by TJ Hamilton
The main foyer is glittering with the highest of society from Russia and around the world. Women seem to drip jewels and almost every man puffs on a fat cigar. I hear a piano playing Tchaikovsky from the upper mezzanine level of the hotel. Tench squeezes my hand as soon as he recognises Swan Lake’s dramatic keys on the piano. I glance in his direction and catch his warm smile. I feel myself smiling back at him out of pure appreciation for the moment.
From the corner of my eye, I see a doorman approach me. I turn briskly towards him the moment I feel him nearby.
“I just need to take your coat, ma’am.” His voice is as polite as the harsh accent allows.
Praying that the note in my pocket doesn’t fall out, through some cruel twist of fate, I turn my back towards the man and dip to allow him the ease of removing my heavy coat. The attendant holds it out gently, ready for me to hang gracefully over my arm. The coat is linked over my arm once more, and I turn and take hold of Tench again. I’m glad to have the coat in my possession again, and feel the tension in my shoulders release.
I leave my hat on but swish my brown, slowly growing locks as I walk with Tench. The room feels silent all of a sudden and I feel the eyes within the lobby turn their attention to me and Tench, surrounded by our entourage, as we glide through the grand space towards the huge red and gold grand staircase.
We do not stop to check-in at reception. Filipp offers Tench a subtle nod as we pass. I’m guessing it’s to tell him that it’s all been sorted. We make our way towards the elevator at the top of the stairs. A woman in a body-hugging white turtle-neck dress exits, carrying a fluffy white Persian cat. She looks me up and down before her gaze is locked onto my hat, which strangely resembles the pet within her arms. The jolt of butterflies in my stomach makes me feel anxious.
“Chto eto something-something.” Or at least that’s how it sounds to me. But her low voice is beautiful and velvety. I have no clue what she just said, and look nervously towards Tench.
He smiles and responds with an equally sexy sentence in Russian.
She quickly removes her gaze from my eyes and dips her head. “Forgive my ignorance. Your fur is amazing, ma’am.” Her sultry voice transcends as sexily in her heavily-accented English as it does in her mother tongue.
I look towards the fluffy white ball of feline clutched within her arms and smile. I wish this were an accepted pastime in Australia. It makes me miss my Flossy. The thought draws me to the note in the pocket of my fur coat. I must get to Simon and Liz.
Our entourage fills the elevator and we swiftly arrive on the top floor. Filipp opens the beautifully carved door at the very end of the hall and says, “Dobro pozhalovat Pavarotti nabor,” as we pass him.
“Welcome to the Pavarotti suite,” Tench translates.
“Does he speak any English?” I ask Tench as politely as possible.
“A little …” Filipp responds with a smile. “I’m Filipp. You’re Miranda, no? I hear a lot of a talk about you. My cousin here, he like you very much.” He grins and holds out his hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Filipp.” I look to Tench, who has his arm wrapped around my waist. “I like your cousin just as much,” I lie and kiss Tench on his hair-covered cheek.
Well, not all of it’s a lie. I do like him in some ways. I have to, so that I can stay sane in this process. But I can’t ever forgive him for all the grief he has caused in my life.
I look around the luxurious room. Rich, heavy fabrics adorn the windows and furniture, all in deep reds and expensive gold. A baby grand sits in the middle of the room and another busboy waits patiently next to a tray loaded with buckets of vodka bottles and tins of caviar. I frown at Tench. We’re eating straight away?
The busboy holds his hands behind his back and offers a slight bow. “Please come.” He waves his white-gloved hand towards the red velvet couches. “I’m Aleksandr, the only full-time professional vodka sommelier in all of Russia. Mr Tench, you are a very respected client in our hotel. I’d love for you to try our selection of famous caviars and I will match our premium vodkas with each.”
“Have you ever had Beluga caviar, Miranda?” Tench asks with an excited pitch.
I smile shyly and shake my head. Surprisingly, in all of my high-class living, I haven’t yet tried Russian caviar.
“Ooooh, you’re in for a real treat, gorgeous.” Tench pulls me into him with a squeeze.
He seems to be enjoying our first holiday together. I decide to allow myself to just enjoy tonight and get straight onto work tomorrow morning when I meet up with Mei-Mei, and hopefully my brother and Liz. What if Mei-Mei is a double agent and plans to have us assassinated? Why am I even drawing out scenarios like that? I’m hoping that my paranoia is just an annoying side effect of working undercover for the government, surrounded by murdering egotistical misogynists.
“This suite is named after the famous tenor after he toured Russia. He stayed here throughout the tour.” Tench’s gloating, as only he does best, has me smirking in amusement. “What are you grinning at, gorgeous?” He pulls me to him again and claims total ownership over me with his kiss.
This guy is not fooling around. He would surely kill me if he ever found out the truth about me. I hear the guys around us shuffle uncomfortably at our public display of affection.
“Well, I can’t wait to have Beluga.” Toni claps his hands together loudly.
I open my eyes to find Tench staring at me.
“I’m so happy to be here with you,” I whisper into his ear, and kiss my way back to his lips.
He grips onto me and pulls me to him. I love the way he feels so much that I hate it. He softly grinds against me. Yep, definitely hate it. I throw myself back into his mouth and let him just consume me, despite the audience around us. I smile as he softly bites on my lip. I feel his eyes on me again so my smile breaks into a grin and I chuckle. My eyes open to his coffee-coloured panty droppers. Definitely hate it, I try to convince myself. Finally we pull out of our embrace and make our way over to the two-seater couch left empty for us. I take my hat off and another man dressed in a structured coat with gold trim approaches me from the doorway to the side of the room.
“Would you like me to hang your coat, miss?” the man politely says.
We have our own butler here. Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we? I remove my hat and quickly look towards Tench.
“Can I take this to the bedroom please? I can barely bring myself to leave it out of my sight for even a moment. Plus, it will give me a quick moment to freshen up after our long flight over here.” I bat my lashes.
“Of course, gorgeous.” Tench almost waves me away.
He was a little too eager to get rid of me then. Is there more to his eagerness? Damn, I need to get to some bugs ASAP. Where are our bags already?
“When will our luggage be arriving?” I ask the butler.
“Please see to that immediately,” Tench adds from behind me. “I’d expect it to be here by now.”
The butler scurries back through the door he entered the room from and I wait patiently beside the foyer door for the arrival of our luggage. I look at the various portraits of Pavarotti around the suite as I listen to Tench and the others talk to one another in Russian. I need to find my old ballet roommate immediately if I’m going to stand a chance at understanding what they’re saying to one another.
ELEVEN
I follow the trolley full of designer luggage through a series of grand sitting rooms to the bedroom. I can’t act too eager, so I stroll behind the attendants. No one I meet through Tench can be trusted, Mei-Mei included. I really need to play this as casually as possible. I can’t allow any of them to suspect a thing.
I walk into the bedroom and spot a closet on the far side of the room. I make a beeline for it and hang my coat up delicately. Reaching for the note within the pocket, I slide it down the front of my bra in one fluid movement. I glance behind me and check the busboy, who is still looking the other way. No one even noticed me. I grab my handbag and
make my way into the bathroom and immediately lock the door behind me. I make a quick scan around the room, which I’m hoping to pass off as excitedly checking a room out, and quickly reach for the note within my bra the moment I know I’m alone. I open it up and read the address.
The House Of Books, Dom Knigi
The Bronze Horseman, A. Pushkin
I study the words for a moment. The Bronze Horseman is a famous long poem written by Alexander Pushkin. I’m gathering The House Of Books is a bookstore here in St Petersburg? Maybe I’m supposed to meet them in the Pushkin section? I drop the note in the sparkling water of the toilet bowl and watch as the words disintegrate in front of me. Then I flush the toilet and watch the note disappear.
By the time I’m out of the bathroom, the members of the staff have disappeared. Once again, I check around the room for anyone left behind. Then I get my toiletries bag and race around, placing the odd black circle bug in unassuming points within the room. I need to put them where hotel staff won’t find them. I slide a drawer out of the dresser and stick a bug underneath and then slide it back in, and put another one under the base of a lamp.
I dart through to the bathroom, strip off and jump into the shower, which instantly wakes me up from my jetlag. I pull on a body-hugging long-sleeved red dress. Smoothing over where it hugs the back of my ass perfectly, I let my hair drop to my shoulders. It’s getting longer, slowly, but I do miss my long hair. I slip into knee-high boots and touch up my barely-there makeup.
As I move back towards the lounge room, I notice the noise level has risen since I left, and the spicy scent of cigars hangs in the air. Another four men have joined the party. Out of the new arrivals one looks familiar. Dmitri Kozar, the kingpin. Jackpot! He looks every inch the stereotypical European gangster in his full black outfit, complete with a black leather jacket and gold chain. He’s the first to notice me, and clears his throat. The chatter amongst them ceases immediately and they all turn their attention to me. I smile and try to look as shy as possible as I make my way to Tench. His smile is genuine happiness. Dmitri, on the other hand, looks annoyed by my presence.
“Come here, gorgeous. Come meet my sem’ya, my family,” Tench says, cigar smoke smoothly escaping from his lips as he speaks.
I slide in next to him and run my hand along his leg as I sit. This time a shiver of revulsion rolls across me as I do it. I try and shake it but I see Dima staring at me through narrowed eyes. Did he just see me squirm with Tench then? I watch all eyes track down to my thigh as my dress slips back and exposes the bare skin between my boot and dress. Humph … men. I turn my attention to Tench and kiss him on the cheek to boost his ego and keep him right where I need him.
“This is my favourite cousin, Dima. He has taught me everything I know.” He waves towards my kingpin.
“Ah, young Joe. You made yourself.” Dima’s sentence is broken with a gravelly Russian accent. “And you must be the girl who has stolen this poor boy’s heart.” Dima offers me no hand. He arrogantly leans back into the armchair instead and takes a long draw of his cigar. His eyes slither over me and make the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I think Tench’s eyes are the doorway to his evil, but Dima’s are like a magnifying glass. He doesn’t trust me one bit. He probably shouldn’t ever trust me.
I smile, sickly sweet, and turn my attention back to Tench as he speaks. “And this is Dima’s brother, Misha.” A younger and more handsome version of Dima holds his hand out for me to shake.
“Pleased to meet you finally, Miranda. We were thinking you were a … how do you say? … make up?”
“Make-believe?” I reply with a chuckle. “Nope. I’m real.” I look to Tench and grin.
“I can see that,” Misha cheekily replies before he catches Tench’s glare. “What, cousin?” He playfully shrugs.
“That’s Boris over by the door.” Tench points to a towering Russian who looks like he boxed in every Rocky movie. “And this is my other cousin Luka.”
I meet Luka’s eyes. They’re like swimming pools, as blue as a blue wren. He smirks and I try not to become mesmerised by his lips. The dimples that frame his smile make me want to do things to him, bad things, and let him do bad things to me. His hair is a tuft of thick black waves that I want to run my fingers through. I feel my nipples react. Thank goodness I’m wearing a bra for once. He leans over the coffee table in front of me and stretches his hand out. Once he takes it, he gently kisses my knuckles. Oh not smooth, buddy. I snort obnoxiously under my breath, enough for Tench to hear. He chuckles and squeezes me. I roll my eyes jovially at his cousin’s miserable failure in trying to woo me. It’s a shame, really.
“Or Casanova, as we like to call him,” Dima adds and the whole room erupts with laughter at Luka’s expense.
I can tell that Luka and Misha are trouble together; it’s no wonder Tench is angry with them. To make matters worse, they’re both handsome in ways that make Aussie men look below average. I’ve met their kind of trouble before. Add a vagina and they become instant dickheads. I need to find out everything, but I need to stay the hell away from these two. Even the cheapest temptations can break you when you’re being seduced by Russian vodka and expensive caviar.
I relish every variant of caviar served to me, and every kind of vodka they provide to chase it down with. Wow, these Russians can drink. The men have been surprisingly respectful and have spoken in their broken English for most of the time, but I can tell when they start talking business. They all break out in their mother tongue before quickly reverting back to English, paying me the odd glance to see if I’m listening. It wouldn’t matter if I am right now, I don’t understand a single word they’re saying. This is a slight oversight of the operation. I only know one word in Russian, and that’s thank you. Right now, that isn’t going to help me at all. I feel Tench give me a light squeeze as the conversation becomes more Russian than English.
“I might go and catch up on some sleep and shake this jetlag,” I speak softly to Tench. “Plus, I really want to get up early tomorrow and go to a bookstore to get a copy of Pushkin’s The Bronze Horseman. I am in his hometown, right?” I smile.
Tench smooths my hair back and palms the side of my face. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, gorgeous, so we’ll have to leave it for another day.”
I nod slowly, purposely showing my disappointment.
“Or … you could take one of the boys with you … Luka.” He blasts out Luka’s name.
Everyone else’s conversations stop, and Tench speaks to Luka in Russian. I feel eyes on me before they all laugh at Tench when he finishes his sentence. Whatever he said, it was definitely at my expense.
I lean in to Tench. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to put anyone out. I can just wait around the hotel until you’re done and we can go together.”
My tactic pays off. “Nonsense. I won’t have you wasting this trip waiting for me the whole time. Luka will come by the hotel tomorrow morning and take you to a bookstore just around the corner from here called Dom Knigi. It’s the grandest bookstore in all St Petersburg.”
Cha-ching. I smile at Tench, hiding the true reason for my delight.
“That sounds wonderful, but I wish you were coming with me.” I pout.
“Maybe the next day I’ll take you on a tour of the city. If everything goes to plan here, we should be back in Sydney in a week’s time.”
“I’m so glad I came. Goodnight.” I kiss Tench before I get up. “Goodnight, gentlemen. Please go easy on my man tonight. I may need him later on.” I wink at Tench.
He grins and slaps me on the ass as I walk away. My performance, although sickening to me, seems to work its charm on my targets. Except Dima; I have a feeling he’s going to be a tough egg to crack.
TWELVE
The weather this time of year gets close to zero degrees Celsius, which is about fourteen degrees past freezing for me. Like most Aussies, I think anything below ten is freezing, so I rug up as much as possible before I head out into
Russia’s chilly autumn. I leave my hat on but don’t wear my coat until I’m outside the hotel—apparently that’s custom here. Thank goodness the entire hotel is heated to a toasty level. Today I wear a white cashmere jumper tucked into a white pair of Ralph Lauren jeans with tall brown knee-high boots and a matching brown belt. I bring my hair into a smooth low pony so that I can wear my Cossack hat for the whole day. I like that the height of my Cossack makes me look even taller than I already am. With the added heels, I look almost as tall as Tench as we stride through the foyer.
I hold Tench’s hand and follow slightly behind him to the hotel’s dining area to meet with Luka. I still have no clue what to do once I get to the bookstore that Luka’s about to whisk me away to. I just hope Simon and Liz are monitoring and realise someone is coming with me. They should know Tench by now, though. He’s not going to leave me unattended very often. He never does, so why would he be any different in another country where I can’t speak the language?
Luka gets up from his seat to greet us. The muscles in his arm ripple underneath his white long-sleeved tee as he stretches out to shake Tench’s hand. His dress sense makes him look hotter, if that was even possible. His tight white V-neck t-shirt highlights his strong body underneath, and his jeans look worn and fashionable. Why did I have to get stuck with baby-blue eyes for the day? Is Tench trying to test my loyalty? Here’s hoping Luka isn’t very bright so I can just fish for some information while I’m with him.
“I took the chance to order breakfast for you, cousin. I know you’re probably in a rush, but I think you should eat.” Luka’s deep accented voice could melt underwear away within a sentence.
“You’re right, Luka. I’m always in a rush, so I’ll stay for breakfast. Besides, who could say no to more of this?” He runs his thumb along my jawline. “Miranda, you will love the crepes, or blini, that they do here. They’re almost as sweet as you.”