“Luck.” He grinned. “I am lucky to have found you, but it is not luck that you’re with me. You’re trying to avoid the subject.”
“Can I? Please, just this once?”
“Can you have a good time tonight if you do?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his chin, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown. “I don’t like not knowing what you’re thinking. But wecan talk about it later. After.”
I let out a measured sigh of relief, and tried my best not to let silence invade the space between us. “Why did Sergei want me there?”
“Whenever he has to entertain, he likes to bring out his most beautiful girls. Just to flaunt the options. Show the big guys his inventory—what they can have.”
“He wanted me there with the prostitutes?”
“Oh, no.” He grinned, and did not look away from the road. “I wanted you there so they could see what they canneverhave.”
* * *
About Russia:
Avtoritet– “Authority” referring to the local head of organized crime. Essentially a district manager
gulag– early prisons/forced labor camps that are credited with forming the early Vory v Zakone
22
Bad Kotik
Considering what I went through to get ready and the cost of Vitali’s watch, I expected the restaurant, where ‘Moscow’ met, to be… different. Ironic that Vitali lectured me about‘Western ideas’before we arrived. This place had the distinct look of a mobster bar from a Chicago movie.
When he said they were Sergei’s bosses, I pictured men in suits being escorted by other men in suits, and renting out an entire establishment just to have dinner. Instead, before me splayed a large table loaded with husky men in too-tight shirts proudly displaying brand names across their chests. Most were of the balding age, and some boasted breasts that could rival mine on my best day.
I glanced at Vitali’s sharp outfit. He didn’t have to dress up, apparently, but still showed up the best-dressed in the room.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You keep eyeing me like that, Kotik, I might let you sit on my lap.”
I slowly breathed out, doing my best to ignore him. The idea of his bringing me specifically to show me off was an excitingone in ways that made my core ache. Katya Petrovna didn’t get shown off. She arrived places, had a mediocre time, got hit on a bit to boost her confidence, and went home feeling like a sack of rubles.
But beside him, I stood taller. My hips swayed wider. My red lipstick was glossier, brighter.
I was the Elena in the room, and I didn’t have to try, because I was on the arm of the only one who mattered. The pride in his eyes could feed me for the rest of my life.
I recognized a lot of the men, including Misha, who sat near the head of the table, being pawed at by Ana and unhappily glaring at the veal cutlets that were just far enough to be unreachable. The empty glasses before him said the attitude had been building for some time.
The ‘girls’ meant to be shown off were unknown to me, aside from Ana (but who would ever think to show her off?). They were beautiful.
I watched Vitali subtly as we approached to gauge just how many of themherecognized.
Amidst the laughter and lively conversation, it took forty-five minutes to make our way around the table and be introduced. I forgot their names almost immediately and hoped that no one would try to ask me questions.
Turned out, they weren’t too keen on asking any of the girls questions. The talks went on exclusively among the men.
When the server came around, Vitali ordered me a tea with no sugar and a Martell for himself. He lit a cigarette, notably holding it in the hand nearest the glass. A great excuse not to be seen drinking.
The table bent under the plates of food, vodka decanters, and men’s sweaty elbows. Vitali participated in the discussions, andstill managed to fill my plate with a bite of every fancy appetizer that floated past us in gold-ringed hands.
We both skipped the oysters.
