“She’s concerned. As are we all, I guess.”
“You don’t think Angel’s going to get all patriotic on our asses, is she?”
“Who the fuck knows? Perhaps if she’d do me the courtesy of actually talking to me, I’d know where I stand.”
Vlad looked at his watch.
“Okay, well, I’d love to hang around here all day and play 20 Questions, but someone has to keep the wolves from the door,” he said, slapped me on the shoulder, and walked toward the door.
“I’ll call you when I’ve spoken to Angel.IfI speak to Angel.”
“Sure thing. Chat later.”
Vlad left and I got on with my day. I called Angel’s assistant and asked her to call me as soon as Angel came in. I checked the time every half an hour. By 11 am, I knew I was farting against thunder. Clearly, Angel was taking the day off.
I called her on her cell phone, but she didn’t answer. I was getting angrier by the hour. Who the fuck did she think she was, anyway? Ignoring me like I was a fucking peasant. I was her boss!
Hey, you’re the one who bullshitted yourself into thinking that mixing business with pleasure wouldn’t be a problem. Guess what, genius. You fucked up.
It was true. I did a stupid, stupid thing when I decided to start things up with Angel. But, to be fair, in hindsight everyone had 20/20 vision. I knew the risks, and I went ahead and did it anyway. I had no one but myself to blame for the shit storm I was in.
Fucking Grigoriy and I.
Come on Max. Don’t be a pussy. Fly over there and take care of the asshole. You’ve seen it done plenty of times before. You lived in that world once. Remember? You know guys who would be only too happy to silence Grigoriy for good.
The voice in my head was as clear as a bell. Tempting. No one would suspect me. I knew some ball-busters who’d love to get their hands on the man who’d killed some of their friends and loved ones without batting an eye.
I could take out a hit on the fucker who was making my life hell. But was I that guy? Did I want my son to grow up knowing that his father was a common killer? My father did many unsavory things for Grigoriy, but he drew the line at murder. I was my father’s son.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t hurt him enough to distract him so that I could get the hell out of Dodge. It was certainly something to think about.
By 4 pm, I’d had more than enough of my crappy day. It was time to go home and drown my sorrows in food and drink.
The house was so quiet. Damn it all to hell! I was perfectly happy in my beautiful home, with my multi-million-dollar business before Angel came along and made me want more. I reached for the fridge door and saw the picture of my unborn son in the top right-hand corner. He was just a blob to my untrained eye, but he was real.
And, I had no idea where he and his mother were at that moment. The empty feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that I was nowhere near okay with that.
“Please, Angel. Call me,” I said out loud as if the universe would pick up my words and carry them across the airwaves to wherever Angel was.
I opened the fridge, took out a bottle of ice-cold vodka, and celebrated the versatility of the potato–the king of vegetables.
27
ANGEL
It took me a few blinks and an eye wipe or two to remember where I was when I woke up. I slept well, surprisingly. I guess the sheer exhaustion from the day had gotten the best of me because once I hit the pillow, I was out like a light.
Prince Bump was still in dreamland, or wherever unborn babies went when they were asleep. At least he didn’t wake me up with his rhythmic hiccups. I was worried the first time I felt him gyrating about inside me, so I called the doctor. The nurse had a quiet chuckle when she told me what it was and that it was quite normal. How was I supposed to know?
I picked up my phone and checked my messages. Mom had sent me a good night message with a heart emoji. She was so sweet. She was honestly as excited, if not more so than I was, about my pregnancy. I felt sorry for her. It must have been such a blow when the doctors told her that she and Dad would never have their own baby.
Mom had suffered through fertility treatments for years before she and Dad decided to adopt. I’d always thought that adopting a child was a very brave and noble thing to do. I didn’t know if I would be able to raise someone else’s child. Which was ironic, seeing as I was adopted. But, I was grateful that they were there for me.
It was just past 8 am and I was hungry. The thought of eating breakfast alone in my room was just too depressing, so I got dressed and went downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant. The place was humming. There must have been a convention of sorts happening; I could tell from the blazers, nametags, and loud, excited chattering.
I sat down at a table away from the action. The last thing I wanted to listen to was the rah-rah sales talk on Tupperware or Avon. I was a useless salesperson. If I wasn’t one thousand percent besotted with a product of any description, I couldn’t punt it for shit. That’s probably why I settled on law.
“Good morning, Ma’am,” a handsome young waiter greeted me. “Can I offer you something to drink?”