After a moment of us staring at each other, I flipped the switch. Trained my emotions to normal. Normal for Russians. My attention returned to the henchman with the cold gaze. “Escort Jake to his rental on Crocket Road. Unscathed.”
“Wait—wait,” Jake said, voice hoarse, while the man clamped a hand on his arm. He threw a fist, punching the man in the jaw. Another guard rushed from the driveway, lifting the butt of his rifle.
“Don’t!” I ordered. “Or I will never marry Rurik. I’ll inform the Mikhailovs that you two are the cause of my refusal.”
The gun stopped swinging from behind Jake. The original man swiped blood from his nose with his suit-clad forearm.
As Jake called my name, I strolled inside the house.Well, Sima, time to marry into this lawless family.
58
NATASHA
November
The day I left Bieldside,my heart tore in half. I gave the other half to a girl I’d called sister on so many occasions when she moved in with us. We’d trick Vassilievich into sneaking us sweet pavlova before our stomachs settled from dinner. I know we were only inseparable that year. But the Mikhailovs’ involvement these last months had been hell.
Now, as I handed her a leather portfolio, a gift, she clutched it tight and clung to me while my insides twisted.
“I didn’t know you’d come,” I said, dabbing at my eyes. I hoped my mascara stayed put instead of redesigning my custom white Oscar de la Renta gown with dark flecks.
“Miss your wedding? Nyet. Also, I’d not expected to receive pictures of …”—she smirked, leafing through the images—“fuzzy people. I will guard them with my life.”
“Hah,” I laughed, suspecting she understood the sentiment behind these images. “When you moved back home, I went through film. Screwed up a lot. But I couldn’t get rid of these bad photos. It’s the thought that counts.”
“I wouldn’t call it bad. I was …” Simona scratched her jaw. “What you’d call kidding. These are lovely.”
We stared at old, blurry shots—mostly crooked Polaroids from when she first moved in with us. I hadn’t been a pro back then. But after she left a few months ago, I kept collecting every old candid I could find. Chasing that feeling that even cousins could have.
Sisterhood. I swiped another tear.
“Chyort!”She swatted me with the portfolio I just handed her. “I don’t want to wrinkle your wedding dress. Andmybeautiful makeup on either of us.”
We hadn’t seen each other in months. Not since Scotland. She’d gone to Russia, relegated to a lonely, colossal apartment Rurik owned in Moscow, and the Mikhailovs’ most trusted lieutenantsprotectedher. Fortunately, her fiancé allowed Baran to accompany her, and he stood near, regarding her as a daughter.
Lip curled, she glanced around the Dodgers’ clubhouse. “Here? You are getting married here?”
“You should’ve seen where Lach and I first exchanged vows.”
“Where?” Momma placed a hand on her hip. “What are you talking about?”
Across the room, Jordyn winked. Though she had just begun a series of appointments with the best baby-making specialist in the world, the diva was all smiles. Maybe she was already pregnant?
Momma cleared her voice again.
“Kidding, Momma, dang.” I played it off with a laugh.
“Well, you’ll have another wedding to attend soon, Aunt Zariah. Oh, and Lev sent a gift. My soon-to-be father-in-law loves giving gifts and telling others about said gifts, yet he couldn’t come. And Rurik doesn’t associate with commoners, so he’ll meet us at The Red Door later.”
I stared at Simona. When had she ever shared information without pulling teeth? Here she stood, a silk dress draped off one shoulder, the royal blue color complementing her skin tone, going through the motions. “Don’t give me that look, Natasha. Uncle Vassili’s vow to support Lev’s presidency was included in your expunged contract with Edik.”
My head shook at the situation. No one cared about my and Edik’s personal arrangement to never marry each other. They only cared that they’d rule Russia, I guess. Bad for Simona, but lucky for me. I got to experience my happily ever after in front of almost a hundred thousand people, during the World Series’ seventh-inning stretch.
I shot Baran a look of compassion—dude was still in mourning. I whispered, “Jake asked if you want to start an SS Robinson book club.” My eyes met hers, drawn to a love story concealed in her impassive, dark eyes.Dang. She was showing emotion all right. Happiness for my day? “Sima, what happened between you? His girlfriend?—”
An attendant entered the door. “It’s time.”
With the length of halftime, I’d better marry this man—again—before Momma lost it. She’d had something to say about everything since we returned. Us moving in together. The house shopping and the gorgeous homes, I continued to pass on—since Simona wasn’t living her life. Not like me. Hell, even I knew Pop’s possessive behind didn’t wait for them to marry. But that was mothers.
