Loses weren’t for me to take, not sitting down.
The elevator dinged at the top floor. “Let’s have fun, girls,” I said as we walked into the lounge foyer, “It’s all on me.”
The lounge wasn’t thumping with bass music like it’d been downstairs. On the stage below were a pianist and a blues singer, both creating the perfect background music for the chatters, clinking glasses, and popping champagne bottles. A blue crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and the giant paned windows let in the brilliant night view of the city and the sky.
The best table was tucked at a dim corner of the VIP section, between two giant windows, so it could feel like you were floating when you sat there.
The lounge was exquisite. The windows were open in a thin slit in the middle so the breeze and some of the sounds of the city could get in. Paulina, Sam, and I sat there for dinner, laughing and catching up with news of their lives.
Mattis Blanch was the manager of The Red Place. He was the guy that knew everyone around town, the charismatic guy that had enough guts to hold a stare. If anybody were going to interrupt the table of a VIP client, it’d be him.
Him coming with bad news.
“What?” Paulina elbowed me. The frown on my face was piercing as I watched the smiling brown-haired man approach my table.
He used that cheap smile to sweep around the table, holding everybody’s eyes for a second before settling on me. “Good ev—”
“What is it?” My voice was sharp. Mattis was handsome, but he wasn’t the fine bottle of wine I’d ordered for my table. The waiter bringing the wine was coming up right behind him.
The apologetic look came first, before the piercing, embarrassing words.
“I sincerely apologize, Katya, but this table was reserved, and the person that reserved it is here.”
The silence in my ears was instant. Paulina and Sam exchanged looks, then looked at me wearily.
I almost burst out laughing. This had to be some kind of joke.
The waiter arrived with the wine and was about to open it to fill our glasses; it was an old bottle of Catalan white wine. Mattis stopped him with a hand and took the bottle.
“Truly, I am sorry for this mix-up. I know it can’t make up for it, but please accept this bottle of wine as a gift and the dinner as well.”
The waiter got the tip and expertly tucked the bill away.
I wasn’t going to make a scene. I wasn’t some cheap girl from Manhattan riding off her father’s back. I was Katya Petrenko, the heir of the Petrenko family.
Still, my smile was stiff. “Of course.”
“Ok…” Sam said hesitantly, locking eyes with Paulina. They were talking without speaking, and I could understand everything.
There really was no need to be worried. There was a difference between being dangerous and being unhinged. One did not equal the other.
“Hand the wine back to the waiter. I don’t need you to follow me.”
The instant relief on Mattis’ face was not mistakable. “Of course.”
“But who is it?” Paulina asked Mattis as we headed back for the elevator. I didn’t ask. A part of me felt like it already knew, but that was only a hunch, and I’d give plenty of things for it not to be right.
That cheap smile stood by the elevator as we got in.
“I’m sorry, Miss Fritz, but I don’t give out customer information.”
Despite myself, I said aloud, “I don’t care. It’s fine so long as it’s not Alessandro Sorvino.”
As the elevator doors closed, I didn’t miss Mattis’s widened smile.
Chapter 3 - Alessandro
There weren’t a lot of places in this city that were worth anything. Most of them were overpriced dumps that people made too much noise about.