Chapter 6: Café em Copacabana
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Chapter 6
Café em Copacabana
Sandro slept well, and even after only two or three hours of sleep, awakened excited to
spend the day with Ricardinho. He got up and went into his office to look for important e-Mails, listen to messages and check the weather. He really wanted to take his visitor to some fantastic place on his yacht. Dinner at sunset maybe, he thought. He liked doing things where the paparazzi would be easily spotted, such as the ocean or the country. They really did make him miserable and uneasy. He understood why they would follow a Futebol star around and that they were just doing their jobs. But he lived in fear of them and their ceaseless pursuits. The secret was always in the forefront of his thinking--- except when he was on the pitch, playing the game.
He left Ricardinho undisturbed since he, himself, awakened. He let him sleep and kept it
quiet. Using the wall switch near the deck doors, he un-blacked them so that the sun would enter the great room and dining room. It was almost one o’clock. He thought he should think about getting him up for brunch. He walked, quietly, to the door of his own suite and peered through the sitting room to the other bedroom. Ricardinho’s bed was empty. Retying his robe, he walked across the sitting room and tapped on the open door to the bedroom opposite his own.
“Bom dia, Ricardinho. Como vai você, Querido?”
“Come in… I’m at the desk.”
“Have you been awake long”, asked Sandro?
“Não. Apenas cerca de trinta minutos. Isto é tudo. E você? Você dormiu bem?”
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“I slept like a fat, happy baby! I caught myself waking up with a smile on my face”, said Sandro as he reached the desk and placed both his large, warm hands on Ricardinho’s broad shoulders. He had “water hands”, like Ricardinho’s ex. Like those of President Obama. Long, thin, agile fingers. He liked the way Sandro’s hands felt in this waking-up conversation.
“I’ve been online for the last half hour or so. I’m just checking in on Lazlo and the dogs and the house. E-Mail.”
Ricardinho swiveled slowly in his chair being careful his robe didn’t get in the way--- his knees being bracketed between the, standing, open, hirsute thighs of Sandro. As they faced each other, Sandro replaced his hands on Ricardinho’s shoulders. He caressed them, very gently, while they each looked into the eyes of the other. Their scents danced off each man, as their breathing gently quickened from the exhilaration of the silent glances and affectionate touches---
both of which, for each man, had long been absent until now. This reconnection to intimacy proved that they had not just awakened from a pleasurable dream. It was real.
Ricardinho reached up with his left hand. He laced his fingers through the hair on the side and back of Sandro’s dark, chocolate mane and pulled him, tenderly, near. Again, their lips touched. It was just as beguiling as those kisses of the night before under the moon and until the rising sun. Neither man had any uncertainty that they were on a voyage to something so satisfying, and hugely essential, that they sensed the way they both felt in the moment couldn’t be anything less than destiny!
Ricardinho wrapped his forearms around the hamstrings of Sandro with a firm grip. It wasn’t too tight. It was only just tight enough to prevent himself from slipping off the chair as his head became dizzy in the blissful closeness they savored.
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Sandro waited for Ricardinho to end the kiss before he spoke. “Carinho”, Sandro shivered as he realized that he had used the “L” word just then. “I mean Querido”, he blushed like that embarrassed teenager again.
“What”, asked Ricardinho, as he attentively glided his hands up and down Sandro’s
impossibly full and firm cAlves? Sandro’s knees buckled just a little, under the touch of his
guest. He was grateful that Ricardinho knew exactly how to touch a very hairy man without
tickling or pulling hairs annoyingly. The firmness was firm enough and in just the right amount. “It slipped out. I have been very careful not to call you ‘love’ or ‘honey’ or ‘baby’ or anything that would scare you off by coming up too soon, or seeming too insincere or glib. I’ve only been calling you ‘darling’.”
“I noticed that and I really appreciated the self-possession. Thank you.” “De nada, Querido”, he smiled.
He leaned down and kissed Ricardinho with three short smooches on the lips. Ricardinho reached into his right robe pocket and pulled out a long box, wrapped in the signature, gold paper, gold ribbon and ivory card and envelope. These were the markings clearly belonging to the Montblanc brand. He had the store manager down in Shreveport, drive the piece to the house, a few days before he got on the jet. It was the Nicolas Rieussec watch with the black, alligator-skin strap.
Sandro was shocked, actually, that someone had a gift for him! A, nearly, eleven thousand dollar gift, at that.
“Oh, my God, Querido! This is too much!” Sandro said excitedly. I cannot accept this from you. We’ve only just met.”
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“Don’t be like that Sandro! It’s a token of my gratitude! For your friendship these past
couple of months--- which feel like a year, by the way! And for sending the jet. It’s not like it’s a Rolex Presidential or anything. I really hope you’ll take it. Besides, I don’t give, or receive, a Rolex until quite a bit more time has passed in a friendship. But, before you say no again, there’s something else. Just don’t say no--- not yet! It’s just a token! A memento.” “Querido! I don’t know what to say. People come to me to pick up gifts. Not to leave them! “Well while you’re in a receiving mood then, here’s this.” Ricardinho said as he pulled another box from his left pocket. “It’s very practical! You can’t refuse it!”
Sandro opened this second wrapped box and pulled out the most beautiful, classic Montblanc pen.
“It’s the “Paso Doble Bleu” Fountain Pen.” Ricardinho pronounced happily. “When you mentioned you lived on the ocean, I thought you might like having a little “bleu” in the penthouse, not just on the beach.”
“That is really thoughtful of you, Querido. I’ll use it on all my contract signings!” Sandro said, as he leaned in for the, most tender, of the sweet kisses they had shared all night, so far.
“Thank you, darling.”
“You’re welcome, Sandro. It’s my pleasure.” Ricardinho purred. “It’s almost time for brunch. Are you hungry?”
“Sim. Eu sou o tipo de fome”, Ricardinho replied.
“Bom! Do you want to shower first or are you ready to eat now?”
“I’d like to clean up first. What should I wear? Are we going somewhere today?”
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Sandro placed his palm onto the top of Ricardinho’s head. “I’d like to spend the afternoon on the water with you today if that’s OK. After brunch, we can go to the boat and have some time to swim and sun… Não e?”
“That sounds beautiful.”
“And dinner and a nice wine at sunset?”
“I can’t think of anything that could be better! I’ll be at the table by two o’clock then.” “Great! See you in a while. Oh! I got the coffee you like. You want a Cuban café con leche?”
“Si, por favor! Perfecto! Mediano con dos! Gracias!” “You are not in Cuba!”
“I know.”
“I know you do! Um beijo?’
“Of course”, said Ricardinho as he gave the kiss requested. “Thank you for asking.” “I’ll be out in a while.”
“I look forward to it” said Sandro as he adjusted his robe and headed back to his suite to get showered and dressed as well.
The penthouse was coming to life with the scents of Esmeralda’s culinary skills. She moved, from surface to surface, surveying all the dishes she had prepared. There was Linguiça sausage, Pão de Queijo (cheese buns), roasted vegetables, couve (collard greens), moqueca de peixe (fish stew), papaya, pineapple, orange wedges, baguettes and butter, cold cuts, queijo fresco (Brasilian cheese) and white rice. Sandro always insisted that the staff be served the same food he eats, so Esme cooked in large amounts to be sure that everyone got fed. The early risers had already
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eaten their breakfast down on their own floor in their apartments. They would all be very happy to have this meal for lunch though.
Beto was busy preparing mimosas in large, chilled brandy snifters with passion fruit juice, which he garnished with edible dendrobium orchids, and an orange slice. The staff were not permitted to have cocktails during work hours, so this they wouldn’t sample. On holidays, however, Sandro was a generous and excellent host for his staff. He’d often throw a party for the staff and their families on public holidays. Dia do Trabalho (Labor Day), Independence Day and his legendary Natal party for Christmas. On Christmas Eve, he would set up pop-up restaurants on the beach where the less-fortunate could come to have dinner. He has always remembered his good fortune and never hesitated to share with others. It was his nature.
“Good morning Mr. Richard”, Beto crooned attentively at the passing and nodding man. “Bom dia”, Ricardinho made his way across the Great Room to the deck door. Sandro appeared behind him, placing his hand at the small of Ricardinho’s back. “Hey, You”, he purred.
“Would you like to eat outside”, he asked, as he pressed on the door opening pad? “Yes. It looks like a beautiful day!”
“It’s always a beautiful day with this view… rain or shine.”
Esmeralda and Beto loaded the cart to bring the meal, and Mimosas, to the table. Beto had already placed fresh linens onto the table for the day, so the table was set and dressed with elegant Simplicity. The men took their seats--- Sandro in deep profile facing away from the street. He was always on alert--- especially during daylight hours. He picked up the remote
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control and blacked out the glass that ran the length of the deck. He then clicked another button and the mango and white awning unrolled to cover the length of the deck as well.
João, with Franko close behind, approached Sandro’s side of the table. Franko was busy walking the deck, checking for security problems and surveying the street below. “Senhor? Do you still want to go out in the yacht today?”
“Sim, João, obrigado. I think our guest will enjoy the views and a swim.”
“She is waiting at the dock, fueled up and ready. Where will you go?”
“I think off the shore of Ilha Grande near the Parnaioca Beach side of the island. There is so much history there. It should be pretty quiet out there today, não é?”
“Sim, Senhor, on a weekday. I think so. I will let the Captain know.” “Muito obrigado, meu amigo.”
“De nada, Senhor. The car is ready as well. Beto and I took the ingredients for dinner to the boat this morning. Esme will ride the Dinghy out at seven o’clock to cook the dinner meal---but there are snacks and drinks already on-board.”
“Perfeito, João! Obrigado”, he gratefully offered. João, discreet as he is, already knows
how important this day on the water is to the boss. But there are many details involved in
taking a national treasure outside the safety of the penthouse. João and Franko are prepared. During this logistics chat, Esme had served the plates and placed them on the table. She
stood back as Beto, again, draped the napkin on first Ricardinho’s, and then Sandro’s lap. “Esmeralda! Everything looks and smells amazing”, chirped Ricardinho admiringly!
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“Obrigada, Senhor. You are very kind”, she smiled proudly. “Bom apetite, Senhor”, she said as she returned to the kitchen to finish the dessert course, leaving all possible concerns in Beto’s capable hands.
“Not to rush, Senhor, but we should leave by three-fifteen, in order not to miss the sunset, yes?”
“Good idea.”
“Obrigado Sandro. We’ll be ready. Enjoy the food Senhores”, he smiled.
Franko and João nodded their understanding of the day’s requirements and went inside---leaving the men to dine in peace.
“I am sorry, Querido. Thank you for being patient. Eat! Please do not let it get cold!”
“I enjoyed watching you all making the plans. You’re sexy when you’re running things”, he sang as he lifted his snifter to toast ‘The Panther of all Panthers’.
Their glasses clinked and they took a sip of this amazing champagne and passion-flower nectar concoction. It’s thickness inspiring, both, men to lick the remnants from their lips. Seeing each other doing so, made them chuckle to each other aloud.
“Do you still like to swim in the sea?” “Yes
I do, I think! It has been a long time.”
“Well then, Querido, today is the day to do it. With me.”
All the wheels were in motion with the staff, both men were dressed and they ate their meal in a deliberate, yet relaxed, way. Sandro’s heart was nervous about being out, in public, with another man. The locals, though, would have probably thought nothing of it as long as there was no visible public display of affection. PDA was out of the question for the time being. He couldn’t seem to calm his nerves down. The mimosa will help, he thought.
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Their feet rubbed against each other’s gently beneath the table once or twice. They looked into each other’s eyes and smiled as they ate. Sandro’s smile was guarded. It wasn’t his carefree look. They dined and chatted. Sandro was happy to be sitting across from this man, though slightly distracted.
He was happy, but anxious. Unlike the secret, unseen sex he had with occasional men in private--- this was about to be very public. It might register in the minds of people with their
Gaydar in check! This was all a first for him. It could be very challenging for gay men in Brasil. Not so much in Rio or São Paulo, but those men had their privacy and they were not known by the entire country. Sandro jumped a little when he heard the lift motor click on and rattle a little as it traveled up the shaft. Ricardinho did not see this.
Suddenly, a pair of Red-Cap Cardinals landed on the deck. Sandro gently flipped a spoon of rice to them which they ate. Ricardinho was impressed by the nearness of the birds. Sandro took another sip of the Mimosa.