Charlie
It’s becoming too comfortable.Every night I leave the deli after getting the deposit ready for the bank, then head out when Viktor arrives to take me home. Viktor drives me through the bank so I can drop the deposit, then he takes me straight to Nikolai’s condo. I check in with Joey or Silvia, whichever one is closing for the night, but everything is going smoothly.
I’ve even hired another part-time worker—a high school senior who lost her job at the brick stone sandwich shop down the block that Nikolai had shut down. If business keeps this steady, I might be able to pick up another full timer, too. Not that it will ease the discomfort I feel about the other employees who lost their jobs because Nikolai shut down the shop in order to create more business for mine.
My father wouldn’t like the way this has been handled, but he’d be grateful for the business. If things stay like this, like they used to be when I was in high school and Dad and Mom ran things, I won’t have to worry about shutting the doors. I won’t have to consider their dream failing.
“Where are we going?” I ask Viktor when I realize he’s passed our street and is coming up on 91st.
“Meeting Nikolai. There’s a bag on the floor back there with your clothes. You’ll change when we get there,” Viktor tells me, then maneuvers around a stalled car. It’s Friday night, my feet hurt, and I probably reek of the vinegar I spilled on my shirt this afternoon.
“Where are we meeting Nikolai?” I pick up the bag and rifle through. It’s the black dress he picked out for his father’s birthday party along with shoes and a jewelry box. When I open it, and the string of diamonds stares back up at me, my mind blanks. This necklace could pay off the mortgage on the deli and my car loan with change to spare.
It’s too much. I snap the box closed.
“What? I’m sorry, Viktor, I drifted for a second. What did you say?” I lean forward to give him my attention.
He gives me a side eye, the one he gives me on nights when I’m exhausted and worked late. “I said an associate of Nikolai’s is having a party for his daughter’s birthday. He wants you to meet him there.”
“Another party?” I look down at myself. “Viktor, take me to the condo. I have to shower. I spilled red vinegar on myself, and I stink. Not to mention my hair’s been tied back in this ponytail all day. I look horrible. Not even that necklace can make me presentable.” I shove the bag back to the floorboard.
“I’ve already told him we’re on our way.”
“I’m not going like this,” I argue. “Turn around and take me to the condo. I’ll shower and get ready there.”
He looks at me through the rearview mirror. “He’s expecting you.”
“For the love of…” I mutter and lean back against the leather seat with my arms folded over my chest. “I think he wants to humiliate me. He’s going to end up embarrassing himself, having me there stinking of vinegar and looking like this.” I clench my jaw. There’s no talking to Viktor once he’s been given his orders. No one overrides Nikolai’s orders.
“Why would he want to embarrass you?” Viktor asks, and I can see the disbelief in his expression through the mirror.
“I don’t know. Because he likes it?” The man does everything he can to make me blush when we’re alone at night. There isn’t a part of my body he hasn’t become best friends with, and he’s always blunt about his ideas of what to do with me—no matter how vulgar.
“He has hurt you?” This time, his voice hardens. Maybe there is a crack in the control Nikolai holds over his men.
“No.” I won’t lie.
Viktor shrugs. “Then you have no reason to worry.”
A few minutes later, Viktor pulls through the gates of a house that looks more like a small university. I’m too busy pressing my face against the window to admire the architecture of the building to notice that he’s stopped. A moment later, Nikolai appears at my door.
I grab the bag just as he opens the door and puts his hand out for me.
“Nikolai, maybe I should go home first. Let me shower—” I’m ignored though, and he wraps his hand around mine and pulls me out of the car.
“You can shower here,” he says, gesturing to Viktor then shutting the door. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are stoic.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him as he pulls me up the steps. Two large men are perched at the front double doors. One of them nods to Nikolai and the door opens for us to pass through.
The interior of the house is as magnificent as the outside. I’m not an expert on architecture by any stretch of the imagination, but this place belongs in a magazine. The high ceilings of the foyer, the arched entrance ways, the marble flooring—it all looks like something out ofThe Great Gatsby.
I’m not given much time in my admiration though; Nikolai leads me to the swirling staircase. Music plays from somewhere deeper in the house and for a moment, loud chatter escapes the party. A door must have opened, then shut.
“Nikolai.” I yank my hand from his grip as soon as we’re at the top of the stairs, forcing him to stop and look back at me. “What’s wrong?”
He arches a brow, and this look reminds me of the first time I questioned him. Standing in his dining room, demanding answers and him trying to understand how I could have the audacity to do it.
“You need to change.” He walks across the massive hallway to the first door. The leather soles of his shoes click against the tiles of the floor. The golden light from the sconces on the wall casts a shadow across his face when he turns back to me.