“Like Elena.”
“—but that doesn’t mean I’m jumping into anything. There is a lot I don’t know about him.” Most things, really, but I would not tell Mama that. “But I would like to marry someone eventually.”
“And have kids.”
“And maybe have kids,” I agreed. My cheeks warmed. The first man I brought around in over a year, and she was already snooping for grandchildren before we ever went out.
“Be careful,” she said quietly.
The words immediately caught my attention. Olga Nikolaevna did not take that tone on lightly.
“It will be alright, Mama.” I took her hand in both of mine. It was warmer than my own. Age had made her skin thin and veins more pronounced, perhaps before their time. But they were strong hands, and could deliver a swift smack to the back of my head at any age. Of course I’d be careful.
When Vitali arrived, he removed his hat but never moved past the doorway, and only held out a hand to help me into my heels. After some quick goodbyes with Mama (her goodbyes to him, not me) we were off.
The Jeep had gone the way of the Mercedes, and instead, he gladly helped me get into a BMW. His eyes slowly moved from my heels and up my body until his gaze met mine. He made certain I saw—and he wasn’t apologetic, only appreciative. Approving. Those weren’t the same thing.
“You look beautiful,” he said with that tone that made it morethan an observation. The wordsmattered.
Wait until you see the dress,I thought, and this sudden onset of confidence surprised me. I didn’t lack self-esteem, for the most part, but he made me nervous, and nerves manifested in cruel ways when it came to boys I liked. But him… it was different with him.
The CD clicked and in the momentary pause before it started playing, I tried to guess what kind of music he listened to when alone in the car. Maybe he was clever enough to have something ready for me, but I didn’t want to be so self-involved to think so—
‘I tried to build walls strong and high,’Chloé Dae interrupted my thoughts. Vitali flinched, and his fingers tightened, hovering over the volume button.‘Convinced I was safer inside.’
“I like Chloé Dae,” I said with a light smile. His jaw flexed, and eyes dashed to the CD player.
He reached out after all—but instead of turning it off, he turned it up.
“Me too,” he said quietly, looking ahead as we pulled onto the road. He rested a hand on my knee, and my breath became heavier. My awareness of its every movement sharpened—and each time his fingers lightly stroked the nylons, I held in a sigh.
Windows and streetlamps passed us by, glowing gold and blue before fading in the rearview mirror. It was fully dark now, and the oncoming headlights flashed across Vitali’s features, both sharpening them and softening his expression. I could see myself in the passenger seat (any one of them) next to him, day and night. The feeling was that of falling in love with a stranger at a stoplight because you made eye contact. Ridiculous, as this was technically our first date. Mama’s words had gotten to me.
He stopped in an ex-residential street. The kind off themain road where wooden log houses with cement bases were converted into offices and furniture stores. There weren’t many lights on in the windows.
Two men in thick leather coats were smoking by a lamp post, and their attention immediately turned to us. One put out his cigarette and started for my door. He reached for the handle and I frantically tried to locate the button to lock it, but Vitali was already beside him and casually waving him off with one hand. He opened the door instead.
He looked pleased with my expression as I got out and took his arm.
One of the strangers rounded the vehicle for the driver’s side and, to my horror, got in. The car hummed, and the tires screeched as Vitali led me to a dark set of narrow doors. The once-white paint remained only in the grooves of the frame, and the windows behind metal bars in the shape of a sun were pitch black. If there were ever a place to get murdered, this would be it. I glanced at him just as he placed his hand on the knob.
“Trust,” he said, and opened up a whole different world.
Soft golden lamps lined the hallway wallpapered in textured fleur de lis patterns, and piano notes carried an aroma of leather and apricot liqueur, which only got sweeter as we approached.
Vitali leaned in, his lips almost caressing my hair, and quietly said, “They have pizza, if you like.”
I snorted and slapped a hand over my mouth. He chuckled, tightening his hold on my arm.
The restaurant was intimate and dimly lit, not so large that they needed more than three waiters. They ducked in and out of masterfully disguised kitchen doors as a mustached man poured cocktails at a sturdy oak bar, with foreign liquor proudlydecorating the wall behind him.
Our table was set in the corner, and of course, he helped me take the coat off, letting out a satisfied, deep breath as he took in the dress underneath. I tried to hide my smile, because a girl must be hard to get, but the thoughts he inspired put me a centimeter worth of willpower from sitting on his lap.
An attendant was immediately beside us to take my coat, and did not bother to give me a return ticket.
“Why do they not accept those at the door?” I whispered as he pulled out the chair. Even shopping centers had a coat check.
“Their clientele often prefers to keep theirs on,” he said, and I noted the tension with which he studied the room before returning his attention to me. “Saves everyone the hassle of having to refuse the service.”
