#modernverse

That makes you laugh, “It’s all a bit…silly. I mean, I’d fantasize about, like, material stuff when I was – you know. I guess it was the mark of my freedom, if I had these expensive things it meant that I had a different life.” 

Oz smiles warmly, kissing your temple, “What kinds’a expensive things.” 

“Handbags, shoes. Got really into the idea of a Burberry coat a few years ago.” 

“Jewelry?” 

“Oh yes. Dresses in every color to match.” You kiss his shoulder, “And perfume, skincare. Cigars.” 

“Now you’re talkin’ my language. Y’ever smoked one?” You shake your head. “C’mon, let’s go to the patio.” 

You can’t help a smile and he takes the lead, giving you a hand to help you off the couch – of course you take it and you let him lead you out. 

Oz holds the French door open for you. Your patio area has enough light that you can see Oz clearly, the view made all the brighter by his lighter. He puts a cigar in his mouth, one he’d clearly been working on, and lights it before taking out his cutter and a new one. You watch as he snips the thing and hands it to you, “Don’t inhale it all’da way. Ain’t like a cig, you’ll get real nauseous,” he instructs. “Little, shallow puffs.” 

You nod as he lights the cigar for you, trying to follow his direction while still getting the thing lit. 

It’s heady in a way that cigarettes aren’t, much stronger too, but you’ve never minded the aroma and it tastes even better than it smells. You try not to take too much of it in your lungs, trying to imitate the way that Oz and Sir Crocodile puff at it. 

You do get it after a few minutes. Oz asks you what you think and you smile, “It’s nice, I’m a little worried my hair’s going to reek, though.” 

Oz laughs, “We can run ya a nice bath. Wash your pretty hair. Glad you like it, maybe we should have a tasting. Find which ones you really like.” 

“Love both those ideas,” you smile. Maybe you could even get Oz to sit with you in the massive bathroom; you always liked having him close by. 

“Anyway, make me a list of things you want. Email it to me –” 

“Email?” You giggle. 

Oz rolls his eyes but smiles, “Text, whatever. Get me your list so’s I can get’cha the list.” 

“It doesn’t have to be all of it.” 

“Carmine pays me good, don’t worry ya pretty little head.” 

You blink – this is the first time he’s mentioned his boss, who you assume is a boss boss. You can’t resist your next question: “What’s he like?” 

“Who? Carmine?” 

“Yeah.” 

Oz is silent for a moment – you almost feel like you shouldn’t have asked. Then he clears his throat, his tone no less light, “He’s just like da rest’a these guys. Like Sir. Organized, demandin'. Wants what’s best fa’the Family.” 

Sir, the man who owns the massive estate that Oz has you staying in, never struck you as demanding, but you assume he seems that way over more than just dinner conversation. 

Oz continues, “All goes well, you won’t hav’ta deal with him.” He sounds like he’s speaking more to himself. 

“You don’t want me to meet him?”