She shrugs coyly. “Off and on. We’ve been hooking up every now and then.”
“Oh, Lee. You said you’d never get back with him. In fact, you told me to knock you out if you ever even thought about calling him.”
“I’m not back with him,” she scoffs, then a little softer, “We’re just fucking. Anyway, this club, it’s called the Firebird. It’s, like, an S&M sex club or something. You can go there, have drinks, get it in?—”
“Wait, wait. The Firebird’s a strip club. One of my father’s associates owns it.” She stares at me as she drinks her wine, waiting for me to put it together. “Wait. Are you telling me there’s a secret sex club in the Firebird?”
“That’s what Rodney says. I want to check it out. You should come with me.”
I laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so.” I drink from my wine glass and I notice Ilya’s smile fades.
“You know what the absolute worst thing about your dad is?” she says. “It’s that he locked you away from living.”
“Whoa, hold on a second.”
“No, no. You hold on. Nat, in high school, we used to call you ‘inmate’ because you were so afraid of your father that you never did anything with any of us. And when you went to college, I remember thinking, ‘Great! Maybe now that she’s away from her father, she’ll live a little.’ But you didn’t. You still just stayed a stick in the mud.”
“Hey, I did things,” I say defensively. “I went to parties and all that.”
“Nat. You were in college for four years and only fucked one guy. That’s not living.”
She takes another drink of wine and I’m just staring at her with mild offense. “Okay, so…” I stammer. “So, you think I ought to just… go out there and have lots of sex?”
“Among other things, yes. That’s exactly what I think you should do.” She reaches across the table and touches my hand. “Look, all I’m saying is that life is too short to live in a cage. Go on a trip to Paris or climb Mt. Everest. Fuck a guy you just met. But enough sitting around and sulking about the warden. You’re an adult, Nat. You’re free.”
She’s right. I hate to say it, but she’s absolutely correct. What would it be like if I could do whatever I wanted without worrying about what my father might do?
“I’m going to go to the ladies’ room,” she says. “Think about it, though. You’re young and beautiful and most importantly, a grown woman. Time to start acting like it.”
I watch her get up and leave. As I drink my wine, I consider what she’s trying to say. I’ve lived my life in a tarnished golden cage my whole life and for what? Just for my father to treat me the way he does? I set my glass down and accidentally knock over my fork.Dammit.
I lean down to pick it up and when I sit back up again, I see Anton walking toward my table.
6
ANTON
Vladimir Petrov’s daughter has… grown.
The minute I noticed her, I had to do a double-take. The last time I saw her, she was a young girl with big, innocent blue eyes and a baby’s face. Maksim and I attended her sweet sixteen party by invitation from her father, Vladimir. That day, we were there for business. Some meeting about some deal that I no longer remember. We walked into the kitchen as we were leaving and she came rushing in from the pool. She was wearing a blue bathing suit and her long red hair in a high ponytail.
“My daughter, gentlemen,” was all Petrov said.
She waved politely, then rushed back out and to the pool. The next thing we heard was a rising giggle from her and her friends just outside the door. I had only one thought that I ended up sharing with Mikki later, and that was that it was a good thing she didn’t get her father’s toad-like looks.
And that was it. I might’ve seen her a few more times over the years, but she was always in my peripheral. Never really registering.
But now… Now that I see her straight on, she is easily the most beautiful woman in the room. Her long red hair is curled at the ends, and her bright blue eyes were accented with eyeliner and shadow, but they’d transformed into dreamy, heavy-lidded eyes. She smiles at something her friend says, her heart-shaped lips turning up gently at the corners.
Her friend gets up from the table and walks away, toward the bathrooms. Now is my chance.
“Don’t.”
I look over at Mikki, who’s looking back at me with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
He leans forward. “That is Vladimir Petrov’s daughter.”
“Is it?” I say, feigning surprise. “Well, it would be impolite of me not to go over and say hello. Excuse me for a second.”
