by A. Star
“You have lovely home,” Irina said, breaking the ice as she walked along beside him with her hands laced loosely behind her back. Her head moved as she let her gaze rove over his expensively decorated home and he found himself pleased that she liked what she saw, or at least that she said she did.
After walking another corridor in silence, they arrived at one of the last rooms in the hall and he opened the door, wheeling back to let her in first. She smiled politely and nodded, stepping inside.
The room had previously been designed as a guest room and was thus fully furnished, but without any personal effects. Cade carried the suitcase in after Gareth and set it on the bed. “I will leave you guys to your introductions,” he said, “and will see you at dinner.” He turned to Irina with a partial bow, which Gareth observed curiously. “Again, a pleasure, Miss Volkova.”
She smiled and nodded, waiting until he left before looking at Gareth. “This is my room, alone?” she asked, obviously noticing the lack of personalized décor.
“Yes,” he replied, “I thought that you would be more comfortable…at first, you know…” He was stammering like he was back in high school. Hell, he hadn’t been this awkward even then. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“That’s very considerate.” He couldn’t tell if she was surprised or not, but he thought she was. Maybe he hoped that she was, because suddenly he wanted to do nice things for her. Not that he’d intended to be not nice to her, but now there was a stronger...compulsion. “Where is your room?” she asked, pulling him from his reverie.
“Just three doors down,” he said. It felt like he couldn’t breathe and he needed to get some air. Her scent was flooding all the air around him and it was intoxicating. Too intoxicating. He had to breathe. He was sweating and feeling light-headed. Even though it had never troubled him before, in ten years, the words “autonomic dysreflexia” flashed through his mind and he needed to escape, just for a little while. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another. I’m sure you’re tired from your flight and will want to get some rest. Dinner will be at seven.”
Tilting her head and blinking her eyes, she reminded him of a curious cat. “As you wish,” she said. It was a concessionary phrase, but she had such command in her being that she seemed to be the one leading, even when there was little to be led or followed.
Feeling even more disoriented than before, his face flushing now, he forced a smile, nodded, and made his escape as rapidly as his wheels would allow.
After the door shut, Irina looked at the wood and wondered about the new world she had allowed herself to get into. Despite what she had outwardly shown, she was quite upset that he hadn’t mentioned such a glaring detail about himself in all of their conversations, and her irritation was enough to blot out the memory of the intense connection she had felt when she first met his eyes, in person. And it brushed away the thought that their connection talking online, which she had thought intense then, was a pale shadow compared to that first gaze...before she realized she’d been lied to. Of course it was her own bloody fault for accepting his excuse and his “connections” to get them out of the extra time and the physical meeting that all other such relationships and arrangements required.
Besides, it wasn’t like she had much room to talk. She came bearing her own considerable secret, only she could hide hers. And she fully intended to.
She had to.
Unable to afford either fear or doubt, she turned to her single, large suitcase and began to unpack, placing her things in the empty drawers.
She had known Gareth was well off, but seeing his house was still...quite a thing to see. Even in this obviously little used room in the far corner of the house, the furnishings were expensive and elegant. The man obviously had good taste, or enough taste to hire someone with really good taste. Their conversations hadn’t included decorating, but had included enough for her to know he was the type to usually hire people to do things. She thought it had been because he was a rich businessman, and that’s what they did, but now that she had seen him, she had a better idea that it was more than that.
As she turned away from the dresser, she noticed a lovely mahogany desk...with a laptop computer on it. She went to it and turned it on, seeing it boot up under an account with her name and her dark eyes widened. He was giving her a computer?
Sitting down, she logged in—no password was required—and found that all basic software was installed, including multiple browsers, and it was already connected to the internet. She logged on, but felt a twinge of fear that it was somehow rigged. Would he use it to spy on her? She had no reason to doubt him, but had reason to doubt everyone. Still, what else could she do? She went to her webmail and logged in, finding a new message from her friend still in Russia.
It was simple: Is everything okay?
Irina smiled. She loved Oksana dearly, and her friend was very concerned for the path Irina had taken. Despite all the conversations and the fact that she felt like she knew Gareth, a good deal at least, Irina didn’t feel easy about it either. Perhaps it was fear of what she’d been forced to run from, or perhaps it was fear of someone here discovering her secret. She had no idea what would happen if they did...
Yes, I’m fine, she typed back. A couple of surprises, but nothing dangerous. Is there any...news?
She knew that Oksana would understand what she meant. Fortunately for her, Oksana wasn’t one of “them,” but she knew enough.
Sitting before the open laptop, she knew her friend well enough to know she’d be sitting in front of her screen waiting for the reply. True to her knowledge, the response came back after just a few minutes.
Peter and his wife are down. Their children are with relatives. You got out just in time. It would have been soon.
Despite relief that she was safe, her heart sunk at the news. At least their kids were okay, but Peter and Maria? She thought they had been safe. They had taken precautions, and were not well known in the community...
Such good people...
Folding her arms across the pretty desk, she laid her head down and wept. Two more were-tigers had been taken out of the world and had she not been on a plane, it was likely she would’ve been soon to follow.
Apparently she had been more tired than she realized, because a few hours later there was a knock on her door. She startled awake, thoughts of Peter and Maria making her heart lurch until she remembered where she was.
“Enter,” she called, but it wasn’t until she heard the voice through the door that she realized she had spoken in Russian. She repeated it in English and the door opened, letting in a willowy young man with a shaggy mane of dark hair and quick blue eyes.
He grinned. “Irina Volkova,” he said, mispronouncing it slightly but he smelled of such enthusiasm that she didn’t mind. “I’m Robert Walker, Gareth’s personal assistant and all sorts of things, but everyone calls me Bobby so you totally should too. If you’re comfortable with that, I know you’re super new here, so whatever makes you happy.” He strode forward and offered his slender hand. “So great to meet you. Gareth has told me very little about you, but I’m around here enough to know enough. And man, you’re just gorgeous.”
As linguistically capable as she was, Irina still had trouble following the verbal torrent flowing out of the boy’s mouth. “Do you always talk this much?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He blinked and then laughed. “Uh, yeah, I’ve been told that I do.”
“You may want to talk a little slower at least,” she suggested but smiled to try to ease the statement and keep it from sounding like a reprimand. She had to make nice here, after all. It would do no good to make enemies. She had enough of those...
“Fair enough!” he replied with no trace of acrimony and they finally shook hands. “Well, it’s just so great to see you. Gareth has actually seemed...” He paused, looking for the right word. “Excited isn’t exactly the word, because that’s not his personality, but I think he’s been looking forward to your c
oming here. He always seemed in a pretty good mood after chatting with you.”
Irina smiled. “I am glad to hear it. I enjoyed getting to know him as well, although it seems that even in all that time, he wasn’t as forthcoming as I’d thought.” She hadn’t meant to say anything, but Bobby’s effusiveness was infectious.
Bobby wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, he mentioned earlier that he hadn’t told you about his injury. That was pretty wrong, I’ll admit, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s really not. That was just kind of an epic fuck-up on his part, but I’ll hope you’ll give him a second chance.”
He had no idea how little ability she had to not give him a second chance. “Of course,” she said.
“Great!” He grinned, just so damn happy. “Anyways, I came up because it’s time for dinner but we didn’t see you. I wanted to make sure that you were okay. Were you asleep? I’m sorry if you were and I woke you up, but I thought you might be hungry.”
Before she could answer in words, her stomach rumbled audibly. They both laughed and she nodded. “Dinner would be good.”
He led her down the original corridor she’d come through and then around a few corners and another hall, or maybe two—she was never going to find her way back on her own—before finally reaching a dining room. She saw three place settings, with the man she’d met earlier—Cade—behind one of them, and no sign of Gareth. This knit her pale brows.
“Will Gareth not be joining us?” she asked.
Bobby looked embarrassed, but Cade smiled suavely. “Something came up that he had to attend to, I’m afraid,” he said, “but he asked that Bobby and I provide you with hopefully suitable company through dinner.”
Irina did her best to not look put out, although she felt it. Doubt was already seeding itself inside her as to the wisdom of coming here, and this turn of events did nothing for it. Still, she doubted it was the fault of either of the men that were here, so she smiled and took the seat offered to her. “I’m sure you will do fine.”
There were drinks already on the table, but she chose to keep to the water tonight. She held her liquor better than any human, but decided it would make a better impression to not go too crazy. Even though she felt like downing everything in sight to dull the nerves which had electrified since she left Moscow.
“So, Irina,” Bobby began effervescently, “tell us a little bit about yourself! Gareth has been tight-lipped as always. I can’t speak for Cade, but I’m dying to know.”
Despite her anxiety, he made her smile. “In Russia, I was student. I did not finish my schooling, however.”
“What were you studying to be?” Cade asked. He was far more sedate, but looked no less curious. She sensed no aggression in their postures, but perhaps some wariness in the black man’s frame. He didn’t know if he could trust her, and that was wise, but in this situation, it was more on her to not trust them. Her husband-to-be was already two in the hole, as they would say.
“Nurse,” she replied simply, sipping her water. This was going to be an area of tight rope walking, but expected.
“Really?” Bobby beamed. “We’ll have a lot in common then, because I’m an R.N.”
She tilted her head. “I thought you were...personal assistant.”
He laughed easily. “I am, but I’m both. Given Gareth’s medical condition, I have a range of duties. Being his personal assistant is more complex than most.”
Irina nodded in understanding. She could imagine that it was.
Cade was still watching her, a cup of something amber-colored in his hand that he was not relinquishing his grip of. “May I ask why you didn’t finish your degree?” There was an edge in his voice that she didn’t like. The tiger within bristled, but she kept it tightly leashed.
“You mean before shipping myself across continent and ocean to reach here?” she asked with a polite smile, yet they all heard the tone.
Bobby’s eyes widened and he looked expectantly at Cade, who showed no outward reaction, but it was obviously a chess match now. “Something like that,” he said plainly.
Irina brushed her hair back over her shoulder and lifted her chin. “My parents died,” she said blandly. “Together in car crash, in St Petersburg.” Their dying together was true, but it was not a car crash that did it. “After that, schooling lose some meaning for me. I want a change. Russia is full of painful memory.” Her accent thickened a little when she spoke of her parents, emotion still raw in her.
Cade seemed to deflate a little. “My condolences for your loss,” he said and it sounded sincere, if a little abashed. “I can understand wanting a change, but why sell...” He trailed off and his eyes made it clear he realized his slip.
“Why sell myself to the highest bidder?” she coolly finished for him. He had the good grace to look embarrassed and started to speak again, but she cut him firmly off. “I do nothing of sort, Mr. Morgan.” Her tone began a little harsh, because it was an important distinction, but then it softened. “I simply use the internet, like so many do today. It was much like any dating site where you meet people. I was just looking to meet people further away from home, somewhere I could start new life and not be alone. Everyone deserve to not be alone, yes?”
Bobby’s lips were pursed trying not to smile, or smirk, while Cade deflated a little further and looked into his glass. After a long moment, he looked up again and some of that edge was gone. “You’re right,” he conceded, “and I apologize. I hope that you can forgive me, Ms. Volkov, and that perhaps we can be friends.”
She smiled and accepted his apology with a nod. “I’m sure we can,” she said. “As it looks, I will be here for long time. So, please, call me Irina.”
After that, the rest of dinner passed very nicely and Irina found herself relaxing and enjoying the conversation. Once Cade warmed up, he was quite affable and even charming, while Bobby was a cross between an excited five year old and a hyper puppy. It was endearing, all the same.
Bobby walked Irina back to her room once their meal was done and Cade left for home, as he apparently didn’t live there. Just was over a lot.
“It’s been really great getting to know you, Irina,” Bobby said. “I’m sure things will go just fine for you and Gareth.” He paused when they reached her door and had she not known better, she might have worried he was going to kiss her good night with how long he lingered before finally saying what was obviously on his mind. “When Gareth said he was bringing over a girl from Russia, I was honestly a little worried.”
She frowned. “Why?” He had seemed anything but worried all through dinner.
He smiled ruefully. “Well, I’m gay,” he admitted. “And I know the climate over there isn’t too great for guys like me these days. I was a little worried about how we’d get along. Or what your feelings on the matter might be.”
Understanding dawned and she laughed softly. “Don’t worry so,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He was lightly framed and only an inch or two taller than her. “I do not mind such things. To me, being a little...different is a good thing.”
He grinned outright with relief. “Great,” he said. “Well, good night, Irina. I’ll see you in the morning!” He practically bounded down the hall.
She watched him go with a shake of her head and another laugh, letting herself inside her sterile bedroom. She immediately went to the computer and checked her email. There was a mail from Oksana, but all it said was, Please, just be careful.
If she had thought traveling around the world would free her from fear, apparently she had been mistaken. The ups and downs of the day settled on her and she stretched out on the bed, falling asleep before she knew it with her clothes still on.
She woke late the next morning and stretched. There was a full moon coming, and in addition to the usual itch between her shoulder blades, she was nervous. How was she going to handle it here? Surely she’d be able to slip out for a little while after dark... No, she wasn’t going to worry about it now.
After a shower and a change
of clothes, she ventured out of her bedroom and went in search of the elusive Gareth.
To her consternation, he continued to be elusive as she instead found Cade in what seemed to be a library and office in one. She admired the room as she entered through the open door and then looked at him. “I am sorry to intrude, but I am looking for Gareth. He seems to be hiding from me, I think.” She smiled.
“He’s just busy with work,” Cade explained, though she got the feeling he was covering for his friend. “Running his own company, and one this size, keeps him going a lot of the time.”
“Yes, he told me of it,” she said. “He said that his company makes sporting equipment, like for American football.”
“That’s precisely it,” Cade agreed. He got up from behind the desk and waved her to a seat on the mahogany-colored leather couch. “When you see the football field and there are goal posts, or the padded dummies they use in training, his company makes those.” He paused and frowned slightly. “He really didn’t tell you about his injury?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. She eyed him a moment. “Was it in one of these sporting events?”
Now he smiled. “You’re very perceptive,” he said. “Yes, he was a football player. We played on the college team together. He was the quarterback, and we were both headed for the pros, but he wanted to finish his senior year.” He shook his head sadly. “Car crash, before the division championship.”
Irina wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so she shook her head sadly. It explained a lot of things, she realized. In their conversations, there had been occasional oddities or slips of speech, but always so minor that she never thought much of it. Now they made sense. But what didn’t make sense was that man and this one. He had been very different when they had talked so much online. He certainly hadn’t avoided her.
“It must have been hard,” she said softly. “At least he survived.”
A knowing look passed through Cade’s eyes. “Right, unlike your parents.”