Page 2 of Mistaken
“Yeah, he’s definitely that,” she agreed.
“And I was dumb enough to get engaged to him.”
“Who’s stupid enough to get oral sex from his secretary while on a Zoom call with his fiancée?” Tania said, shaking her head in disgust. It was one of her finest talents, the immediate outrage when I was hurt and then her ability to cheer me up. We’d been best friends since we were ten, and she was the social butterfly who dragged me out of my own cocoon, kicking and screaming.
Tania is watching me with concern now, which is almost worse than her pushing me to be an extrovert. “Honey, I know that assface broke your heart, but he does not deserve the mourning period you’ve given him. I’m not telling you to take a guy home - only because I know you won’t - but… just dance. Have a cocktail. A lot of cocktails,” she amended. “Flirt a little and remember that other men find you attractive and charming and blah, blah blah.”
I’m laughing, “Isn’t this the speech I give you every time you get your heart broken?”
“Ah, ah!” Tania corrects me. “They never break my heart. They just…” she tried to think of the right explanation. “They irritated me.” She laughs at my look of skepticism. “It’s not like I was ever going to marry Mikal theartiste, who squatted in an abandoned building to ‘live his art,’ except for when he was clearing out my fridge and perving after my cousin. But you? You’re all sincere. You’rechoosy.”
“You’re too good to me,” I’m still laughing at her description of me, but it really is the truth; sheistoo good to me. Tania moved to Manhattan with me, even though she worked from home and didn’t need the extra expense and hassle of downtown. She brought me takeout during the endless days of finishing my Ph.D. And she was the only one in the audience for me when I graduated.
“Men are trash,” she said, “but I’m your wing woman until you find one you want. As long as we’re outside of your apartment and away from your freezer full of ice cream cakes. I’ve gained fifteen pounds fromyourbreakup.” Oh, please. Tania’s a curvy, bouncing ball of energy with wild brown hair and golden-brown eyes. Men always gravitated to her first.
“Fair enough,” I sighed, getting out of the Uber. The line to get into this club had to be two miles long. “But can we hit another place? Somewhere that isn’t clogged with Instagram influencers and second-tier soccer players?”
“No way,” gloated Tania, “we’re on the list, baby! I stole my boss’s invitation to the grand opening tonight!”
“Uh…” my steps slowed, “your boss Marcel? The one you think is involved in insider trading?”
“I was just joking!” Tania protested, “Probably… anyway, what do you care? You’re one of the Beautiful People tonight!”
The club was amazing, I had to admit; four floors, two celebrity DJs, chrome and suede booths, and stupidly expensive cocktails. And three of those overpriced Mojitos later, Tania and I were swirling on the Trance Floor, my arms waving above my head like seaweed and feeling so good about myself.
Oh, wait. Now Tania is grinding up against some Wall Street guy and I am apparently on my own. “I’m getting another drink,” I shouted at her, and she waved, nodding. But I knew I couldn’t peel her off Mr. $2,000 Suit just for a cocktail.
Leaning over the polished mahogany bar, I tried to get the bartender’s attention, but he was flirting with the hot guy four stools down to notice.
“One Mojito and a Glenlivet,” a deep voice growled behind me as my back nearly felt scorched by a wall of body heat. Like magic, the bartender hustled down to me with my drink in one hand and a bottle of alarmingly expensive Scotch in the other.
“Here you go, Mr. Morozov,” he stammered, carefully pouring the drink into a square glass.
Angling to the right, I looked up, and up, and up some more to stare at this giant’s face. The guy wasbuilt- not like a lot of time in the gym built - but like he was born this way, with a broad chest and thick arms in his clearly expensive and custom grey suit. Dark hair, high cheekbones, tasty full lips. But the eyes… this guy was trouble. Twinkling blue eyes, but the twinkle looked tarnished and he had the flat gaze of a predator.
“And for you, darling,” he said, bending down to speak to me as he handed me my Mojito.
“How did you know I was drinking Mojitos?”
The giant chuckled indulgently. “I might have been watching you for a while.”
How did this man make a compliment sound like a threat? He was still smiling with a shark grin, like he wanted to eat me up as he put his hand was out. “Maksim Morozov.”
He was examining me closely, like he thought the name should mean something to me, maybe he was one of those second-tier soccer players?
“Ella Givens,” I managed, gingerly shaking his hand and stifling a little girlie noise when he lifted my hand to his lips to kiss it lingeringly.
“You are quite beautiful, Ella Givens.” His voice was gorgeous; deep and rumbling through his chest, and his tinge of a Russian accent was pretty sexy.
So I smiled back. ”Oh, you sweet talker. Well, thank you for the drink, Maksim. I should go find my friend-”
He nodded over my head. “She’s dancing with a friend of mine. They look cozy.”
I turned to see Tania giggling as Mr. Wall Street snaked up and down her body. “Yeah… that would be her, all right,” I sighed, taking a gulp of my Mojito. “So, is this your first time here, too?”
He laughed. It was condescending, even though he was clearly making an effort to be pleasant. “Oh, no.Gehennais my club. Why don’t you join me in the VIP lounge?” It sounded less like an invitation and more like an order.
“That’s really sweet, uh, Maksim, but I have an early morning.” I took another gulp of my Mojito, hoping to get it finished and thus become my excuse to leave. “I’m going to have to drag my girl off your buddy there, so…” Rubbing my stinging eyes, I asked, “So, what does the nameGehennamean?”
