“Do I have to spell it out?”
“Oh, you mean the sex.”
I swallowed hard at the sound of the word on his lips.
“Yes, the sex.”
“Please, don’t be, Angelica.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re the boss. I feel like a naughty schoolgirl.”
Max laughed out loud. His eyes danced when he looked at me.
“Okay, so we had a little fun on my birthday. I swear I don't think any less of you as a professional or a person. Can we start over? Please?”
I smiled. Max was determined to put me at ease.
“That sounds fair. My friends call me Angel, by the way. Angelica is way too matronish. And, yes, before you point out the irony of that statement, I agree.”
“Angel, we’re good. Now eat your dinner,” he said and winked at me.
“Fine. But only because you’re paying,” I grinned back.
Max and I discussed work after that. It was all business. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was back in control. Max was my boss, and I was his kickass lawyer. Life was good.
He dropped me off at the office after dinner.
“Thank you for a lovely meal, Max.”
“My pleasure, Angel.”
I got out of his car and walked over to mine. Max waited until I was safely inside my vehicle before he drove off.
Day one, done and dusted.
6
MAX
My flight left LAX at 8 am on Thursday and landed in Moscow at 2 pm on Friday. I hated sleeping on a plane. Fortunately, I spent my eighteen hours of confinement in first class.
One of Grigoriy’s men was waiting for me at the airport. Neither one of us was too chatty. My erstwhile sponsor surrounded himself with people who didn’t ask questions. They simply did as they were told and left the thinking to their boss. An excellent sentiment when it came to survival in the Russian Mafia. A loose tongue ended up on the wrong side of the talker’s throat.
The driver pulled up outside Grigoriy’s mansion. A butler wearing a black suit and white gloves stood at the main entrance to the magnificent home. He nodded when I got out of the car.
“Welcome back, Mr. Mikhailov,” he greeted stiffly.
“Hello, Igor. Thank you. You’re looking well.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
With the pleasantries out of the way, I was shown to my room where I could freshen up.
“Mr. Yegorov is expecting you in the drawing room at 6 pm, Sir.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sure you’ll have everything you need, Sir. Please, make yourself comfortable,” Igor announced before he left me to my own devices.