by Alexa Davis
"That sounds like a great plan," she nodded. "Should we have a code word for when we are mad? You know, so that we don't scare the customers."
"Good idea," I nodded. "Do you know the Russian word for stop?"
"No, what is it?" she asked.
"Stoya," I replied. "It's literally the action of stopping, like in a car. And, it's short and sweet, so most won't notice if we say it."
"Wow, that's a good word. Are you fluent in Russian?" she asked.
"Something like that," I said.
"Alright, then stoya it is!" She smiled as we pulled up in front of the store. "This is going to be good, I think."
I nodded as I watched the driver circle the car and open the door for Lexi before coming around and opening my door. I felt like this was either going to be really good or an absolute disaster, but as Babi always scolded, "Worry is a down payment on a problem you may never have!" So, I put the negative thoughts behind me and hoped for the best.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lexi
Max unlocked the store and we got right to work placing all of the jewelry in its spots. He had an eye for detail and knew exactly where everything should go in order to maximize its glitter and shine. We worked in silence at first, but I was curious about how he'd come to own the shop and, if I was honest, I just wanted an excuse to look at him, so I began peppering him with questions.
"Did you grow up in a gem-loving family?" I teased as I pulled a rose- gold filigreed pendant with a smooth, round amethyst in middle and draped its delicate chain around one of the display stands.
"No, I did not," he said as he carefully placed a row of Orthodox cross pendants on a specially made tray. They were intricately detailed and came with a high price.
"Then, how did you get into the jewelry business?" I asked. I watched as he set and reset the pendants until he was satisfied that they were perfectly aligned on the tray.
"I was inspired by a need to break free of my family's business and strike out on my own," he said as he began inserting a series of beautiful solitaires set in gold into ring holders.
"What's your family's business?"
"My father runs a bar over on the West side and my brother works for him," he replied as he polished each ring until it reflected prisms back out into the room.
"What about your mother?" I asked. "What does she do?"
"Stoyaa," Max said and looked away.
"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go somewhere you didn't want to talk about." I quickly looked down and focused on polishing the necklaces I was getting ready to hang from the display.
"That's why it's good we have a word to say when it's enough," he smiled a little and went back to polishing the rings. I didn't know what to say to that, so I remained quiet until he spoke again. "What about you? Why are you an actress?"
"Oh gosh, I think it's probably because I have been a ham since I was in diapers," I laughed. "But seriously, I couldn't imagine doing anything else. It was like once I got the acting bug, everything else ceased to exist. I majored in Literature in college only because I thought that it would be a good thing to fall back on just in case I couldn't make the acting work right away. At least, I could write."
"And , how's that working out for you?" he asked.
"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" I said as I went back to hanging necklaces. As we worked along the cases, we moved closer to each other until he was working on the case next to the one I was at and was so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. I bit my tongue to keep from making any improper noises and inhaled the scent of his cologne. So far, I'd only seen him wearing a suit, but he filled out a suit very nicely. I just wished I could check out what was underneath that suit.
"So, you're acting in theater productions, too?" he asked. I'd been so intent on imagining him out of his suit that I hadn't been paying attention, so when he spoke, I jumped a little. He turned toward me with a concerned look on his face, "You okay over there?"
"Yes, fine, thanks," I nodded. "What was the question?"
"I asked if you're in any theater productions," he replied with a small smile. I wondered if he knew what effect he was having on me, and if he did, if he was taking pleasure in the fact that he'd thrown me off kilter.
"Not right now, no," I said. "But I've got an audition later this week and I feel hopeful that I can land the part."
"What is the play?"
"Hedda Gabbler," I replied and heard him swear under his breath. "Why, don't you like it?"
"What is it about this city?" he blurted out. "Why is it so absolutely obsessed with Ibsen? Ibsen, Ibsen, Ibsen. It seems like every damn play in the city is an Ibsen play!"
"No, please, tell me how you actually fee about Ibsen," I said dryly. Max looked over at me and burst into laughter.
"Touché," he said through his laughter. "I don't hate Ibsen, I just seem to see a lot of it. You know how there might be a certain food you really like, but then everyone thinks that's your favorite food so they make it all the time and feed it to you?"
"Okay?"
"That's how I feel about Ibsen," he sighed. "Full."
"I can see how you'd feel that way," I nodded. During his outburst, he'd moved closer, and now, I could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, making my skin tingle. I had been noticing his hands as he plucked the jeweled pieces from their padded boxes and then carefully placed them where they belonged. There was something about his long, elegant fingers that made me wonder how they'd feel tracing a path across my naked body. I shivered.
"Are you cold?" he asked. "I can turn down the air if you're too cold."
"No, I'm…I'm fine," I said as I swallowed hard and tried to focus my thoughts on the pieces I was working with. They were lovely rings made of aquamarine, amethyst, and citrine, and each of them shined like the sun under the bright lights once I'd wiped away all human fingerprints.
"Okay, if you're sure," he said watching me closely. I nodded and continued working.
"How did you learn Russian?" I asked as I turned toward him and leaned on the glass case.
"My parents and grandparents spoke it," he replied not looking up.
"Are they from Russia?"
"Yes, Moscow," he said tersely.
"You sound like you want to say stoyaa," I observed as I watched him diligently polish the piece of jewelry in his hand.
"I would, but you're not asking anything I can't answer."
I could see the muscles in his jaw tensing and releasing as he talked. I knew something was stressing him out, but I didn't think it was wise to push the questions at this stage of the game.
"What's your favorite color?" I said as I changed the topic completely and gave Max a rest from my questions.
"What? Oh, blue, I've always loved cornflower blue," he said. "It reminds me of the dishes in my Babi's kitchen when I was a kid."
"Bobby? Who's Bobby?" I asked. "An ex-girlfriend?"
"No, Babi, B-A-B-I" he laughed as he spelled it out for me. "It's short for Babushka, my grandmother. She lives up off of Devon and still cooks every weekend. If you're lucky, I'll bring back leftovers from her Sunday dinner while your have your run here."
"Ha ha, very funny," I said. "We both know that this is a straight up sales job passing as some kind of acting experience. Anyway, it sounds like Babi is quite a cook."
"She's the best cook ever. Last week, she made me fish soup that was out of this world."
"Now, in my family that would have been punishment," I said dryly. "I did not know anyone actually ate fish soup."
"Oh man, it's delicious," he said and then went on to describe the recipe and how to make it. When he was done, I looked up at him for a moment and felt my heart twist a little in my chest. His eyes were light and clear and he had a smile that stretched across his cheeks and lit up his entire face. He looked more than handsome, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
Over in my bag, my phone began demanding attention as Josh's ring tone played, sto
pped, and then played again. I had no desire to talk to the weasel, but I knew that if I didn't, he'd keep calling until I answered.
"Excuse me for a moment?" I asked. Max nodded and I grabbed my phone and headed toward the front door.
"What?" I hissed as I answered it.
"Heya, Sugar, how's is hanging?" Josh's smooth voice flowed through the phone and carried me back to the Jamaican beach. I could feel the ache flowing through my body for a brief moment before I shook my head and reminded myself that he'd abandoned me for a job in LA.
"Don't call me that, you know I hate it," I said in a dead tone. "What do you want?"
"Why are you so mad, Lexi?" Josh said in a sticky sweet voice. "I miss you, baby. I just wanted to call and check on you to see how you're doing."
"Give me a break, you didn't call to check on me, you want something," I shot back. "What do you want?"
"Well, I could use a little help with the expenses out here. I didn't realize just how expensive headshots were going to be, babe!"
"You're a piece of work, Josh," I laughed. "You dump me, leave me with the apartment, and move to LA all in one day, and then when things are going a little rough in your fantasy, you call me and ask if I can bail you out? You've got to be kidding me!"
"Jeez, Lex, if you can't help, then all you have to do is say so," he pouted. "You don't have to be so mean about it. Don't you know that I still love you?"
"Josh, you are the biggest piece of shit on earth," I said. "If you were on fire in the middle of Michigan Avenue, I wouldn't step off the curb to piss on you, let alone actually help you up. You can go to hell."
"Fine, if you're going to be a total bitch about this, then I'm sorry I called!" he yelled before he disconnected.
"That son of a bitch," I muttered as I walked back to the display case where Max was finishing up one of the final arrangements of gold pendants. "Call and ask me for help, will he? That'll be the day!"
"Not good news I take it?" Max asked as I walked behind the cases and put my phone back in my bag.
"Stoya," I said, giving him a warning look.
"Understood," he nodded and continued to work.
We worked in silence for the next hour, and by the time five o'clock rolled around, we'd turned the store into a glittering display of some of the most gorgeous jewelry I'd ever seen. Max had a great eye when it came to color and design, and I knew that much of what he'd bought would be sold out almost immediately. Most of the pieces were one of a kind, so any woman who wore a ring or necklace from M. Malin could rest assured that no other woman in the city would have purchased the same ring, unless she'd gone directly to Moscow to buy it.
After Max pronounced the showroom ready for our big opening the next day, I nodded, grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
"Hey, Lexi, you're welcome to have my driver take you home," he said in a voice that told me he was sorry I was having a rough time.
"Thanks," I said over my shoulder. "But today, I think I'd rather walk home. I'll see you in the morning. Bright and early."
With that, I walked out the door and headed for home, cursing Josh every step of the way.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Max
After Lexi left for the day, I walked to the window and looked out onto Wabash. The traffic was bumper to bumper as people rushed to get out of town and back to the suburbs. I shook my head and wondered how anyone could live away from the city. Lost in thought, I walked over to the set of display cabinets and straightened a few pieces.
Working with Lexi put me on edge. The closer I got to her, the more I wanted to reach out and touch her soft skin. I tried to imagine her out of the clinging dress and found myself breathing heavily as I imagined releasing her generous breasts from the confines of her bra and bending down to run my tongue over her nipples. I closed my eyes and imagined how she would look spread out on my bed, looking up at me with her amber eyes, her hair spread out across the pillows as I-
"Hey, zhopa!" Kristov yelled as he entered the store and pushed aside my very vivid fantasy. He smelled of whisky and cigars, and I knew from the moment he opened his mouth that he was high on something. "What's happening, bratik?"
"Don't call me that; you know I hate it," I said in a cool voice.
"Aw, c'mon, your big brother travels all the way across town to celebrate the opening of your store and you're going to insult him?" Kristov pouted as he walked around the showroom checking out the displays. "This is some nice stuff you've got here, Maksim."
"Don't even think about it, Kristov," I warned.
"Think about what?" he asked with feigned look of innocence.
"I don't know, staging a robbery or a fire or whatever you do when you want to get insurance money instead of earning some cash," I said. I knew I was being unfair, but I also knew that he'd been sent to collect me and bring me back into the fold and that if I didn't set my limits now, I'd be a goner. He had a way of convincing people to do whatever it was he wanted them to do, and my whole life, I'd been his obedient and worshipping little brother – but not anymore.
"Oh, Max, now that's a low blow to your older brother who has done nothing but look out for you his whole life," he said as he stuck out his lip. "I'm just here to celebrate your success!"
"Bullshit. Papa sent you and you're here pull me in and take me back to Ursus, where I'll help you run the West Side business," I said matter-of-factly. "I'm not falling for this, Kristov. Papa gave me three months to make this work, and I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen."
"So, little brother has grown a spine, I see," he nodded approvingly. "You want to prove yourself. You want to make your own way. How noble of you. How very fucking noble, bratik."
He moved across the sales floor until he was standing less than a foot in front of me. Kristov had the solid, strong body of our father, whereas I had inherited our mother's long, lean looks. He was more brutal and less forgiving, and he carried no guilt about anything he'd done or would be willing to do to defend the family business. Sometimes, I wondered how it was that two brothers could be so different and yet so connected. Kristov had been the one who'd broken the news to me about Mama, and he'd been the one who had taken care of the arrangements for her. He'd never once cried in my presence, even when I broke down and sobbed like a child.
Kristov was the strong one. He was vory v zakone to the core, but he didn't have the ability to finesse situations. Instead, my brother moved in like a bull in a china shop and did whatever was necessary to get what he wanted or needed. I could see why Papa wanted us to be a team. I had no inclination to be like Kristov, and he had no desire to be like me.
"You need to settle this business and come home," he said in tone that bordered on menacing. "Papa needs you. We need you. This war is getting out of hand and we need someone who is smart enough to figure out how to get the young ones in line. I'm not it, Max. I know it. I'm the muscle. You're the brains."
"I don't want to live that life, Kristov," I said as I looked at my brother closely. He was in his mid-thirties and he looked much older. His nose was crooked from taking one to many punches, and he had a long scar running along the right side of his face where a drunken bratán had sliced his skin during a bar fight. He looked tired. "I don't want to live in the back room of the bar and I definitely don't want to die in the streets. I want out. I want a normal life away from all of the violence and the hiding. Don't you want that, too?"
"I want to do what is necessary for the family, Max," he said wearily as he rubbed his forehead with a large callused hand in a way that reminded me of my father. "I just want to do what I'm supposed to do and be a captain. I don't want to go to prison, and I won't ever kneel for anyone." He pulled the leg of his pants up and showed me the star that had recently been tattooed on his knee.
"You got your stars, Kristov," I said trying to sound happy for him. "That's a huge honor. Did you get all of them?"
"No, that's the thing," he said looking at me. "I won't get all of m
y stars until you get yours."
"He's holding back your stars until you bring me home?" I said, aghast with the realization of what this meant. Getting stars meant you were a true vory v zakone. It meant that you were a captain who commanded the men under you. When stars were tattooed on the knees, it meant that the man being tattooed was his own man, that he would never kneel for anyone. But stars had to be given by the head of the organization — in this case, Papa.
"Yep, that's exactly what he's doing," my brother said. "He's holding me hostage until I can get you back in the fold."
"Fuck!" I shouted as I slammed my hand down on the display case. Everything inside tipped over and jewelry spilled everywhere. "That's not right! He can't do that to you! He can't do that to me!"
"He can do whatever he wants, bratik," he said, shaking his head slowly. "He's the boss."
I stood staring out the front window with my fists clenched by my sides as I thought about how my father's promise to let me see if this business could be a success had been a lie designed to placate me when he knew that he was going to blackmail me back into the fold. I felt he rage boiling up under the surface.
"Don't, Max," my brother said as he gripped my shoulder. "Just don't."
I looked at my brother helplessly and realized that his life now depended on me, and the decisions I would make. My father was ruthless when it came to protecting the business and we were just the price he would pay to take care of things. I reached out and gripped Kristov's shoulders and looked him in the eye as I said, "I won't allow this to happen."
"You may not have a choice," he replied with a grin that chilled my heart.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lexi
Instead of going home, I walked over to Peter's office. His receptionist said he was in a meeting, but told me he'd be done shortly, so I sat down and waited for him to finish. The phone call from Josh had opened a wound that was still way too fresh and I felt the anger begin to surface as I thought about him. He'd dumped me and then called to ask for my help! What nerve!