“But let’s not dwell on the bad parts of this arrangement,” she says. “You’re a Mechnikov now, which puts you in a very, very fortunate position. You’re adjacent to the prince, my friend.”
I snicker. Making me out like I’m a princess is a weird description for all this. “So, what, I’m royalty now?”
“In a way, yes. And that changes things for you, socially speaking. For one thing, your little reputation? It doesn’t matter anymore.”
My face flushes. The words my father said to me, calling me a slut and all that, it comes back to me like a searing flash of light. She reaches across the table and touches my hand gently.
“If anyone,” she says, “and I do meananyonehas anything negative to say about you now that you are married to Alexei, they will have to answer directly to him. And trust me, no one wants to anger him. Not even in passing.”
I think back to Mike Piscelli bleeding to death in the alley across from my father’s house. Alexei didn’t evenknowme, really, and he beat that poor sap to death for trying to hurt me. What the hell would he do now that I was his wife?
“I don’t know if I want that on my conscience,” I tell her. “His hurting somebody just because they were talking shit about me.”
“It won’t be tolerated,” she says as she finishes her coffee. She looks around and waves down a waiter.
“Did you hear me, Anya? I don’t care if someone talks about me. I mean, they’re just words?—”
“It’s disrespect. No one disrespects us. Understand?”
A waiter practically appears out of nowhere and speaks to her in Russian. She side eyes me then responds to him in English. “Mrs. Mechnikov is still very new to the Russian language,” she says to him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s impolite to speak in your native tongue in front of English speakers? Or were you raised in a barn?"
His face goes beet red. He looks over at me and his eyes widen. “Apologies,” he stammers. “I wasn’t aware.” He swallows hard and looks back at Anya. “What may I get for you, Ms. Volkov?”
“More coffee for me, please.” She’s not looking at him as she slides her empty cup to him. “What would you like, Isabella?”
I’m a little speechless. In my dad’s restaurant, I’d sometimes get timid waiters who trip over themselves trying to serve me, but the ones who have been around for a while just treat me like I’m a regular. There’s no legitimate terror in anyone’s eyes when they look at me. Not like this poor guy.
“Um…” I look down at my half-eaten plate of eggs and toast. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Nonsense,” she says, then to the waiter, “Why don’t you bring us a plate ofpashkawith two forks? I think she deserves something sweet to soften your rudeness.”
“Of course,” he says. “Whatever you ladies need.”
He takes Anya’s cup and practically runs back inside like his ass is on fire. Anya leans over to me. “They don’t servePashkaherethis time of year,” she says with a little smirk. “It’s strictly a dish that they bring out around Easter.”
I blink. “If they don’t have it?—”
“They will find some. Trust me. He wouldn’t dare come back here and tell me that otherwise. And just think, I’m only a cousin. But I’m sitting here with the new wife of Alexei Mechnikov of the Samorodokaya Empire. We’ll be eatingpashkabefore he dares bring us the bill.”
I’m stunned. If I tried something like that at one of Dad’s restaurants, I might get what I asked for, but boy, would I hear about it later. I hope I don’t hear about this from Alexei later. Anya seems pretty confident that this is just what’s done.
Her eyes drift up to my hair, which, at the moment, is just a collection of waves hanging at my shoulders. “After thepashka, what do you think about doing something with your hair?”
I touch the ends self-consciously. “It looks bad, huh?”
“Not bad,” she says with a little laugh. “In fact, I think it’s lovely. Maybe you might consider getting some extensions. Just something to lengthen it and thicken it out some. It’ll definitely make you more appealing to Alexei.”
I can feel myself scowling at that. “Yeah. He, uh, he sort of mentioned that my hair was too short for him. I don’t know why he cares either way, actually.”
She shrugs. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt since you’re stuck together in this. And I know he likes long hair on his women.”
That makes me look at her long, curly tresses. It’s in a ponytail right now, but even with that, it hangs nearly to the center of herback. I wonder if that whole thing is a fetish or something with Russian men.
Minutes later, thepashkaappears and it’s absolutely delicious. It’s just like a lemony, slightly softer, cheesecake with flicks of chocolate and almonds. I could really eat this all the time. I might have to ‘insist’ that they serve this every time I come to this cafe.
And after, she takes me to a salon and the moment that I walk in, I have a crazy thought. Just because Alexei likes long hair doesn’t mean I have to comply. Honestly, the sex with him last night was great, but… if I can get through all this with him paying as little attention to me as possible, the better.
I get in the chair and the hairstylist looks me over. “And what are we doing today?” she asks me in a heavy Russian accent.
