Streetlife

94 - Curious

STEF POV

"So you strike me as a fancy guy, you know, always dressing up in suits and shit. Ever just wear jeans and shorts?" I ask Michael as he sips his glass of wine and laughs at me. I had not seen him since we fucked at the Palace, and man did I have some questions to ask him. I figured I'd be straight with him since I always had been. "Ever let loose besides in bed?" I smirk as he smiles at me and straightens his tie, for he had taken me to a really nice restaurant over by where I lived.

"I have been known to wear shorts from time to time. Rarely."

"Yeah? Like when you're with your kids and playing in the park? Or bbq'ing with your wife?" I ask as he looks right at me and I raise my eyebrow. "I'm sure you don't wear a suit when you're at your kids' games."

"Cats out of the bag, huh?"

"Yeahhhh. What? Don't trust me enough to tell me you're married?" I sip my beer as he blushes some and grabs my hand rubbing it.

"No. I trust you. It wasn't about not trusting you, sweetheart. I'm just a very private man and leave my home life at home."

"Your wife doesn't give a fuck you bang all these women and are a pimp? Like she's okay with that?"

"Let's just say we have an agreement. I do my thing, and she does hers. And well, I keep my children out of it as well. I provide the life she likes, and we live our separate lives," he says as he straightens his tie again, and I can clearly see he's uncomfortable. But I don't give two shits. I should be pissed if anything, for at least I was honest with my women.

"So what's the point of being married then? I mean not that I know shit about it, but if you are always here, isn't the point of marriage to be married? Spending time together or something?"

He smiles at me and takes another sip of his wine as I wait for his answer. "Yes, the point of marriage is to spend time with your spouse. But some marriages function differently. I visit on Sundays and leave Mondays."

"Well, I guess your wife has someone she's banging too. Seems fair to me, don't you think?" I laugh as he laughs as well.

"If so, she keeps him out of my house. Because he probably wouldn't walk again," he jokes. "And things change in marriages, sweetheart. Especially after being with the same person for many years. Gotta switch it up."

"How long have you been married, Michael? I mean, seems to me either you picked the wrong woman, or I don't know. To me, marriage is for life and being honest."

"We got married when I was 18, and she was 16. And I had about a dime to my name. But I don't know if I agree with you there, sweetheart. I think that sometimes, you see another person that is for you, too. And well, it works for me and her," he says, amusement now in his eyes.

"I bet you were cute," I flirt as he blushes.

"I'd like to think so. I was a skinny guy, but you know I held my own. I ran a restaurant with my uncles. Started as bus boy. Moved up. Had children, wanted to make money, and be you know, in charge. Wanted multiple streams of income. A desk job wasn't gonna do that, nor was working the restaurant."

"Can I see photos of your kids?" I ask as he looks at me and his nods his head. Pulling his wallet out he hands me a little plastic booklet as I gently grab it, seeing a handsome young boy as I look up at Michael.

"First one is Michael Jr, then my son Anthony, and my daughter Antonia."

"Your sons are handsome like their daddy, and your little girl is a cutie," I smile, handing it back to him as he nods.

"Thank you. But, sweetheart, in my kind of work you don't mix family. That is, unless your wife is in it with you."

"Is that what you wanted, Michael? Your wife to be in it with you?" I ask as he lights his cigar and clears his throat. "Or am I getting too fucking personal because I don't know, not that I wanna be a wife, but I mean, I wouldn't wanna sit at home all fucking day and do nothing. I want to see how shit runs and run it with him."