*
It was easy enough to tag along with the security detail watching over Katya during her dates with potential husbands on the mainland. She was meeting three, all at the same restaurant, at different times.
I was sitting in the corner of the place now, back to the wall, and eyes firmly fixed on my nemesis sipping a colorful cocktail. An oversized plant kept me relatively hidden, not that I’d care if she did know I’d followed her. For her part, she was sitting in a slightly elevated, semi-private section reserved for important guests. The setup was lucky. If it were an actual VIP room, it wouldn’t be so easy to spy on her and her dates.
Katya looked impatient, reading over the menu over and over again, and messing about with the umbrella in her drink. I was on my second Jameson, but still completely and utterly sober.
I’d rather have been buzzed.
At a quarter to eleven, the first of the men walked in. It wasn’t hard to recognize him. Tall, dark, perfectly tailored suit that was slightly too big so as to accommodate weapons beneath. He looked like a soldier but carried himself like an upper crust businessman. When he approached Katya, he gave a small bow and reached for the hand she offered him. He kissed it lightly, and she smiled serenely. I heard a cracking sound that puzzled me.
Puzzled me, until I looked down and I realized I’d squeezed my whiskey glass so firmly that it had fractured against the pressure.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, setting down the glass and flagging down a waiter for another drink.
When I had it in hand, like a security blanket that was necessary against the sight of Katya speaking with her date, I studied their interactions intently. He was coming on strong, leaning across the table and trying to touch her hand as he talked. She was obviously not having any of it, sitting back in her chair and folding her hands against her lap to prevent his advancements.
I wanted to hear what they were saying, but I was too damn far away.
Standing abruptly, I walked over to the kitchens and found one of the hostesses on break.
“I’m Katya Vasiliev’s security detail. I’ll be testing and delivering her food.” I spoke matter-of-factly, turning to point at Katya, and not leaving room in my tone of voice for the woman to second guess what I was saying.
“Yes, yes, she’s very important. We have very strict orders.” The lady’s eyes went wide, dark lashes making her look very doe in the headlights.
“She is,” I agreed.
“Okay, okay,” she patted her apron nervously, “let me talk to the waitress in that section. She’s only gotten drinks from the bar for her so far of course.” She seemed to swallow, and then force a smile. “And obviously those have been okay. So that’s good. That’s good…” Again, she swallowed hard and searched behind me. “We really don’t have a protocol for this. For food testers, I mean.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s my job.” I kept my posture straight and serious, arms at my sides.
“Of course. Right.” She blinked, giving an uncomfortable laugh. “Oh, there’s her waitress. Just a minute.” The woman scurried off, and once she was gone, I let myself smirk.
This was going to be fun.
Moments later, Katya’s waitress walked towards me, her expression unsure.
“So… you need to taste her food and take it to her?” She shuffled back and forth. “I really need my tips.”
“My participation will not affect your earnings.” I shook my head, reassuring her before pulling out a hundred-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Let’s start with that shall we.”
“Oh, oh good.” She seemed relieved, her shoulders sagging slightly and her fingers taking the offered money hurriedly. The woman was obviously overworked and knew of us. I’d give her another hundred once the meals were finished. “Well, they’ve just put in their orders. Do you need to test her date’s food too?”
I frowned at the suggestion. “No.” They could eat a pound of rat poison for all I cared.
The waitress left, disappearing into the kitchen, and I turned to lean against the wall and wait. Katya was still shifting away from her date, her body language stiff, and Mr. Big Body and Big Money looked less sure of himself now.
Good, self-important bastard. Thinking he could come in and paw all over her from the get-go.
I watched the potential love interest stand and move to behind Katya’s chair. He reached down, fingers pushing into her long sleek hair, and he pulled the strands over her shoulder to spill down her back in a dark waterfall. Then he bent over, hands curled around her shoulders, and positioned his lips at her ear. Whatever he whispered made her cringe. He couldn’t see her gut reaction, but I could.
He needed to take his hands off of her.
Voluntarily,or I’d do it for him.
My knuckles cracked as I clenched my hands. I’d been itching for action, especially after striking out with woman-anchored Alex the night before. Sometimes, a good old-fashioned fight was just as satisfying as an hours long fuck.
Just as I was going to stomp forward and beat the son of a bitch bloody, the waitress reappeared with another server right behind her.
