I keep having to remind myself that he’s a criminal. Even as I meet his daughter. Even as I watched him jump to both mine and Natasha’s defense when it counted. Even as I’ve been watching him work to make the club a safer place for us all by employing his men to work security.
That last talk we had a couple of days ago is sticking with me. Sitting there holding his rough hands in mine, I started thinking about how they felt on my ass that one time that we had sex. Therough texture and the size of them wrapped around my waist. I wasn’t going anywhere when he had me in his arms.
I have to bite hard on my bottom lip to pull me out of the memory as I sit in the parking lot. It’s not real, these feelings I’m having. They are not real. They are the product of loneliness and a longing for some kind of shield that I haven’t had since my dad was alive. Nothing more. I have to keep reminding myself as I keep this thing going.
And then there’s the dinner tonight. I really hope I can keep my head.
I get out of the car and start walking to the diner entrance. I can see Rastelli through the windows, looking down at her phone, cup of coffee steaming on the table in front of her. She looks about as ordinary as any other woman sitting in a diner.
I walk in and her head immediately lifts. The moment she sees me, she puts her phone away and takes a casual sip from her cup. I take a glance around and notice the place is practically empty. There’s just one other person in the entire place and he’s sitting on the far end of the lunch counter.
“You couldn’t have chosen a greasy spoon in the city?” I ask as I walk up. “There are about twenty of these places in town that you could have chosen.”
“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to meet anywhere where someone might recognize you. Sit down.”
I take a seat on the opposite side of the booth. “So, how does this work?” I ask her. “I just… talk and you take notes?”
“That’s basically it, yes.” She gives me that motherly smile again. It’s making me a little nauseous. “So, how are things going at the club? Any trouble?”
I immediately think of what happened with Natasha and I get a tight ball of fear in my stomach. I’ve made my peace with what happened. Suddenly, it seems wrong to sell out her savior that way. What he did might have been illegal, but he saved both mine and my best friend’s lives.
She lifts her eyebrows expectantly, so I say, “Nothing out of the ordinary, really.”
She nods slowly. “Nothing at all? Are you sure about that?”
My mouth is suddenly very dry. I glance around the diner for the waitress. Shouldn’t she have come by our table by now? “Listen, I’m really thirsty. Do you mind if I order a drink or something?”
Her smile falters slightly. “Go ahead.”
I spot the waitress and wave for her to come over. She does and I ask for a glass of water. As soon as she’s gone, Rastelli says, “Why don’t you tell me about your friend Natasha?”
How does she know… ?I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. “She’s just my friend,” I say. “She dances at the club and lives across the hall from me. She’s not involved in anything.”
The waitress comes back with the water. This time when she leaves, Rastelli says, “Eh, I was thinking she might’ve been involved inonething at least. Kind of curious whether you heard anything about it.”
I take a sip from the glass in the hopes of hiding the worry in my face. I don’t know how she could possibly know about what happened. Maybe they’re watching the club…
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. “Care to elaborate?”
Rastelli sighs. “A few nights ago, your best friend checked into the hospital for some pretty serious injuries. A black eye, scratches and bruises around her neck and on her face… The staff there said that she was involved in a car accident, but injuries like that sound more like she was involved in an altercation.” She stares at me, gauging my reaction. I don’t give her anything. “How is she doing, by the way? She is healing all right?”
“She’s better,” I say. “They didn’t keep her very long. They let her go the same night, pretty much, but you probably know that.”
Rastelli doesn’t respond. She sips her coffee as if waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, she says, “You know, this whole thing? Us meeting up like this? It’s supposed to be a little more productive.”
“What’s Natasha’s situation got to do with the price of tea in China?” I ask her. “I thought we were here to talk about Roman Orlov, not gossip about my friend’s personal life.”
“Well, your friend is also a dancer at the club you manageandthe last time she spent a little time in the hospital was about a year back when her boyfriend put her there. I wouldn’t be bringing it up except that her boyfriend just so happened to have missed his check-in with his P.O. He’s been missing for a few days now. Strange, no?”
My palms are starting to sweat, so I put them in my lap. It sounds like she’s not going to get off this. “Natasha’sex-boyfriend did reach out to her a while back,” I tell her. “Or so shetold me. Whatever happened after that, I don’t know anything about it.”
“Maybe he was the one who hurt her?”
“If he was, then he’d be in jail now, right? Or maybe he split town or something? I don’t know. I don’t really make it a habit to keep track of scum like him.”
She stares at me skeptically.
“I don’t know anything about that, okay? Natasha… Natasha didn’t even tell me that he reached out to her until recently. She was too ashamed. Do you really think she would tell me if he beat up on her?”
