don't know what I can do for you. Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No. Wouldn't do any good, Angelo. I really think the best thing would be if I could work in a separate place where we can't see each other. Maybe if he thought I had ... another lover or..."
Angelo lifted his head and looked at him. "You don't mean me, do you?"
"Well, I don't mean you would actually have to ... I mean even if he thought it."
"Absolutely not!" He said, standing up.
This had been the wrong move. It had ended up insulting him. Marshall lowered his head and pretended to cry. "It's quite unbearable. I've had such a horrible life and now this. I don't know..." his voice broke, "how much more I can take."
Angelo was about to say something, when suddenly a chilling scream sliced through the night.