Beauty and the Assassin

by Nadia Lee

  Chapter Twelve

  Angelika

  Tolyan didn’t just put my clothes in the bathroom. They’re freshly laundered and neatly folded. I can’t decide exactly what I think about Tolyan touching and folding my underwear. My bra and panties are the super-plain white cotton variety, bought on sale. And the elastic on the bra is a bit loose from being so old. God, this is as embarrassing as going on a date without shaving your legs or armpits.

  I breathe in slowly. It isn’t like he and I are dating. And it isn’t like I want to be, like, seductive or sexy. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with white cotton. Tolyan seeing them… Well, it’s a minor thing to get over. Like a paper cut.

  That’s right, girl. I gave you a non-rotten lemon this time, a voice that sounds entirely too smug says.

  Yeah, but you owe me more than one non-rotten lemon for all that you’ve put me through.

  The bathroom doesn’t have a dryer, so I pat-dry my hair with a towel as well as I can. When I slip back out, the kitchen and the dining room are spotless. The dishwasher’s running, but the sound is so quiet we can watch TV without any problem.

  Tolyan’s back in the living room, reading something on his tablet, a tumbler in his hand. At this point I know better than to think it’s water he’s drinking.

  He lifts his head. “Feeling better?”

  “Much,” I say. Not only do I feel clean, but I’m actually full. It isn’t something I’ve felt in a long time. And for that, I’m very grateful to Tolyan.

  The dogs come over and smell my fingers, like they’re curious what I’ve been doing in the bathroom and what soap I used.

  “Sit.” He gestures.

  I do.

  “Do you have a computer?” he asks.

  “No. I basically do everything on my phone,” I say. I don’t want to admit to being too poor to buy myself a laptop.

  “You need to write a résumé, and you can’t do that on a phone.”

  “Why do I need a résumé? I already have two jobs.” I’m not working three. I need at least six hours of sleep if I want to stay alert.

  “Yes. You’ll have to quit those.”

  What? He never said anything about me quitting my job! He said I could continue to work! I open my mouth to argue.

  Tolyan lifts a finger, indicating silence. “I can’t keep an eye on you if you don’t stay close, and I can’t quit my own job.”

  Right. I can’t imagine him chirping, “Welcome to Coffee Heaven. Do you need help or are you ready to order?” with the extra-perky smile specified in the employee manual.

  “So you’re going to apply for an internship at the Pryce Family Foundation. Which means you need a résumé by tomorrow afternoon,” he says, like that’s a reasonable deadline. “I’ll send it over for review.”

  “Um. I can’t… I don’t even know what to write on it,” I squeak.

  He raises both eyebrows. “You’ve never written one?”

  I shake my head. “Retail and food service jobs don’t usually ask for one.”

  He purses his lips briefly.

  “But if you can give me some pointers…”

  He stares at me like I just asked him to film himself doing ballet in a pink tutu. “Google it.”

  “Haven’t you written one?” The man has a real job. A career.

  “No. Nobody hires me for my résumé.”

  If people hire him because they met him at fancy events like the one from yesterday, probably not. The man exudes high-level confidence.

  “But even if I write one, it doesn’t mean I’m going to get the position. My job history is pretty spotty.” Moving constantly has that effect. “And I never went to college,” I add with a small cringe. These days, everyone wants a college degree or equivalent experience. I don’t think retail counts. And so many people think not going to college means either I’m stupid or there’s something wrong with me at some fundamental level. Like I’m too lazy to go or whatever.

  Tolyan makes a small dismissive movement with his fingers. “We’ll worry about college later.”

  “When? Before or after I’m done working on the résumé?”

  He gives me a piercing look. “Later, as in when you’re interested in going.”

  I don’t think he understood what I meant. I’m not thinking about attending college right now or anytime soon. I meant being a high school graduate with my kind of experience isn’t going to cut it, so I need to find something else to make myself look like a decent candidate. But I shut my mouth. The more I talk about it, the more pathetic I’ll appear. I don’t want him to pity me any more than he already does. I do have a bit of pride left.

  “I’ll work on it tomorrow morning.” I don’t have a shift scheduled at the café tomorrow, and I want to look up a few samples online and think about what I’m going to put down. To be honest, I think it’s going to be a futile effort unless he can pull some strings to get me hired. And even then I might still have to work part-time at the café and the hotel catering to make money. Most internships are unpaid.

  He shakes his head. “You have to go shopping tomorrow.”

  “I do?” Since when? And why?

  “Yes. You can’t dress like that for work. Or, really, anywhere,” he adds.

  I look down. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” They’re clean, not stained, and cover me modestly enough. And there’s no point in splurging on office clothes when I’m not even sure I’m going to get a position.

  He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. A frown creases his forehead like he’s struggling to find words. It’s the first time I’ve seen the man nonplussed. Finally he says, “They just won’t do.”

  “But—”

  “Just because I can’t articulate female fashion doesn’t mean it’s not true. Remember my condition, little fawn. Buying new clothes isn’t that difficult or distasteful.”

  Fine. It hurts like hell to even think it, but I’ll use some of my savings on clothes. A couple hundred bucks should do. The rest I need to keep, just in case.

  Because without money, you can’t pack up and flee. You can’t dream of one day—

  Okay, stop. Tolyan said he’d help. I don’t have to be so fatalistic about all this. Maybe I can spare a bit more than two hundred bucks.

  “Now. You’re going to give me your bucket list,” he says, then takes a slow sip of his vodka.

  The abrupt shift in the conversation makes me pause for a second. “My bucket list?”

  “Don’t you have one? Everyone does.”

  “Um. Yeah, I guess…?” I say to humor him, since I don’t know if everyone has one. I certainly don’t. “But…most people aren’t too interested in what’s on other people’s lists.”

  “I am in yours. We can’t appear to be happy enough to lure Roy out otherwise.”

  “Oh. Um…” I think for a second. I haven’t actually made a list. I didn’t have the bandwidth to think about those things. So I gather my thoughts and try to imagine all the things I want to have and do when I’m free of Roy. “I want a real job that can make a difference in the world. Maybe help people. Like other women who are in bad situations and have no one to turn to. That would mean a lot to me.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I flush. It sounds ridiculous. I sound ridiculous. Like a person on an airplane bragging they can put oxygen masks on other people before putting on their own during an emergency. I can’t even take care of myself, much less someone else.

  “A noble goal,” Tolyan says with a slow nod. “Go on.”

  He doesn’t think it’s ludicrous? I blink a few times. Let’s see… What else do I envision when I think of my future? “Go to college. Make friends and hang out. Maybe get a boyfriend.” I smile, then shrug a little, to shake off the sense of awkward vulnerability coming over me. Tolyan is the first person I’ve shared my hopes and dreams with in a very long time.

  He’s studying me a bit too intently, like a cop trying to force a reluctant witness to spill everything. “Anything else?”


  I shake my head, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous imagery of Tolyan in law enforcement. “No.”

  “No vagabonding around Europe? No trip to Disney World?” He frowns a little. “Everyone seems to want that.”

  I laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just want to have a normal life, you know?”

  Something soft flickers in his pale gaze, then disappears fast. “All right, then. We’ll work with what we have.” He goes into another room briefly and returns with a laptop. “You can use this.”

  “You aren’t worried I might go snooping around in your files?” I ask as I boot it up. The machine’s sleek and light. I haven’t touched a laptop this new in years. The last time I had one was four years ago. I dropped it on a concrete sidewalk when one of Roy’s goons ran over a guy who was nice and had flirted with me a few times.

  “It isn’t even password protected,” Tolyan says as the screen goes straight to the main desktop. “Obviously, it doesn’t contain anything sensitive.”

  I look down at the menu. “At least it has Word.”

  He gazes at me. “You know how to use that, right?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t go to high school in the Dark Ages.

  “Good.”

  Something about the way he says it makes me go still. “Do you know how to use it?” There was a hint of…relief in his tone, which seems out of place.

  “Of course. I type all the time.”

  I open a résumé template. Yay for Microsoft for having one that I can just grab and fill in the blanks. “So. What is it that you do at the foundation?” I ask as I type in my name, email address and phone number.

  “I’m an assistant to Elizabeth Pryce-Reed King.”

  I look at him blankly. The name sounds pretty grand, and he announces it like it’s someone super important. Unfortunately, it means nothing to me.

  He curls his lips a little, his eyes humorless. “She’s the head of the Pryce Family Foundation. Didn’t Mr. Eric with a C mention her while whining about all the injustice he’s been suffering?”

  I almost burst out laughing. “No. He generally doesn’t talk admiringly of other people. At least, not when I’m around.”

  Tolyan grunts.

  “But I’m sure he thinks highly of her,” I say in an attempt to soothe Tolyan, whose expression says he’s been personally ego-punched by the fact that I don’t know who she is.

  “He’d better. She’s worth a literal billion of him.”

  “You really like her, don’t you?” I pause for a moment, then enter the address for the garage apartment for my contact information. I’m not going to be imposing on Tolyan once Roy’s taken care of. To be honest, I don’t even know exactly what I’m going to do once Tolyan tells me Roy’s out of my life. Maybe I should put going to Disney World on my bucket list. And pay for Tolyan to join me on the trip, to thank him.

  Tolyan pours more vodka and drinks it like water.

  “Got a crush on her?” I ask conversationally. I’m curious what makes him hold her in such high regard, when he seems not to think very highly of most people. It isn’t that he thinks he’s better than everyone, but people just don’t seem to measure up to his expectations.

  He chokes and sputters. His large hand moves roughly over his face. “Me? On Lizochka?”

  “Lizochka? Is that what you call Elizabeth Pryce-Reed King?” I never thought this man would sputter, but… I must’ve hit a nerve. He’s glaring at me like I just told him his penis was small.

  “Most definitely not,” he says, ignoring my question about the nickname. “She’s a married woman.”

  “So? You can still crush on somebody who isn’t available. Unrequited love and all that. There’s something heartbreaking about loving somebody who either doesn’t or can’t love you back.” Of course, since I prefer my world to end happily, I want the love to be requited. Like something happens to make the other person realize how special and wonderful the love that’s being given is.

  From the scornful look on Tolyan’s face, he doesn’t seem to agree with my sentiment. “I don’t engage in fruitless effort. Or waste my time. When I set my mind on something, I get it.”

  “Even if it’s a married woman?”

  “She wouldn’t stay married for long.”

  Wow. Confident much? It would appear brash and cocky if he didn’t exude such a firm belief that he could will such a thing into existence. It must be some kind of magic that makes him appear like he can do everything he says he’s going to do. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man with this kind of ironclad faith in himself.

  My insides are fluttering a little. Heat courses through me, a warm, languid honey, and my heartbeat picks up.

  Oh my God. Am I crushing on Tolyan?

  I duck my head and swipe a hand across my chin. At least it’s dry. My face hot, I start typing away faster, Googling exactly what I need to put on the résumé.

  Tolyan consumes three more vodkas and squeezes his valve spring while his Dobermans whine and lick him for attention.

  “All done!” I say after an hour of typing, deleting and retyping my job experience.

  “Good. Email it to me at tolyan@theprycefoundation.org.”

  I do as he asks. The email gets sent; I close the laptop, then stand up and stretch. “Should be in your inbox now.”

  He nods. “Want anything to drink?”

  “No thanks. I’m really tired, so I’m going to get some sleep.”

  I just need to be away from you so I can regain my composure. And think about whether I’m really crushing on you or just think male confidence is hot in general.

  Crushing on Tolyan would be unwise. He’s nice enough to feed me and offer to help me with Roy, but that doesn’t mean he’s a nice guy. He definitely had something to do with that Owen guy’s “suicide.” And he basically kidnapped me by injecting me with some kind of sedative, although I don’t think he plans to keep me imprisoned in his penthouse.

  Plus, I’m getting the vibe he never does anything without a reason. And I have no clue why he’s helping me. There’s gotta be some kind of upside for him, but I can’t figure out exactly what it is.

  His eyes are lit with amusement as he looks at me over the rim of his glass. “The nap not enough?”

  “It helped, but I’ve been tired for a while. Insomnia.”

  “Of course. A new toothbrush and toothpaste is in the drawer next to the sink in the bathroom you used to shower.”

  “Got it. Thank you. Good night,” I say, trying to project a weary cheeriness.

  “See you tomorrow morning.” His eyes are laughing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Angelika

  I come slowly awake into a dark room. It feels large and smells too pleasant—not like cold, musty concrete and drywall—and the vents are quietly wafting cool air; there’s none of the rattling I’m used to from the unit in my apartment. I shift, the sheets so soft and nice against my bare arms, then lie on my back and stare upward.

  I can’t believe how clear my head is. But then, I slept like a baby. I haven’t slept well in years. I usually get a light, fitful sleep, my senses semi-alert for footsteps that are too close or too heavy. Or somebody trying to open the door to my apartment late at night.

  Sometimes they turned out to be nothing but someone working late or out getting drunk and confused and trying to unlock the wrong unit. But I could never let my guard down anyway, because Roy used to sneak into my room when I was asleep until our parents found out what he was doing. With our parents gone and me on my own, he could strike at literally any time.

  But here, under Tolyan’s roof, it’s like my gut knows I’m going to be okay.

  And now that my head’s working better, everything that happened yesterday flashes through my mind more clearly. I put a hand over my eyes, a small groan caught in my throat.

  I acted like a complete idiot by asking if he likes Elizabeth. It’s none of my business who he likes. And for me to react all weird and high-school-girl-like! />
  Now that I think back on it, maybe I was relieved he doesn’t like her. It’s like I’m feeling…possessive of him.

  Oh my God, Angelika, don’t be an idiot.

  Tolyan’s much more experienced than I am. The man’s gotta be at least in his mid- to late thirties. And he’s rich and powerful, and probably used to women crushing on him all the time.

  Just look at that redhead from the hotel! And I’ll bet she isn’t the most persistent of the lot.

  And even if I could somehow get Tolyan to like me, romance is a luxury I wouldn’t dare dream of right now. Roy thought it was a great idea to hit my landlady simply because she was nice to me. And he’s killed guys he thought might be my boyfriend. Although Tolyan can take care of himself, I don’t want him to assume even more risk than he already has.

  Okay, stop with the ridiculousness.

  I jump out of bed, go to the bathroom to shower, then put on the clothes from yesterday. They’re still okay, having been laundered less than twenty-four hours ago.

  Then I quietly slip out, not wanting to make any noise in case Tolyan’s still asleep. If he’s awake, I’ll ask if I can make myself some coffee instead of going out for a morning jog, since today’s my rest day.

  “You’re up.”

  I jump and put a hand over my tumbling heart. “Oh my God you scared me!”

  “Me?” Tolyan gives me a look. “I was here first. It isn’t my fault you didn’t notice.”

  He’s in a pale gray shirt that lies just so over his wide shoulders and thick chest and back muscles, and long black pants that don’t do much to hide the solid musculature of his legs. He’s in a pair of boots with thick soles.

  The Dobermans are sitting at the edge of the kitchen, looking up at him longingly.

  “Did you already take them out?” I ask.

  “Briefly, but we’ll do the full walk after breakfast.” He lays strips of bacon into a pan, which immediately starts to sizzle. “How do you like your eggs?”

  “Thank you, but I don’t eat breakfast,” I say even though the smell is making my mouth water. Although I did eat the leftover sandwich yesterday… But that wasn’t really breakfast food—and it was free.