Page 50 of Mistaken
He’s cheeky, I like this guy. “You probably shouldn’t say that if you want your head still attached to your shoulders, sadly. And call me Ella.”
“I’ll be calling you Mrs. Morozov because I do wish to keep my head. I’m Patrick Walsh, the Pakhan’sObshchak.”
I happen to know what that means, thanks to my Wikipedia study. “The head of his security? You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you, huh?”
He laughs, and it’s a nice laugh, too. Really, he seems too cheerful for a killer. “Your husband definitely keeps us hopping, but it’s an honor.”
This Patrick is nice,I think,he has some authority. I’ll bet that demented, conniving swine answers his Obshchak’s phone calls.
“Patrick, can I ask a favor?”
An hour later, I’m pounding on Tania’s door.
“Look, woman! Just answer the door because I know you’re in there! You’re burning that horrible holiday candle your mom always sends that smells like a reindeer pooped out a pine tree! I’m not going away until you-”
The door opens, but she still has the security chain on. No silly fight or pissy moment we’ve had as best friends hurt as much as this does. “Hey.”
“Oh, sweetie…” I’m trying not to cry. Tania looks exhausted and a little drunk. “How are you… Look, please just tell me you’re processing this. Can we talk?”
“You look nice,” she drinks directly from a wine bottle and I wince.
“We’re flying out today. St. Petersburg for the Russian Christmas. I don’t want to go; I want to stay here with you. I know…” I pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It was really bad. It was my first… well, all of it. Just like you. Yuri says you don’t want to see him anymore. I don’t blame you.”
She chuckles mirthlessly, “Yeah, if only we could get you cut loose too, huh?”
My hopes rise at the use of the word “we” again. “Honey, no one could be a better friend than you have been. I just…”
“You know what?” Tania interrupts me, “If I hadn’t insisted on going to his pretentious club that night, he never would have roofied and kidnapped you. If you think about it, this is my fault.”
“No,” I shake my head firmly, “No, Tan, you can’t say that. No one could predict this totally screwed-up Karma train that barreled over both of us. It just did. Please, will you let me in?”
Patrick, damn him, has been lingering a polite distance away, letting me talk, but now he steps over to me. “Mrs. Morozov,” he says in a super polite, deferential way that is really irritating, “I apologize for the interruption. Mr. Morozov has arrived at the jet and is requesting that you join him immediately.”
“It’shisjet!” I hiss, “It’s not like we’re missing a flight. Can you ask him to-”
His smile’s getting a little strained. “Ma’am, I have instructions to pick you up and carry you if I must.”
I whirl back to the door. “Sweetie, will you please take my calls? Please? We don’t have to talk about any of this, we can just…” I do not want to cry in front of Maksim’sObshchak.I don’t want him telling that heartless prick that I cried.
Tania seems to soften, just a little. “Girl, get on the jet. Steal all the little soaps and towels in the bathroom for me.” She pulls me in for a hug and I sag a little with relief. “I just… I have to figure this out. We’ll just. You know.”
I don’t know, but I put my hand on her cheek. “I love you. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay, I love you right back,” she gives me a wobbly smile, “I just need to put this all together. I’ve been so busy trying to cheer you up and pretending that this was normal, that… I’m an idiot. I guess it never hit me until all those bullets started flying that…” Her chin trembles and I want to hug her but I know she’ll kill me. Tania hates it when people see her cry, even me. “I’ll work it out, Els. Go. Have some fun. I’ll text you every day, I promise. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m sorry,” Patrick said on the way down to the entrance, “I tried to give you as much time as I could.”
I can’t be mad at him, he at least got Maksim to agree to let me see Tania by taking over my security personally. “I know. Thank you.”
The jet is full of gigantic Russians. And me. Maksim is deep in discussion with Patrick, Yuri, and two other men I recognize from his senior staff. And Alina.
Seriously?I’m raging silently,Take your Russian wifey with you and let me stay here, you-
“Alina,” Maksim is talking, “I’m keeping you here in Manhattan. You’ll need to keep track of the new building’s permits and codes with the city.”
Her eyes are wide and crazy-looking, but she says, “Yes, of course, Pakhan.” She says Pakhan in a tone that really means ‘My King,’ but I do not care. It’s one less person to make my life hell for the next two weeks.
Finding a comfortable seat in the far corner, I put in my earbuds and try to pretend I’m somewhere else for a few blessed moments.
