"Order pizza or something, then put him to bed," I tell them, then I cross the room to where Noemi is sitting, Sasha now fully in her lap. She looks up at me wearily as I stand over her.
"Come with me," I say quietly. "Lazar and Vasili are going to stay with Sasha. You and I are going out." I reach for her hand as she starts to shift Sasha off her lap.
"Out where?" he asks sleepily. The adrenaline from this morning's events has worn on him. He's napped three times and he looks like he could nap again now.
"Dinner," I say. "I'm going to take Ms. Dragunova for something nice to eat. Would you mind staying here with Lazar and Vasili? They can teach you to play cards."
She hesitates, her hand still resting on Sasha's head. "I don't know if I should leave him. After today?—"
"He's safe here," I interrupt. "These men would die before they let anything happen to him, and I think you know that." I reach down and brush a strand of hair from her face. "You've been taking care of everyone else all day. Let me take care of you for a few hours."
She sighs and looks back down at Sasha, who looks ambivalent. I know how attached he is to her because he knew her much longer than he's known me. But even he nods.
"Okay, I like Lazar." His mood switches easily and he curls up against the headboard. "I already know how to play cards," he says proudly, surprising me.
I chuckle as Noemi slinks away to grab her coat. "Yeah? What game?" I ask him.
"Go fish, or Crazy Eights… And I’m pretty good." Sasha sits more confidently as Lazar pulls up a chair and straddles it, pulling a deck of cards out of the bedside drawer.
"Yeah? Well he cheats," Vasili chimes in. Then he winks at me and pats my arm. "We'll be fine, Boss. Go."
As I turn I see Noemi standing by the door ready to leave. Even as tired as she appears, she's radiant to me. There's something about her beauty that seems to outshine the sun. Maybe it's her smile, but I have a feeling it's because her heart is just as beautiful as her outer appearance. She sees and knows the real me and still treats me with the same care and compassion.
We take the car and drive into town, chatting about how much I trust my men. She seems uncertain and I wish I could put herheart at ease, but that uncertainty is born of fear, and until I prove myself and my men prove themselves, she will always feel it.
I pull over in front of a small boutique that's still open, its windows displaying dresses and coats that look expensive even from outside. But this is a small price to pay to care for the woman who cares for my son. After her request the other day, I realized I've been only mission minded and not thinking about their wellbeing. Tonight I rectify that.
"What are we doing here?" Noemi asks. She glances at me with high eyebrows and confusion scrawled across her face.
"You've been wearing the same clothes for three days. So has Sasha. I'm buying you something new."
"Fyodor, you don't have to?—"
"I know I don't have to. I want to."
She sighs and stares at me for a few seconds but then she gets out of the car without arguing. I follow her into the shop and watch her weave through the racks of clothing. She picks out a simple dress for herself while I grab a few things for Sasha too, pants and shirts and a warm jacket that'll actually fit him, and I pay for all of it while she changes into her new clothing.
It's uneventful and yet it brings a smile to her face that lights up the whole room. I wish I'd have done this days ago before that blow-up. But I'm a slow learner, apparently, and I need her to remind me how to be human sometimes.
The restaurant I take her to is small and quiet, tucked away on a side street where nobody will bother us. We get a table in the back corner and place our order with the waitress who zips away,leaving us to ourselves. I sit quietly, admiring how beautiful Noemi looks in her new dress, but it’s awkward.
I'm not the sort of man who goes on dates with women. The women I've been with in the past were nothing more than passing flings picked up in a bar or after a job. Not at all the sort of woman Noemi is. She's professional and elegant, and she deserves something better out of me.
"Is this what your life is usually like?" she asks finally as she traces the rim of her wine glass. "The running and the shooting and the hiding in motel rooms?"
"No." I take a sip of my own wine and try to figure out how to explain it. "Usually it's quieter than this. Most of my work is just making sure people pay what they owe. The Gravitch family has interests in a lot of businesses, legitimate and otherwise, and my job is to make sure the money flows the way it's supposed to."
"And when it doesn't?"
"Then I have conversations with people. Usually that's enough." I won't bring up what happens when those conversations go pear-shaped or turn out heated. I think I'm learning how much my role is shifting now and how my primary focus is going to be protecting my family as Gravitch business takes a backseat, and when I tell Yuri about all of this, I know he'll agree.
"Do you think Sasha will be…." Her lips press into a firm line and she sighs and tries again. "Will Sasha be exposed to violence?" she asks, and I reach across the table to take her hand gently.
"Neither you, nor Sasha, will be exposed to violence ever again if I can help it."
Her shoulders rise as she sucks in a breath and widens her eyes at me. I don't have to explain in detail what I mean. She seems to understand the point—that I want her to be in my life for good now and that I hope to create an atmosphere in my home that she feels safe in.
She opens her mouth to speak and then shuts it again without saying a word. But a soft smile forms on her lips and her face relaxes just as the waitress walks up with a tray loaded with our plates of food.
