The Gift of Power by Dan McNamara - HTML preview

Jonathan

In LA, the Stewards prosper. Connie is accepted by Rosa and Eileen in the beginning. She sorts through existing staff, gets rid of a couple of questionable gardeners, hires a better chef and overall, takes to the job with ease. She maintains her own home in Calabasas, but stays at the mansion incognito, rarely going out, happy to retire to her room, to read, write, and watch TV. Though her time as a call girl was brief, it was enough to sour her on men and on the relationships and marriages she helped them betray.

There is one exception. It’s a piece of forbidden fruit that she fantasizes about as she satisfies herself during her private moments. It is the Steward son, Jonathan. He had just turned sixteen when Connie arrived. She is captivated by the teenager’s radiant blue eyes, his chiseled jaw, his frame, his pheromones, everything about him.

Connie understands the libido of a sixteen year old boy. She toys with him, but with discretion, knowing anything considered intentional would be frowned upon, to say the least. Her favorite game is to leave her bedroom door open a crack on occasional Sunday mornings, minutes before Jonathan passes her room on his way to the stables.

She sits on her vanity chair with her silk robe open, parts her legs and uses a pair of trimming scissors to shorten her sparse red hairs. She hears him walking down the hall, passing and stopping. She’s amused that he doesn’t realize the silence of his tiptoeing back is a dead give away, that she knows he is peeking in and watching her. She puts down the scissors, pours some lotion on her hands and rubs the creme with both hands up and down her thighs. She stands and rubs the excess up her belly and briefly across her breasts. She abruptly closes her robe and steps into her bathroom, leaving Jonathan in a sweat outside her door.

It is an erotic show she performs for him each frequently. One Sunday, for her amusement, she turns the chair around just enough to prevent him from seeing what she is doing. She knows he is out there, watching as usual, and must be frustrated he is denied the show that has become the core of his new world of sexuality. She sees him several times that afternoon and comments ‘innocently’, “Well, you’re not having a good day, slamming doors, moping around the estate, walking in circles. And you’re not singing today. Is something wrong?”

Jonathan’s face flushes, “No...I...I lost a cufflink, that’s all. I’m fine. I’m fine.” “Oh, that explains you outside my door this morning, you were look for your cufflink.” Jonathan’s head pounds, “Oh, yes, but...it wasn’t there...either.” The following Sunday, she turns the chair back. The show must go on. Two years later, when Jonathan turns eighteen and is preparing to leave for college, he

asks Connie to Sunday Brunch. She is a little uncomfortable with the idea, asking, “What about your mom and grandmother?”

Jonathan beams, “They’re still sleeping. They won’t mind. Come on, it will be fun.” Robert, the chauffeur is surprised by the two of them going anywhere together. He’s uncomfortable with the drive. He is compelled to report anything unusual to Rosa. Rosa is a ‘shoot the messenger’ kind of boss.

In a corner booth at Le Prizzi, Connie lets Jonathan sip on her Mimosa’s, followed by her Gimlet’s. After sharing the fourth one, both of them are feeling no pain. Jonathan slurs, “I know I’m younger than you, but I hava tell ya, you’re the moz beautifical woman I have ever laid eyes on, even evry model, evry actress, Hell Brerry, Jenniver Armnistonin---”

Connie is turned on in spite of or perhaps because of the consequences, but stops him with a finger to his lips, “Jonathan, you’ve had too much to drink. You will meet and fall in love with someone much prettier and younger than I, before you finish school, I’ll bet.”

“No. No, I won’t. There’ll never be anyone but you. Give me a shance, let me sow you I can be a man, I can be your ‘No Tell Lover’, I can---”
“Jonathan, shush.” She moves closer to his side and places his hand on her bare leg, just above her knee, cruelly teasing him. She gazes at him with her emerald eyes wide open, “I do admire the size of your hands, Jonathan. They’re so...big.” Jonathan melts. He bends to kiss her, but she pulls away. “No Jonathan. Not here.” He looks at her with desperate eyes, “Pleeze,”
In the limo, as Robert is signaling the turn into the gate, Connie sips on her Screwdriver from a “ To Go” cup and says within Robert’s earshot, “Well, Jonathan, we will all miss you. Good luck with your studies.” Connie confirms Robert is watching the road as she places her hand on his crotch and kisses him on the mouth. The kiss lasts only seconds, her tongue digging deep into his mouth as she squeezes his firmness in her grip. That’s all it takes.
“Oh my God, I’m zo zorry---”
Connie pours her drink onto his pants and quickly interrupts, “It’s okay, Jonathan, I shouldn’t have brought this into the car. Here, use this to wipe up.”
That ends it. They enter the mansion, each going in their own direction. Jonathan is staggering, loudly humming and whistling, “What a Wonderful World.”
The next morning, Connie frowns as she looks in the mirror, admonishing herself in a whisper, "Quit acting like a slut. You’ve got the gig of a lifetime and you’re risking it for a kid? Grow up." She decides to stop the Sunday shows.
Rosa is outraged when Robert tells her about the incident in the car. Jonathan has already left for college. Rosa calls Brink, “I want her out of here. Molesting my son, I won’t stand for it!” Brink tries to calm her, “I can’t pull her out. She did, ah, something to earn her job. I’ll talk with her. I can assure you nothing like this will happen again.” Brink understands Rosa. He wants her satisfied.
Rosa puts the matter aside. She avoids Connie for weeks until Brink calls a meeting in the parlor one Saturday morning. Rosa, Eileen and Brink are enjoying a sip of ‘tea’ when Connie comes in with a folder of papers.
Brink begins, “Thank you Connie. Okay, time for business. Rosa, Hampton has made a major banking change and as our largest customer, we need you to sign these documents.” Connie hands the papers to Rosa. Rosa notices Connie’s distorted left hand. She looks at Brinkley. She is aware of his practice of digital amputation. Brink is working hard to hold back his grin.
Cruelly amused, Rosa thinks to herself while signing the papers, “I bet she regrets giving him the finger.”
As he is leaving, Rosa pulls Brink aside, “I knew you were going to have a talk with her about Jonathan. I didn’t expect her to be harmed.”
“It wasn’t that. During our talk, she called me a name. Something unacceptable.”
“What name?”
Brink clutches Rosa’s left hand, “You don’t want to know.” He smiles and looks around, "Is there a Chili's around here?"

****************************

Jonathan is gone for almost a year. He returns the first summer, eager to speak with Connie alone. She avoids any communication, even the simplest eye contact. On the first Sunday, he steps quietly into the hall after waiting up all night for this moment. Her door is not ajar as he had hoped. It is shut. He tries the knob. It is locked. He whispers, “Connie. Connie. I need to talk with you.” Connie is sitting inside on the edge of her bed, ignoring his pleas.

He tries to speak with her several more times throughout the summer break and is shunned at each turn. By the end of the season, he has given up all hope.

He returns each summer and over the holidays, never again speaking with Connie in private. He earns his MBA from Harvard and in 2008 takes two years off to live in Europe: Venice, Stockholm, Berlin, London and Barcelona. His social life is endless. His looks and wealth and charm are irresistible. He rejects opportunities to be with gorgeous girls and women of all nationalities almost every night. The dozen times he allows himself a night of pleasure, he learns he cannot perform until he closes his eyes and pictures Connie. Their brief moment together in the limo builds up in his head, haunting him every day.

He takes her picture from his case, “Ah, Connie. What is it? Why can’t I function with you? What will it take to have you?” He kisses her image gently and dreams of another life in which they could be together.

It’s 2010 before Jonathan comes home for good. To Rosa’s delight, he immediately immerses himself into Steward Pharmaceuticals. Rosa has lost interest in the company, acting more as Chairman than CEO.

Jonathan joins her for tea in the parlor, “Mother, I’ve watched you for weeks now. What’s wrong. You seem distant to your staff. I’ve heard rumors you are often seen sitting in your office in a daze.”

Rosa responds, “What? I mean, Jonathan, what rumors could you possibly hear. Employees don’t speak of such things with you, anymore than they would me.” Rosa knows she must stay involved if for no other reason than protect the distribution arrangement with Hampton. But it’s getting hard to stay interested.

“That’s not entirely true. I have my sources, people who care about the company, about me, and about you.”
She snaps back, “And you’re assuming I should care in return? Jonathan, just learn the business. And leave it at the office, don’t bring it to the parlor.”
He is appointed Executive Vice-president and Chief Operating Officer of Steward Pharmaceuticals. He is elected to the Board and soon recognizes his mother’s neglect of the firm. He’s intent on helping her, to relieve her troubles, let her fully retire.
He’s determined to learn every aspect of the business, working nights pouring over sales reports, profit margins, expenses, public relations, government affairs, legal claims, patents, personnel. Rosa shows her appreciation, but continues to drift off a bit further each day.

****************************

The gloved hand punches the security code into the pad, overriding the alarm to the Steward mansion. The man in black enters through the side door that is furthest away from the downstairs living area. It is midnight, quiet and dark inside. The nearest bedroom, occupied by Eileen, who is always asleep by 9:00 is on the second floor. He knows Jonathan is in Chicago on business, so that is not a concern.

He inserts his key into the elevator which rises quietly to the third floor, the location of Rosa’s private quarters. He opens the master bedroom door.
"There you are," Rosa speaks sweetly, "I was starting to worry."
He is carrying a leather bag which he sets on the nightstand and answers, "Hi sweetheart. You look lovely tonight. I like that robe.” He immediately starts undressing, "Get me a little drink, will ya hon."
Rosa pours him a Scotch, straight up, and hands it to him as he rolls his naked flesh onto the mattress. They chat idly for a few minutes, then watch an episode of “How I Met Your Mother”. Rosa is casually fondling him, frequently looking into his eyes, trying to be patient. Finally, he says, "Ready?"
"Sure," Rosa takes off her robe and lays nude on top of the blanket. She is flat on her back, arms to her side.
"You're gonna love this stuff. It's the best." He draws something out of his leather bag, "Only the best for you, baby.” He ties a thin, brown rubber hose around Rosa's right arm just above her elbow. He flicks the largest of the veins swelling in her forearm. He tests the syringe and inserts the needle, injecting her body with the finest heroin in the world.
"Sweet dreams, baby."
“Thank you, Brink. You're the love of my life.” Rosa feels the rush flooding through her. Her mind soars, escaping to the heavens. An image hovers in her sight. It’s her father, Romero peacefully resting, waiting for her and her mother to join him.
This is what she lives for now. This is all she needs.

****************************

Weeks after his return, Jonathan finally gets Connie alone, in the combined storage/utility room behind the kitchen. Rosa and Eileen have gone shopping. Jonathan speaks to Connie with uncharacteristic bluntness,

“Connie, I have given our, ah, relationship a lot of thought. I admit I was enraptured by you, your beauty, your heart. Yet, this is the start of my adult life. I have a tremendous responsibility to my mother, grandma and, of course, my dear departed father.”

Connie shakes her head and feigns clearing her ears as she scoffs, “Jonathan, haven’t you been paying attention for the past eight years? We don’t have a ‘relationship’. We never have and never will.” She is nervously rubbing her thumb across the stub on her left hand, constantly reminding her of the price of disobedience. She walks around him to leave as she adds, “Jonathan, I have nothing to---”

He grabs her and kisses her with a passion that has boiled over, night after night, year after year. Connie pushes him, struggling to break free. She punches him, tries to turn her head away when, without logic or warning, her own pent up desire explodes inside of her. She is pressed against the room’s back wall. She grabs his shoulders, opens her lips and pulls his tongue inside, then pushes it back with her own.

He clutches at her left thigh with his open hand. She twists her body, shifting his hand closer to her fire. They break their mouths away to gasp and then reconnect just as Jonathan’s hand reaches her. She erupts, soaking his palm, her legs give way, her entire being collapses, only to be held up by this beautiful, strong, lustful man. Jonathan moans to her, “I must have you.”

“Yes. Yes. You must have me.” She entwines her left leg around his upper thigh. They never stop kissing, licking, biting as they fumble with inconvenient clothing, He finally enters her, not moving until she thrusts against him. Their bodies move in imperfect rhythm, stumble, pull apart, scramble, reattach, scratch, and finally collapse haphazardly onto the washroom floor.

Neither move for minutes. Jonathan is on his back, Connie aside him, her head against his shoulder, both gasping. He begins to object when she starts to get up.

“Shush.” She touches his lips with her index finger, “We will talk later, okay. Say nothing of this to anyone, promise?”
“Of course not, I don’t---”
Connie presses her finger harder against his lips, cutting off his words. She stands and fluffs her hair, smoothes her skirt and sneaks out, rushing to her room to clean up.
Hw lies still another moment, stepping outside himself, viewing what just happened, edited to perfection. His grin widens, his years of longing for her is replaced by an indelible surge of pure joy. He rises, straightens his clothes and proceeds to his room, delightfully humming Daughtry’s “Home”.

The next morning at breakfast, Jonathan sits with Rosa and Eileen and says, “I’m leaving for Pakistan now, Mom.” No reaction.
“Mom? I said I’m leaving. I’ll be back in a three weeks, not two.”
Rosa returns to reality and reacts, “I know, son. We’ll miss you.” She drifts off again.
“I’ve decided to stop in Hawaii on the way back for a chance to recharge. I’ve got a lot of plans to get started on when I return. We’ll talk then.” Jonathan gives his mother and his grandmother a long hug.
Eileen is concerned, “You be careful out there. They kill Americans ya know. Try to act like you’re from Russia or Poland or something.”
Rosa comes alive again, interjecting, “Mother, he’s fine. Jonathan, this is your first visit to the plant. Be sure the employees know we’re thinking of them, grateful for their efforts.”
Jonathan goes to his room to gather his luggage. On the way out, he stops by Connie’s room and leaves her a ticket under a lace mat on her dressing table, a first class seat to Maui made out to Monique Andrews, along with a matching passport. On the back of the ticket envelope are directions to the hotel, a property map, and an Executive Pass Code allowing her to get settled in her own room without checking in. He sings a verse aloud, “Night and you, and blue Hawaii, da-da-da-da.”
The sun is setting when Jonathan arrives at the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Kapalua, Maui two weeks later. His suite faces the ocean with two private lanais. On the dining room table, he finds a drawing in pencil of a hammock between two palm trees, letting him know where he can find her.
He is dressed in a rich-blue linen jacket and contrasting tan slacks. His Bruno Magli loafers slip onto his feet with ease. He stops at the lobby bar for two Volcano’s and walks into the lush yard bordering the beach.
Connie is swinging gently in a hammock, wearing a green thong bikini and a braided sun hat, finishing a Zombie. She looks up through her oversized sunglasses as Jonathan approaches and grins, “Jonathan, what are you doing here?”
“Is there room in there for me?” Jonathan asks. He sets the drinks on a glass-top table and without warning, throws himself into the hammock, rocking it, nearly causing it to tip, grasping his fingers into the weave to hold on.
Connie laughs, “Whoa. Aren’t you going to feed me first?”
Jonathan kisses her, then looks at his watch and tells her, “There is a five course dinner being served in my room in, ah, twenty-two minutes. I will try to keep my hands off you during our meal, but no guarantees, my Monique.”
“You’re assuming we can get out of this hammock together without a disaster. Poor planning on your part, Mr. MBA.”
“Call me ‘Theodore’.” Their lips lock, their hands grab at each other. The hammock rocks and flips, dropping them both, causing them to laugh in delight as they roll on the grass.
They enter Jonathan’s suite. It’s the only ‘Ritz-Carlton Suite’ in Hawaii: 2650 square feet of space. Connie feels completely free, perhaps for the first time in her life. No one knows her. No one is judging her. Jonathan is enraptured by her, treating her like a woman, not a whore. He’s humming “Pretty Woman.” Connie makes an unintended connection and is amused.
After dinner, while still at the dining room table, Jonathan starts. He stands behind her and, with a mouth warm and moist, begins with her neck while softly caressing the center of her back. He unzips her and lightly scratches her under her shoulder blades, the same way he did the first time they made love ages, or was it only weeks, ago. 
He continues his journey, stopping for seconds to linger on distinct parts of her. He lays her on the table, removes her clothing gently and kisses, licks, and suckles for endless moments, raising her anticipation of what he will do next.        
He can read her. The pressure and movement of his lips are as perfect as if she could kiss herself. Her body soars in sweet convulsion, rising higher and higher with each magic moment.  She explodes, shattering the night with her glorious scream. She has to stop him. She can’t take any more. He knows it as well and brings her body and soul in for a soft, gentle landing. 

They sit on one of the lanais, both in Ritz terry-cloth robes, wine glasses in hand. Jonathan speaks, “ So, I’m in Pakistan, a driver, Mr. Fajid, greets me and drives me in a brokendown Town car to my hotel. The hotel is rated five stars and priced accordingly. My expectations were dashed by the smell of urine, the grit, and the insects rushing under the moldings. I sank into the bed and slept for nine hours after arriving.”

“Did you get laid?” “Connie, I’m not like that. You know that, don’t you?” “Who’s Connie. I’m Monique. By the way, you’re Theodore, but I’ll call you Ted. ‘Ted

and Monique’, Part I’.” They click glasses and laugh. “Anyway, be patient with me, Ted. I’m having a hard time believing I’m with a real man.
Sorry.” Jonathan reaches over and kisses her gently, “I am for real. That you can take to the
bank.” Connie thinks his remark is ironic. “Anyway, the plant manager, a Mr. Bahaar greets me
in the lobby of the plant the next morning. I know him by telephone only. He is a first rate
operator on top of his plant every day. Bahaar says he hasn't taken a vacation in three years.” “So, I visit the various work stations, wanting the people to understand they are important
to the company and the family. I spend hours learning how the plant tracks in the raw material, how quality control is executed, how sampling techniques help assure consistency and purity. I go through their computer systems, shipping and export documents, and packing and loading procedures. I watch as they complete loading an ocean container. By the end of the day, I feel
like I made great headway in better understanding how the operation really works.” Connie yawns, “I’m excited for you. Can we go to Ka’anapali for lunch tomorrow?” “Of course, my sweet. So, as I’m leaving, the last Hampton semi, hauling a loaded
container headed for the US is pulling out of the lot. I tell Mr. Fajid to follow the container to the
port, just to watch it get delivered. It is completely incidental.” Connie sits up and listen for the first time. “We are on the main highway. Mr. Fajid stays a half-dozen car lengths behind the truck
when suddenly, the semi pulls off onto the first exit. I figure the driver has a girlfriend or
something. The driver continues down a secondary road and flashes his right turn signal. I see a
service station on the right and assume the driver is stopping there. If so, I’ll introduce myself
and ask if I can ride with him to the port. But the driver turns onto a dark street just past the
service station.” “So, I ask Fajid to go down the same road a bit. We drive past a number of low-rise
warehouses, all dark. I notice some lights from a building up ahead at the end of the road. The
car stops three-hundred feet short of a fence that surrounds the dimly lit building. I can see the
container backed against the building's loading dock. Two men with forklifts are unloading the
cases.” Connie fakes bewilderment, "What on earth?" Jonathan continues, “I’m thinking, are they stealing the drugs, replacing them with
capsules filled with something worthless. Sand perhaps? I can't see what they are doing to the
cases inside the building. What surprises me is the forklift drivers are reloading the cases almost
immediately. I’m thinking, they must be adding something to the cases? Are they smuggling
something? Weapons? Child porn? Drugs? Bootlegs?” “I don’t trust informing the authorities in Pakistan. I’d be a rich American accusing local
citizens of what? Unloading and reloading a container? So, I figure, whatever these guys are
doing, they have to undo it at the other end. There must be a similar ‘stop’ between the pier in
New York and our distribution center in New Jersey. I’ll get the NY authorities to seize the
container as it exits the Port in New York and inspect its contents before the container is
stripped.” Connie is focused, “You can do that?” Jonathan finishes his thoughts, “I didn’t want to risk spying any longer. I got back in the
Town Car and told Fajid that I forgot, that Hampton sometimes reconfigures our containers to see
if there is more space, to save costs in the future, ya know.” Connie dares ask, “So, what are you going to do?” “I’m flying to LA on Tuesday to meet with my attorney, get a subpoena going, then head
straight to New York to personally meet the container. I’m going to blow this wide open. From
there, I’m going back to Pakistan and press charges against whoever in our company is behind
this.” Connie reacts with feigned sincerity, “Oh, Jonathan. That’s so cool. You are my hero, my
stud.” Connie concludes Jonathan doesn’t have a clue what is really going on. To be certain, she
asks, “What about your mom?” “I’m not going to bother her with this. She’ll appreciate it when she hears about it after I
make the nab. Until then, I’m keeping her in the dark.”

***************************

 

Connie calls Brink on her cell from her room later that night. Brink tells her, “You know what you need to do, right?”

Connie hesitates, thinking about what is going on around her. She likes Jonathan. Likes him a lot. She hesitates a tell-tale moment and says, “Yeah, I know. Look, this needs to be a homer for me. Tell me it will be, what will happen afterwards?”

Brink repeats firmly, “You know what you need to do, right?” Connie hangs up. She understands Brink’s message. She thinks about a possible future with Jonathan, “He’s a rich guy. He’s hot. He’s hot for me. Why not bet on him instead of those creeps?” She rubs the stub on her left hand, deciding, “I have to look out for myself.”
They order from room service again the next night, Jonathan saying on the house phone, “Ah, we’ll take two of every appetizer, four Mai Tai’s and a bottle of 1994 Chave Hermitage.” UB40’s ‘Red, Red Wine’ hums from his lips, matching the steel drums playing from The Beach House bar in the distance.
After making love, Connie lays in bed and tells him of her background, including the killing of her uncle. She leaves out the part about setting up Jonathan’s father, of course.
Late that evening, at Connie’s suggestion, they drive Jonathan’s convertible down the road to an isolated beach near Makena. The night air is glorious. The sky is a moonless planetarium. The road to the beach is deserted. They arrive in pitch darkness. Jonathan asks, “Are you ready for a little snack?”
Connie doesn’t respond. Instead, she jumps out of her seat and runs toward the water, stripping off her beach cover on the way. She’s naked when she reaches the sand. She calls back to Jonathan as he is trying to bring a food basket along and laughs, “Drop that thing and your drawers and get ready for a new kind of surfing.”
“Connie, come back. You know I can’t swim.”
“Just get out here. Trust me, I won’t let you drown.” Connie is up to her neck by the time Jonathan enters the water.
They lock their arms around each other, squirming against in the cool water. They drift out to a ten foot depth, Jonathan doing a lame dog-paddle, Connie pulling him out further, daring him, “Race ya to the bottom. Ready?” She pushes him under, kicking him deeper with her legs.
She swallows a chest full of air and follows him down, reaching him coming up and pulling down on him further to the bottom, her lips kissing his chest and belly. Down they go. She’s above him as she takes him into her mouth, trying her best to bring him total pleasure.
Jonathan is carried away by the eroticism of the moment. He lies back and drifts with her momentum to the bottom. His body is suspended, her lips and hands are stroking him, caressing him. He’s in heaven.
His survival instinct kicks in and he signal her...they must go up for air, quickly. She nods and pulls away, but places her feet on his chest, kicking both legs downward, shooting herself to the top as she pushes him back to the bottom. She breaks through and gasps fiercely for air.
Jonathan is desperate to breathe. He squats on the sandy floor and springs toward the surface. Connie sees him about to surface. She stops his rise with her legs, again pushing him downward. She feels his grasp around her ankles, trying to pull himself, to climb her body to the surface. She almost panics, but thank God, his grip melts. She pushes down on his shoulders a third time.
She is treading on the surface beneath the black sky. She looks back and forth and around a dozen times. “Be certain,” she admonishes herself. She tirelessly dog-paddles, finally concluding he’s down for good. She begins her short swim to the beach.
On the beach, she looks around again, assuring herself no one is in sight. She dons her beach cover and sits on the sand, staring out into the light surf, half expecting him to float in. She waits ten minutes more. She walks toward the car. Jonathan’s clothes lie on top of the food basket left on the ground. With lacquered fingertips, she carefully opens the basket and extracts one of the two wine glasses, and one of the two sets of silverware Jonathan had brought from the suite. The light breeze is already covering their tracks in the sand. She picks up her handbag and walks toward the road, further away from the Ritz, ending a mile inland at the Makena Inn. She checks-in as Constance Torres and pays in advance in cash.
After gathering her effects the next day, she shreds her “Monique” ticket and purchases a flight out to SFO. Once in her hotel in Sausalito, she reads about the “Young, wealthy bachelor disappears in Maui.” Connie is grateful the story is so brief. She says to his photo, “I’m sorry, Ted. You made me happy, would’ve given me anything. Rosa was a problem, though. Brink was a bigger problem. They would have got to both of us. What good is love and wealth to the dead.”
She calls Rosa from her cell, “Rosa, I’m so sorry to hear about----”
Rosa’s voice crackles in response, “You are the last person on earth I want to talk with. Brink is here and is just leaving. I told him to take out the trash on the way.”
“The trash? What do you---?
“You. I want your ass out of my house, out of my sight. I don’t care what you