Page 41 of Mistaken
“I’m not yourObshchaka,”Yuri said carefully, “but I know he will remind you of the colossal loss here. Not only the original shipment but the cost of bringing in the next one.”
“We’re not showing weakness in front of the Irish. Get it done.”
“Very well, Pakhan,” Yuri said with just the barest amount of deference. Just enough to keep me from punching his face the next time I saw him, while still telegraphing his disapproval.
I headed for the master bathroom as soon as I arrived back at the penthouse. The first rule, always. Never carry blood home to the family.
A torrent of hot water was always an excellent tool to reset the sourest mood, and feeling less like I was ready to tear someone in half, I strolled into the dressing room, toweling my hair.
“Oh my god!”
I grin under the cover of the towel. Apparently, Ella was in her favorite hiding spot on the window seat. Moving the towel to dry my chest, I smiled at her lazily. She’s trying to angle around the other side of the center dressers in the room to escape.
“Hello, darling. Are you uncomfortable? It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.” She’s clutching her phone to her chest, wide-eyed. Her pale skin makes it easy to see her painful blush.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” she’s defensive, trying to look haughty. “I just… have some stuff I have to do, so-”
“What are you reading that’s so fascinating?” I gesture to her phone. The dressing room is as large as most bedrooms, but it’s still easy to pin her against the wall. She’s wearing a soft green sweater dress, and my hands are itching, wanting to feel her breasts under all that cashmere to discover if she’s wearing a bra.
“Oh,” Ella turns the phone to face me. “I was just looking up some of the traditions around a Russian Christmas.” She doesn’t finish the implication here.
“I haven’t been very informative about upcoming plans, have I?” She folds her arms and her expression says it all and I can’t take offense. “I have some work to finish.”Visiting Sergei’s widow, swearing in Patrick as Obshchak, sending at least another two million dollars down to Miami for the new shipment…“But before we get dressed for tonight’s party, we’ll sit down and I’ll talk to you about what happens next in St. Petersburg. Does that please you?”
It was a small smile from Ella, but a smile nonetheless. “Yes, thank you. I would like that.”
Ella…
New Year’s Eve
While Monique, the stylist, cured my hair into big, glamorous waves, I was still thinking about this afternoon and getting comfortable in Maksim’s study while he pulled up photos on his laptop and explained some of the customs and traditions for a Russian Christmas.
“Why do you celebrate on January Seventh?” I’d asked.
“The Russian Orthodox Church uses the old 'Julian' calendar for religious celebration days, rather than following the Gregorian calendar that is in use today. Christmas was banned during the days of the Soviet Union,” Maksim said, “after the fall in 1991, the people began celebrating openly again.”
“I see,” I pondered, “How do I say ‘Merry Christmas’ in Russian?”
“??????????? ?????????.”Maksim had a smile curving one corner of his lip as I tried to repeat it.
“Um, skah…stlee…vah…vuh… Wait, say it again?”
He chuckled, “Russian is a difficult language to learn. Say it like this; ‘S-schah-st-lee-vah-vah rah-zh dee-st-vah.’”
I’d tried it a few more times before it didn’t sound like I was trying to offend anyone by wishing them Merry Christmas, and we parted to get ready for the New Year’s Eve party.
“All done!” Monique chirped, making me look up at the mirror.
“You did an amazing job,” I said sincerely, “thank you.” And she had; the dress was far too glamorous for me, but here I was, cinched into the pale green silk corset top with draped cups covering less than I would have preferred of my breasts, and a silk skirt that fell to my ankles.
There was a low whistle from behind me, and I could see Maksim in the mirror behind me. “You’re beautiful,????????.Stunning.” Without taking his eyes off me, he said, “Thank you, Monique. Good evening.”
The woman was no fool, she nodded, smiled, and made herself scarce as we continued our stare-down in the mirror until his gaze dropped to make a leisurely circuit up and down my body, then returning to my face. “It is missing something, darling.”
I looked down, spreading out the skirt a bit. “I hope not, because there’s no room left in this dress for anything.”
He tilted his head, considering me. As always, Maksim wore a tux like a boss. His cufflinks were silver, set with pale green emeralds.
“We match.”
