Her chest heaved at the reminder.
“Britney and I will get out of your hair tomorrow.”
That instantly brought back my annoyance. “Where are you going to go?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not leaving.”
Her response was a deeply burrowed frown. “What? Are you going to stop me?”
“As you’ve rightly pointed out, if anything happens to you I might be blamed. Therefore, to protect my interest, and until these problems are resolved, you’ll remain here with your friend where you can be more easily protected at all times.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but then shut it. “My head is a mess. I have to think about this. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Fine.”
She hesitated. “Goodnight.” Then she turned around, and exited the room.
I picked up my mug of chamomile tea and took a sip. It tasted of nothing and it fucking burned my tongue. But I didn’t care. She was under my roof now.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Freya
There was fresh cream cheese, bread, and bagels for breakfast. It immediately brightened my morning, but Britney was still quite shaken and silent. She picked at the crust of her bread, and barely touched the aromatic drip coffee Mariah had made for us.
“He’s really rich, isn’t he?” Britney eventually lifted her head and said.
I was just so happy that she was speaking. She had been too quiet, and for too long. “Yes,” I said as I took a look at the regal dining room we were in. The walls were lined with famous modern artworks. The priceless old master paintings were all locked away in safes. Lalique lights illuminated the room.
“I mean look at that kitchen,” she said in an awed voice.
Through the door, we had an almost picturesque view of the bright, exquisite kitchen. From the granite workspace to the beautifully sleek appliances, imported marble walls, and hardwood floor. It was a space that was so different from our own apartment that it was impossible not to marvel at its grandiosity.
“Yeah, a great kitchen is a wonderful thing. When my mom was alive we lived in a different house than the one we have now in Moscow, and you should have seen what she did with the kitchen. My dad was horrified for a bit and then he just let her do her own thing. It was pink and emerald green with a bit of white granite here and there. I loved it, but after she passed my dad didn’t want to remain in the house anymore.”
“You never told me how your mom died,” Britney said quietly.
I brought my gaze to her despondent, brown eyes. Now was probably not the best time to tell her about it, but I didn’t want to ignore her either.
“She was poisoned,” I answered shortly.
She looked shocked, then her eyes began to mist. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s alright.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “It was a long time ago. My father found out who was responsible and let’s just say he died a terribly painful death.”
Britney went quiet again. “I finally figured out why Levan looked so familiar.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “His family was involved in a huge case with the former acting DA, Sarah Dale. She accused Levan of kidnapping her grandson and he was thrown in jail for a little bit. But then she later changed her testimony, and said that her grandson was kidnapped by some mafia guy. He was never found, but his minions were, and thrown in jail.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah, it was big news then, but we didn’t care,” she laughed sadly. “We were still bartending at The Dead Rabbit.”
I smiled, and realized this must be the case Bianca referred to when she told me how she and Levan had reconnected.
“We have to send $800 for the rustic ring sample by noon. The stackable one with the green stone,” Britney said, bringing me back to the present.
“I thought we found a cheaper supplier for the rustic sample. You said he agreed to $450.”
“Well I haven’t heard from him in three days so I think it’s safe to assume that he’s bailed on us. $800 is the cheapest we can get so far. The design is quite intricate.”
“Yeah,” I responded.
She bit her lower lip. “And the rent is due this week. $750.”
I could feel my face dropping. The rent was my responsibility, but without my bartending job I only had a tiny amount saved in the bank. I needed a job like yesterday. No matter what happened I was going to find myself a job today.”
“I have some savings,” she said to me. “About $600. Not much but it’ll help. Perhaps I should get a job too.”
“Nah,” I refused. “Wasn’t our agreement. If we both work, the business will be even slower. You handle sales and media and everything else in between while I handle the bills. Has Barneys reported any sales yet?”