#overrboarrd: from scratch

[keyaho]

“𝙸𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍; 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.”

Formality

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: foul language

co:writer - @zillasvilla

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"They told us to hurry up and now we're waiting on them." 

Joseph stood on the stairs to the private jet. Randy was leaning against the open door, fingers in a can of salted almonds. Both Naira and Ziva were still on their phones while shuffling the kids into one car so their mother, Vanessa, could watch them. Hassan was having a moment, clinging to Ziva as she kissed the side of his cheek. 

"Let them get on the plane before we piss them off." 

It took another ten minutes, but Naira and Ziva finally boarded the jet so they could leave. Randy pulled Ziva towards the back, pushing her into the bathroom. He cupped her face in his hands and brought his head down to kiss her. 

"Maybe you should have worn the dress," he mumbled. 

He started to unbuckle her camo pants when she popped his hand. Randy scoffed and straightened up, towering over her in the small bathroom. He grabbed the bottom of her white crop shirt and pushed it upwards, lips kissing along her chest. The black lace of her bra was pulled down as Randy palmed her other breast in his hand. 

"What did you do," she asked through clenched teeth. 

She wanted to push his head away, but found her black acrylics holding him in place, enjoying the way his mouth moved. Ziva knew Randy like the back of her hand. His sudden need to get frisky didn't go over her head. She knew he pushed her in the small space for a reason. He released her pierced nipple with a soft pop, his blue eyes landing on his wife's unamused expression. 

"Gimme a kiss first," her asks, puckering his lips. 

"Randal." Ziva says, pulling down her shirt after fixing her bra. "Where are we going?" 

The jet jerked slightly. She almost lost her balance but Randy held her still as they took off. "And why couldn't I bring Hassan?" 

"I need your full attention these next two months. I-" 

"What did you just say? Two months? Randy! Where the fuck are we going?" 

"Calm down," he replied. "There's some business we need to take care of and," he says, as she rolls her eyes and looks away from him, "I need you there with me." 

"Oh," Ziva snaps, "you need me to play wife? For who?" 

Randy scratched his chin, a move she knew to be him stalling and trying to find the words to say. “You’ll get to meet everyone.” He grimaced. 

“Who is everyone Randy?” 

“Mark and Michelle are two close friends. It’s bad enough I didn’t tell them I was married or had kids. The least we-’

“We?” Ziva asked. “I don’t know them. You made the decision to not tell them.” 

She tried to move him to the side so she could leave the bathroom when he stopped her. Randy turned her around, his stern face. 

“I know this isn’t what you want to do, but we’re here. You’re going to go with the other wives while we handle business.” Ziva opened her mouth to protest when he cupped her jaw in his hands. A warning. “I’m not playing.” 

“Fine.” 

“That’s my girl,’ he kissed her forehead, and she huffed. "You know I will make it up to you." 

".....but I'm not staying two months without my son." 

Randy's eyes rolled towards the ceiling as his head rolled back. Ziva reached up and smacked his neck. Instinctively, his hand came down on her ass. 

"I don't want Hassan around any of these people." He says. "He will be fine." 

"Randy, be so fucking for real right now." 

His mindset was shifting. She knew when he was in work mode. That's all he thought about. The only difference this time was him dragging her along to play nice. It had to be serious if she needed to be there and away from her son.

"And let me out this damn bathroom!" 

Ziva tried pushing him again and he stood there, arms folding across his chest. "Ziva."

"I'm not just going to-"

"After this first week I will have him flown out for the weekends."

Appalled, Ziva matched his posture and looked up at him. "You're not going to use my child to keep me under control." She let out a frustrated laugh. "I know you aren't…." 

"I'm not doing anything. I'm telling you what's going to happen." He pulled Ziva to him, lips right at her temple. "I'm going to take you shopping…" 

"You told me to pack for the beach." 

"And I saw what you packed." He winks. "But, I'm going to need you to dress a bit more," he trailed off, "bougie." 

Ziva shook her head. "I should have never taught you what that word meant. You've been around the shop too long." 

"Keep the bathing suits. You know I love seeing you in as little fabric as possible,'

"You sleaze.." 

"I'm being serious." He sighed. "Just get through this with me." 

"Hassan is here every weekend." 

Randy rubbed his hand down his face. 

"You already said you would," she huffed, "he's three years old." 

"You have to stay in the house with him." 

Ziva scoffed. "We're not negotiating how I spend my time with my son." 

"We aren't leaving this bathroom until we kiss and make up." 

He leaned against the sink, blocking the door and handle from her reach. Ziva shrugged and folded her arms across her chest. 

"I'm….sorry," he whispered. He had a feeling he'd be saying that for the next few weeks. "I should have told you what this weekend was about. Especially after Jillian and John showed up at the salon." 

Her hand had healed from the slight bruising, but if she didn't have to see those terrible blond extension again she'd be fine with it. Randy looked away. 

"Est-ce que cette garce sera là?" (Will that bitch be there?)

"You know I lose it when you speak French to me." He placed a hand over his heart, a toothy smile on his face. 

"Réponds-moi!" (Answer me!) 

"Embrasse-moi d'abord." (Kiss me first.) 

“You’re not kissing your way out of this one, Randy.” She sighed. “I wanted to spend time with you. At home.” She pouted. "With our son. We haven't had family time in weeks." 

He'd been on the road for the past few weeks, doing more shows and boosting the talent backstage. The time away from Zva made her clingy, needy, and if he sat still long enough he would forget what it meant to have personal space. She followed him around the house and did whatever she could to hog his attention. It made getting work done slower, but they all knew if Ziva was happy, then Randy was happy. Most of the time. 

Randy had been in the bathroom a while and since he didn't hear any yelling and screaming, Joseph took it as a good sign. He sat across from Naira who was scrolling on her phone. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, the sudden clamminess catching him off guard. 

"Those two huh,' he laughed, then coughed as Naira glanced up at him. "I need to tell you something." 

Randy and Ziva were known to go off and fuck on each other. She figured since it was quiet down the small hallway they were either arguing and he was trying to keep her calm or they were in fact fucking on each other and Naira honestly didn't care. 

"About what?" Naira pursed her lips. "It had better be 'we're turning the plane around'  because otherwise I do not care." Joseph opened his mouth, but Naira waved him off. "You told me we were going to the beach as a family. Now that I'm on the plane you want to tell me something. Please, give me strike two." 

He worked his jaw. Her little strike system was the bane of his existence. He'd ran out of strikes before and she would ice him out and spend more time with Jey. 

"We're headed to Texas for two months. I need you to be on your best behavior,' 

"I know you aren't talking to me like I'm a child, Joseph." 

"I want you to understand." 

"I'm not stupid, but you're taking me for a fool right now." 

He made a lot of decisions when it came to their family. Him and Randy had a nasty habit of making decision without their input, especially when it concerned the kids. Making them leave their children behind, and hiding it, was one of those shitty decisions they sought for forgiveness for. However, as Joseph liked to remind her, she knew what she was getting into marrying him. That didn't mean it wasn't upsetting. She was sure Ziva knew the severity of making a decision like this. They were pulling rank. 

"What's happening in Texas?" Naira gleaned down the hall where the bathroom was. "Is that why you split us up?" 

Joseph scowled. "No, but you two feed off each other and I need my wife, not Ziva's sister." 

"If you two were honest-"

"You wouldn't have gotten on the plane. Hell, you wouldn't have gotten in the car to leave the house." 

"I don't like the lying." 

"I know,' he began, just to be interrupted.

"And we do not feed off each other. We compliment each other." 

"No, you cosign each other." 

"Look, Joseph,' Naira sighs. "Sebastian is eight months. You want me to miss two months?" 

"We knew it would be a big issue, we calculated,' he explained, "...so we," 

"Lied." She shrugged. "You both lied to get us here and now you're trying to placate me. Then you separate me from my sister so you two could break the news and not have us turn this jet inside out." 

"When you put it like that,' Joseph trails off, "we had a decision to make." 

"And I've made mine." 

Naira looks down at her phone with a tight smile. Joseph leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. 

"What does that mean, Naira?" 

Silence followed. The bathroom door opened and Ziva walked out, angry French rolling off her tongue as she snatched up her purse and sat in one of the seats by the window. Randy followed out behind her. He went to sit beside her and she cut her eyes to him. 

"Don't play with me right now. Take yo'ass on over there with your best friend."

The Calaway Estate was a fixture in Death Valley. It was the epitome of luxury and bespoke. Though the last time Randy and Joseph were here, the older couple were preparing to move locations to be closer to0 the ports and several acres of land Mark had acquired during a turf war. The large estate's driveway was filled with cars and they noticed how Naira and Ziva sat up, silently preparing themselves to go inside. It had taken a long talk at the hotel while they showered and changed their clothes. A lot of talking. They knew enough about what their husbands did to understand the importance of this trip, but it didn't mean they were enthused about it. When the car stopped, Randy and Joseph both got out and opened the doors for their wives. 

Ziva's face was partially covered in a pair of large black shades and when Randy reached to take them off she pushed his hand away. Sliding out of the car, she grabbed her purse and phone, glancing down at a massage from Tiffany. It was a photo of Hassan taking a nap after lunch. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips then disappeared when Randy tapped her phone screen. 

Randy hated her attitude, but he much preferred it over the silence. 

"I told you he'd be here this weekend." 

It was a huge safety concern having his son there. He knew Joseph felt the same about Sebastian. But, their wives were over protective mothers. 

"We talked about this in the hotel. Ziva I nee-"

"I know, Randal damn." She replied. "Stop talking to me like I'm a child." 

Ziva fell into this life quickly and realized that Randy was controlling and this world was about control. He'd leverage what he could for it and that included their relationship. Nothing was healthy about dating a man like Randy. Between his job and demeanor, it was easier to agree with him than argue and most of the time she would concede. Except when it came to the care of Hassan. That was her domain and as much as Randy loved his son, Ziva wouldn't tolerate his bullshit when their child was involved. He knew he fucked up even suggesting he stay at home for two months. The compromise was weekends, but his wife wasn't so easily placated. He noticed she had replaced her wedding ring with a canary yellow pear cut diamond from one of her old collections. It was her second favorite ring, though not from his personal collection. Ziva always carried it with her. She had left her sapphire in the hotel room. 

"I need you to play nice."

"If anyone says some shit I don't like-"

Randy cut in, hands on her waist as he pulled her in to disarm her. "I will handle it." 

When he saw the protest forming on her lips he shook his head. "You don't have to say anything." 

"Oh,' she shook her head, "I get it. Speak when spoken too?" 

"No." He snapped, his patience running thin, "don't reply to the foolish shit." 

Naira grabbed Joseph’s outstretched hand. She couldn’t mask the scowl she had on her face at Joseph taking her phone during the call with Jey and Sydney. They had sent pictures of him during tummy time at one of the local libraries. Naira immediately video called them, to see  Sebastian pushing up on his hands and knees to crawl towards the phone. The new milestone had her agitated that she was here trying to play fake nice instead of with him. 

“Be good and I’ll have Sebastian here this weekend.”  

“You’re not bribing me with my child.” Naira scoffs. “A child that is only eight months and actively breastfeeding.” 

The most she’s been away from her son was only a few hours, to have time for herself, and to oversee the construction of her playhouse location Bloom. Joseph knew his wife was postpartum and did his best to always keep her happy, but with situations and events it was going to be a lose-lose situation. He hated to leave his son behind, but with the group of people they were about to be around, he refused to have him here.

Joseph nudged her legs open and stepped in between her legs. He grabs her jaw to direct her attention on him. “I’m only gonna take so much of your attitude sweetheart.”

“N-”

“I’m talking, you’re listening.” he taps her nose, pulling the black square metope shades off her face. “I’ve put up with your nagging and the damn strike system.” Though her eyebrows were arched in frustration and anger, he could see behind those brown eyes that she was having a bit of separation anxiety. 

“It’s business. You’ve done it before and now is no different, so lose the attitude before I give you a reason to have one.”

Michelle had been updated on Randy and Joseph coming and the two guests they were bringing with them. They had to be special, knowing the last time she saw the both of them, they were just starting out in the business with little focus on a relationship. While Mark had been hosting everyone else inside, she decided she would stand in the grand foyer to wait for the late arrivals. She could hear a car pulling into the driveway and opened the front door to lean against it. She saw Joseph and Randy get out, but the doors blocked the two women with them. She knew she would like them by the way a pair of platform Versace heels arched back to kick Randy in the shin. 

When the doors closed she was greeted with the sight of two beautiful women and she wondered how Joseph and Randy pulled them, not that the two men were ugly. Their wives were just gorgeous. 

She met them halfway, her arms open, but before she could get close to hug her friends, Randy's wife spoke up. 

"We don't hug." 

After the run in with Jillian, blond women weren't her cup of tea. 

"Z,' Randy whispered, his hand on the small of her back. "Michelle, this is Ziva, my wife." 

From the expression on Joseph's wife's face, she knew one thing about the attitude of the new additions. They had no idea they were coming here. Michelle knew the look and when she was younger it was the same one she gave Mark when he made decisions for them on his own. Then expected her to deal with it and play nice. 

“This is, Naira.” Joseph’s hand was around her waist, his long fingers squeezing the soft flesh, urging her to speak. 

Skipping the small welcome speech she had planned, Michelle gestured to the front door. "Let's go in and get settled. Mark is in his study." 

"Is there tequila?" Ziva asked, pushing from Randy's arms and walking ahead of their hosts. "Bourbon. Vodka? Something?" 

"Of course, there is a full bar and the other ladies are already waiting." 

Joseph placed a quick kiss to Naira’s cheek, whispering into her skin to ‘behave’  before following behind Randy, who tried to give Ziva a kiss only for her to push him away. Naira knew she would be pumping and dumping tonight, and made a beeline to the open bar for two shots of whisky and a vodka cranberry.

If she had to pretend to be nice to these women, she might as well do it with some liquid courage. 

When they were out of earshot, Randy turned to Michelle. "They will come around. They're more mad at us." He explained. 

"Oh I know," she waves her hand. "Just don't make the mistakes Mark made when he was bringing me into the fold."