Strictly Need to Know

by MB Austin

  A little yellow ski boat zipped between her catamaran and the motor yacht without warning. The cat pitched and nearly changed course on its own. Holding the tiller lightly in one hand and the mainsheet in the other, Maji turned and yelled after the oblivious stinkpotters. Not that they could hear her over that motor. Idiots.

  To keep a better eye on the Lucky Lady, Maji came about, jibing to set a new course that would look like she was just dinking about inside the harbor. No need to get too close to the motor yacht, which was slowing almost to the point of losing helm control as it neared the inside of the breakwater.

  “Oh,” she said out loud, as Angelo and Sergei worked together to throw out light anchors from the bow and stern. “They found a spot for the meeting, Frank. I’m just going to sail around casually for a while. All good in there?”

  “Yeah. They’re taking turns watching you through the binoculars.”

  “Tell Bubbles I said, Dinner and a show.”

  There was a brief pause, and then he said, almost apologetically, “She called you a brat.”

  Maji started to laugh, enjoying being on the water again, even if she was missing a nice plate of eggs and hash. With a homemade biscuit. And coffee. Well, maybe the Benedetti-Khodorov alliance would be a quick deal.

  The little yellow ski boat passed by again, slowly this time. The two men inside didn’t look relaxed, or dressed for a day in the sun. One had a suit jacket on, and the other a polo shirt but also a large white wrap around his left hand. The hand she had smashed in the car door behind Mona’s. Dammit.

  They recognized her as well, and Maji thought about tacking again and making a run for the channel. No—if they raced after her, there could be a collision, harbor police, unwanted attention. And if they didn’t, she’d be too far away if the meeting went south and they decided to board the Lucky Lady.

  So Maji gave the two men a polite wave, one boater to another, and pretended not to notice as they crept up on her. Just to buy time, she tacked a couple more times, forcing them to change course to stay as close as they clearly wanted to. “Frank,” she said, “I might be out here awhile, making friends. Keep everyone cool until I get back, okay?”

  “Sure, hon.”

  Maji led the ski boat toward the breakwater, close enough to the shallows to anchor it. They were such good followers, she was tempted to zip toward the shoals she knew were nearby and let them ground themselves in pursuit. Now that would be fun to watch. But again, likely to piss somebody off. And this was Play Nice with Others Day on the big white boat with all the important players onboard.

  Maji sighed and pointed the Hobie at the ski boat, letting the main luff as she got close, to slow it down. The two Russians looked alarmed and reached for their pistols. “Friends,” she called to them in Russian, showing both her palms even while one held the tiller. With her empty hand, she grabbed the coiled docking line, held it up for them to see, and tossed it across the gap between the two boats.

  “What the fuck?” Bubbles said.

  Rose resisted the urge to grab the binoculars from her. “What?”

  “She’s, um…rafting up with the yellow boat.”

  “Let me see.” Rose put the binoculars to her eyes and scanned until she found Maji. Who appeared to be holding a friendly conversation with two strangers, perched on the edge of the ski boat’s small cockpit.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Frank said. “Hon…?”

  Rose tore herself away from the far view long enough to glance at him. “What?”

  “She’s fine out there. She wants us to just hang out here till she comes back in. Okay?”

  Rose looked to Bubbles. She knew Maji better than anyone, even if she didn’t know what was going on out there, either. “Should we try to help? Somehow.”

  Bubbles asked her in Spanish, without looking toward Frank, “How much do you trust this guy?”

  “Completely,” Rose answered, also in Spanish.

  Bubbles shrugged. “Then do what she says. ’Cause apparently she’s the boss of all of us today. Have another mimosa.”

  They finished their plates off while watching Maji chat with her new boating pals. “She looks relaxed,” Rose said. “Can you tell what they’re talking about?”

  “Nah. They’re talking Russian.” Frank motioned the server over. He gave her a charming smile and three hundred dollars. “We’ll give you the table back just as soon as we can. Don’t want to be any bother.”

  “No bother at all, sir.” She offered more mimosas and graciously took their orders for coffee and tea instead.

  Rose pushed back from the table. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  Frank looked worried. “Um, I should—”

  “No, you really shouldn’t,” Bubbles said, nearly rolling her eyes. “I can escort the lady to the ladies’ room.”

  As they washed their hands, alone for the moment, Rose asked, “You really aren’t worried about her, out there with those…men?”

  “Mysterious are the ways of the Maji. If she needed help, she’d have sent a message by now.”

  Rose toweled her hands off. “So we shouldn’t slip out, steal another boat, and go save her?”

  Bubbles laughed, and gave Rose a squeeze. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  Nearly an hour later, Frank succumbed to the bottomless cups of coffee in his system, promising to be back in a flash. Rose passed the binoculars to Bubbles, who scanned back and forth between the two boats quietly for a moment. Then she sat back with an “Ooh!”

  Rose took the binoculars. Both boats were pulling anchor. She looked around for Frank and spied him working his way back between full tables of diners.

  He gave her a wink and a smile. “They’ll be back in a minute. Says to meet her at the car.”

  Rose didn’t wait for any more permission. She headed for the dock.

  At the top of the ramp, Rose realized she didn’t know the code. What would she do if she reached Maji, anyway? She stepped back, torn between the desire to see for herself that Maji was safe and the instruction to meet at the car instead. A family of three with a dock cart arrived, punched in the code, and held the gate politely for her. I’ll beg forgiveness later.

  Seconds later, Rose heard Frank on the dock behind her, calling for her to stop. She ignored him, her only thought to reach Angelo and Maji as quickly as possible. Ri, she corrected herself. Call her Ri.

  She turned onto the connecting dock that led out to the yacht slips and caught sight of Angelo. Next to Gino and Uncle Lupo, he smiled and shook hands with three men Rose didn’t recognize. She slowed her walk, uncertain now. Angelo was clearly fine. But where was Maji?

  Angelo spotted Rose, and waved cheerfully. “Hey, how was brunch?”

  “Delicious.”

  “Told you you’d like it. Can’t beat the view, huh?” He turned to the men cluttering the dock behind him. “Where are my manners? Rose, this is Yuri Khodorov. And Sander. And their guy, Sergei.”

  Rose exchanged the required pleasantries, one eye behind them, on Maji and the two men who had captured her.

  “We’re heading home,” Angelo said, with a gesture for her to clear the path. “I’ll meet you there, okay?”

  Frank, at her elbow now, gave a little tug. “Will do.”

  Rose had no choice but to back up and turn the corner, stepping back onto the larger dock again. She waited as the men made a single file, walking toward her. From behind them, she heard, “’Scuse me. ’Scuse me. ’Scuse me.”

  Maji looked irate as she reached Angelo. She rattled off some angry-sounding Spanish, one finger pressed into his sternum.

  “I’ll make this up to you, I promise,” Angelo replied, flicking a glance toward the men waiting behind him. “But right now, I gotta…”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you gotta.” She flicked his chest and started off toward the parking lot.

  Angelo took a few steps after her, then looked back at his business associates. He stopped by Rose and Frank. “Don
’t let her take off alone,” he instructed, his voice pitched for all to hear. “Get her home and cooled down. I’ll be there in a bit.”

  Angelo stopped Sander as they were about to split up into two groups to leave the marina. “Hey, I got that thing in my car for you. Can I borrow you a minute?”

  Sander looked to his father, got a noncommittal look, and said, “Sure.”

  Angelo opened the Mercedes’s door and reached inside, then turned back to Sander.

  “What thing are you—” Sander started. “Oh. Having a moment, are we? Fine, go ahead.”

  “You think it’s funny? Ri could’ve been hurt. What were you thinking?”

  “Same as you, apparently. That we should have someone nearby, just in case. I have better someones, that’s all.”

  If only you knew. “Well, it worked out. But still. You can’t pull something like that again. It’ll set Gino off.”

  “Not to worry. We’re partners, now, right?”

  “Right.” Angelo simmered himself down. “Actually, that went smoother than I expected.”

  “Yes. When your uncle Gino listens to Uncle Lupo, things go well. We should keep Lupo dialed in.”

  “Count on it.”

  “Okay then,” Sander said. “I wish I could kiss you. Right now.”

  “I wish you could, too.”

  “Well, see you Tuesday.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Maji waited until Rose closed her door to speak. “Did Bubbles at least stay out of sight?”

  “Went out the back, like you asked,” Frank replied. “Sorry I let Rose—”

  “Skip it.” Maji looked at Rose, who appeared to be fuming quietly. “Just take us home. I’m starving.”

  After giving her the silent treatment for several minutes, Rose looked ready to burst with some withheld thought.

  “What?” Maji asked.

  “Were those the same men who tried to kidnap me?”

  “Just the one. With the…” Maji pointed to her hand. Where were her words? “Bandage. That’s Vlad. He hopes you don’t hold that against him, by the way.”

  Rose laughed incredulously. “Now he’s my friend, too?”

  “Yep. One big family now. That’s how these things work.”

  “But you didn’t know that when you just…handed yourself over. What if the meeting didn’t go well?”

  Ah. She’d frightened Rose. Got it. Maji sighed. “Then I’d have been where Angelo needed me—as close as possible.”

  Rose blanched visibly. “Well, thank goodness it went well, then. And…I’m sorry for not staying out of sight, as ordered. I was worried about you.”

  “I know. But if you can’t let me do what I’m here for, there’s always the safe house.”

  Rose glared at her for the full length of the long driveway. Maji felt pinned in place, and she didn’t want to look away. As Frank pulled the car into its space, Rose leaned toward her. “Don’t you dare,” she said, and flung her door open.

  Maji hung back while Frank let Rose into the house, then followed them inside. Rose angry was a force to be reckoned with. That was good. Better than frightened, and taking foolish chances. Or trying to protect her, and getting someone hurt, like… Lighten up, Rios. She’s not Iris.

  Maji shook off the thought and headed for the kitchen to rustle up some food. She stopped short at the doorway. Rose was tossing ingredients out of the fridge and thwonking items on the counter with barely contained force. Still angry, then.

  “You don’t need to cook for me,” Maji said.

  Rose kept moving, not looking at her. “It’s the least I can do. You’re giving up your vacation, putting yourself in danger—”

  “Hey,” Maji said, catching a head of lettuce before it bounced off the counter island. She stepped between Rose and the counter, careful not to touch her but close enough that Rose had to look at her or move away. “I’m sorry you were scared. But I need you to trust me, my decisions. I promised to keep you safe.”

  “I wasn’t thinking straight,” Rose acknowledged. “You were out there so long, and I couldn’t do anything, and I just wanted to make sure…” She closed the little distance between them, leaning her forehead against Maji’s.

  Maji felt Rose relax, with their heads touching, like they could figure this out together, if only they tried. She put her hands on Rose’s hips, intending to push her back a step, give herself room to think again. Instead, she pulled her forward, tipping her face up to meet Rose’s.

  The second their lips met, everything that was not Rose—the feel of her against Maji, her scent, her taste—faded away. The time between their first night and this moment disappeared. Rose’s hands found her face, cupping her jaw gently as the kiss deepened. All thought stopped, Maji’s brain and senses taken over by feeling, until the front door slammed.

  “Hey, Frank,” Angelo boomed. “You seen Ri?”

  Maji jerked back to the kitchen, panting. She caught Rose’s eye, and they both took a step back. It hurt, like a bandage pulled off a healing wound.

  “In the kitchen,” Frank answered. “But don’t go in—they’re making out.”

  Maji swore under her breath and slipped around to the end of the counter island. How could she be so out of it she didn’t even know Frank had seen them? “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Rose had responded to Frank’s words with a charming blush and a hand over her impish smile. Now she curled it into a fist under her chin, the fire in her eyes banked but not extinguished. “I broke a rule, you broke a rule. Let’s call it even.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” Angelo said from the doorway. To Rose, he added, “Give us a minute?”

  Rose nodded, and stepped toward the doorway. As she passed Maji, she paused and said quietly, “And if you expect either of us to follow your rules, don’t be in my room tonight.”

  Chapter Ten

  Maji clipped along up the hill behind Angelo in her awkward chunky heels, struggling to keep up. Add the tight jeans, hoop earrings, makeup, hairspray, and push-up bra to the ensemble, and Maji almost missed the missions that only called for the head-to-toe drapery of the abaya, or even a burqa. They were a hell of a lot quicker to get into, at least. She touched the fake piercing on her belly button, one last check to make sure it wouldn’t fall off.

  “This is a little over the top, Ang. What kind of women you been bringing around?”

  “None that wanted to stay and meet the folks. But trust me, one look and Gino will have no worries about you. First impressions, right?”

  “Well, let’s dial it back soon. Ricky’s already seen me in riding gear, and we could’ve been seen on our run, too.”

  “So they’ll see a scrappy kid from Brooklyn, trying to fit in. Speaking of which, bring on the moxie but remember not to push too far. Specially with Gino.”

  Maji grabbed his wrist before he could open the Big House’s front door. “I was that kid, you asshole. So whatever comes out, roll with it.”

  Angelo led her by the hand into the dining room, where the family was already assembled. Maji recognized the women from the photos in their files. Gino’s wife Paola, dressed expensively if not in particularly good taste, had added highlights to her hair recently. Nonna RoseMarie Benedetti had aged some; Sienna looked about the same, a twentysomething with the same black-black hair as her cousin but little resemblance otherwise. The slight orange cast of Sienna’s spray tan clashed with her yellow top.

  “’Bout time,” Nonna announced. All heads swiveled toward them, looking Maji over.

  “Sorry, Nonna,” Angelo said, as Maji headed for the matriarch. “Everybody, Ri. Ri, everybody.”

  Maji leaned in toward the matriarch, extending her hand. “So nice to meetcha, Mrs. B.”

  The elderly woman just looked at her, owl eyed, ignoring the proffered hand. She squinted at Maji’s bejeweled navel. “Your midriff is showing.” She gestured toward the piercing. “Why would anyone do that to themselves?”

  Angelo grabbed Maji’s han
d. “We’ll be right back.”

  Behind them, Sienna’s voice rang out. “Nonna!”

  Angelo led Maji up the stairs to Ricky and Sienna’s suite of rooms and started planting bugs. “Grab something to put on.” He plucked a dress shirt off the back of a chair and flung it at her. “Here.”

  She sniffed it and frowned, holding it at arm’s length. “Does he bathe in that crap? I’ll find something else.”

  “No time, babe,” Angelo replied, tugging on her free hand. “I gotta hit three more rooms, bing, bang, boom.”

  Rose looked up as the couple reentered the dining room. Maji wore a slightly sour expression and a starched white dress shirt, open down the front so that her décolletage still showed, but tied at the bottom over the offending bare skin. The smell of Ricky’s cologne reached her from across the table. This woman, Rose realized, she would not have flirted with at a diner. Or invited home. Rose could almost imagine Maji as an entirely separate person than this Ri.

  Gino pulled the cork on the wine bottle in his hands. “Sit already! Supper’s getting cold.” He bowed his head and the family followed suit, while Nonna spoke a brief prayer in Italian. All heads bobbed up at the amen, and for a few minutes chaos reigned, as plates circulated and competing discussions sprang up.

  “Can I have some more manicotti, please?” Maji asked during a lull in the conversations. As she helped herself from the platter Angelo held, she took a moment to praise the cook, the farmers, and the house, all in Italian.

  Oh, thought Rose, there she is. Under the tacky clothes, overdone makeup, and attitude, Maji peeked out at her.

  “You speak Italian?” Nonna questioned.

  “Solo un po,” Maji replied sheepishly. “I got that line from TV. You like cooking shows?”

  “No,” Nonna replied, turning her full attention back to her plate.

  “She loves Julia Child,” Sienna said in a faux whisper, leaning across the table toward their guest.

  “But you do talk Russian, right?” Gino asked. “Made some points with Khodorov.”