“Well that depends on what kind of day you’ve had,” Royal said, coyly. “If you’ve had a day like mine, then you take everything to the head.”
“Oh, I see,” Dmitry grinned, utterly fascinated.
Leering back, she poured herself a shot of the Jewel of Russia vodka. Boldly, she took the shot and set the glass softly on the table. With her index finger, she pushed it farther away from her. Instantly, she feelsthe magic burn rush through her body. She wanted to cough but held it in – defiant until the end. Her watery eyes told on her as she tried not to gag.
The stranger looked at the empty glass, at the strange woman and laughed aloud.
“You look like flower and drink like weed.” His dimple deepened.
Following her direction like a good host, he set his wine glass down and poured himself a shot of the expensive vodka. He toasted her again and drank it quickly. The contents went down smooth and with no tingle.
His Adam’s apple barely moved. Then, he set his shot glass softly beside hers and smiled back.
“I like your attitude,” he said leaning over. “Tell me, what is your name?” His eyes sparkled like diamonds.
“It’s Royal,” she said, placing her napkin on her lap.
“Excuse me?”
“My name is Royal Stone.” She looked up at him under long dark eyelashes.
“Where did you get a name like that?”
“I don’t know.” Royal poured another shot of vodka. She started to feel a little more relaxed and maybe even a little buzz. “Don’t know my parents. I lived with a foster family until I was 18, and then I went to college. I graduate next week, and the company that I had landed a job with went under this week,” she explained.
“Oh, so, you’re out job hunting?” the man asked, more intrigued.
“Exactly,” she said, taking another shot.
Dmitry eyed her. “Try the duck. I think you’ll like it even more than the vodka.” His silky eyebrow arched again.
“Oh, sorry.” Royal smiled with more ease, putting her hand over her mouth. The alcohol gave her the edge that she needed. Plus, she liked how sometimes the strange man missed words when he spoke. English was definitely not his first language.
Dmitry smiled. “So, you’re looking for a job doing what?” He continued.
“Is this an interview?”
He shrugged his large shoulders. “It could be.” He sat back in his chair relaxed.
“Shouldn’t I at least knowyour name then?” She was mildly sarcastic.
“Wait. You don’t know my name?” The stranger winked his eye at her. “Everyone knows who I am.”
His voice was now a low whisper as if he were telling her a huge secret.
“I don’t know who you are,” she replied, whispering as well. She tasted the duck. Absolutely delicious.
“It caught you by surprise, did it not?” He looked at her plate, forgetting their conversation for a minute. “I told you. The best duck in Mid-South. This dish was featured in…Memphis Magazine one month ago.” He slapped his large hand on his equally large thigh in satisfaction. He was always pleased with a happy customer, even if she was not paying.
Royal nodded in satisfaction and at his enthusiasm. “Yes, it is very good,” she confirmed. “The best duck I’ve ever had.”
“Yes, after this, everything else will be all downhill.” He looked at her for a moment, then shifted back to their conversation with a large smile on his angelic face. “My name is Dmitry Medlov.” He stuck his hand out across the table and offered it to Royal.
She wiped her hands on her crimson-colored napkin and shook his hand gingerly, feeling his large fingers wrap around her entire hand.
“Nice to meet you. Like I said, I’m Royal Stone.” After a few drinks, she was starting to feel a little better.
“Nice to meet you too, Royal.” His eyes locked on hers, lingering. “Tell me what subject are you getting your baccalaureate degree in?”
“Business. Umm…would you like to see my resume?”
“You have it with you?” he asked, watching her as she quickly turned to her little tattered bag. His head tilted as he watched her every move.
Her long thin fingers rummaged through the well orga-nized folders and pulled out an off-white cotton sheet of paper. It was the most pristine thing in her disheveled little existence.
Proudly, she reached out and passed it to him. Her resume. Her life on one miserable page. He pulled his glasses from his jacket and placed them on. She was surprised for a minute. Although, they did make him look even more distinguished, he didn’t look like the type that would wear glasses. The silver wire rimmed frames sat perfectly on his chiseled narrow nose, across his suntanned face and his over his dreamlike eyes.
“Is this your restaurant?” she asked, interrupting his attention as she looked around.
“Dah.” He nodded but did not look up from the paper.
“Does that word mean yes?” Another interruption. She looked back at him.
He glanced up at her, “Dah.” His voice was silky smooth. He looked at her with a strange gaze then looked back down her resume. Royal was finally quiet, giving him a moment to digest her unworthiness.
Dmitry read her resume carefully with no expression on his face. She could not tell if he was impressed or like many of her other interviewers - unmoved, indifferent and ready to see her out of the door.
“And you graduate in one week?” he finally asked, placing the resume beside him on the table and taking off his glasses.
“Yes. I graduate next Tuesday.” She sat up a little straighter.
“Tell me, Royal. Are you particular about what job you would like?” He put his glasses back inside of his coat jacket and focused in on her, a hint of interest on his face.
“I’d like a job with the potential to move up in the or-ganization, but I’m willing to start anywhere.”
Dmitry smiled. “That is sign of hard worker,” he said pointing at her. “You’ve never been given anything. And so, you know how to work hard to get it or take it.”
“If I need to, dah.” She smiled.
Dmitry’s eye twitched. She was quick and spunky, and he was completely paralyzed by her natural beauty. He had been struck since the moment he opened his eyes, and she was standing in front of him while he played the violin.
She had appeared like a dream, standing there like she had just fallen out of the sky. He had to blink when he saw her. He blinked hard to make sure that she was real and not some figment of his imagination, some illusion due to his aching loneliness. He knew that she was real when he saw the sweat glistening from her body. It was the only sign that God had given him to let him know his angel was human.
Her long, shapely figure was concealed under her baggy clothes. Her gaze spoke of trust, not deceit. She was refreshingly innocent. Her bright eyes told her entire story. She was what he was playing for and praying for…a sign.
“So what do you think?” she askedfinally.
“You’ve done good work,” he said, realizing that he had zoned out far too long. “I’d like to make you a proposal.” He smirked at how fluid that statement was for him.
“Okay,” Royal said, putting down her knife and fork. She listened on attentively.
“I’m opening new business not far from here. Really just couple blocks over. I need someone who is willing to give it their all. It’s a new clothing store. I call it Dmitry’s Closet. It’s full of nicest clothes for women. However, I need young shop keeper for this one. Do you have kids, husband, something like this?”
“No,” Royal said, clearly seeing that this guy knew nothing about HR. One was never supposed to ask those types of personal questions on an interview, but she didn’t care, as long as he gave her the job.
“Good. This is just what I want to hear,” he said, slyly. “The person that runs my shop will have nice apartment just above the store. You see, I own entire building. You have the degree, the professionalism, the drive I need to
make Dmitry’s Closet into Memphis’ next big boutique.”
“So, you want me to manage your store and in ex-change you’ll give me an apartment?” She was suddenly unimpressed. It was only half of what she needed.
“No…I want to offer you much more,” Dmitry said, excited about her ability to bargain.
“How much more?” Royal asked, leaning into him in anticipation.
“As long you work for me, you have this and to start off sixty grand. You have to hire part-time staff, do inventory, and keepbooks. But I see from your resume that you have experience with this.” He knew in this economy, he was offering her a lot more than he had to, but he wanted to keep her, even though her experience was actually very limited.
“$60,000?” Royal sucked in her own breath.
“Are you starting to be interested now, Royal Stone?” he smiled.
“Of course. Since it is close, can we go there and see it?” Suddenly, the duck was not at the top of her list. She could eat later, after she had secured this job.
Dmitry smiled a little smile of success. She had taken the bait. He would have easily paid her $80,000 to take the job, to keep her near. Now, he was simply saving twenty grand.
“Yes. After you finish your meal, I’ll take you over.”
Dmitry smiled at her. He could see the passion in her eyes. She was a young businesswoman. Her ambition would drive his newest investment, and if she wasn’t careful she would drive him to give her much more.
“Anatoly, get my car to the front. I want to take Ms. Stone to my new shop,” he ordered, absently. His eyes were still fixed on hers.
Chapter 2
When Royal finished her late lunch with Dmitry, he escorted her back out to the front of the restaurant, where his silver SRL McLaren Mercedes-Benz was parked waiting for them. He opened the door for her and waited as she hesitantly loaded herself and her little bag inside. He slid on his shades as he closed the door behind her and made his way to the driver’s seat.
Royal watched him carefully. She was young, barely 23, but she knew money when she saw it. And if his car was any indication, Dmitry was very wealthy.
Dmitry drove calmly through the streets, not caring for theatrics. He did not have to prove himself. And his confidence was apparent, probably because he was driving a four-hundred thousand dollar car and wearing a suit that cost more than her tuition. His long body fit perfectly into the gray leather chairs. His curly blonde hair shined like spun gold in the sunshine.
He looks perfect, Royal thought to herself as she glimpsed over at him.
Dmitry looked over and smiled softly at her.
As quickly as they had pulled onto the streets of down-town Memphis, they were pulling off into the back alley of a renovated building. Dmitry parked and helped Royal out of the car.
“I want you to get full effect,” he said, taking her hand. “So, we must go around to front.”
The building sat across from the fire department and the National Civil Rights Museum only entries away from the popular boutique Muse. His place was swank and modern. A real attention getter. The architect had paid extra close attention to the detail of the brick masonry and custom limestone design. The boutique screamed money, even before she saw the inside.
“You believe in facing the competition head on,” Royal observed, looking at the customers pile into the neighboring store.
“This is healthy, yes? The customers now have true variety.” He took the keys and opened the huge wooden double doors that mildly reminded her of his restaurant.
“These doors are beautiful,” she noted.
“I had them flown in from Moscow,” he said proudly. “Well, here it is.”
As the doors opened, the light shined in on the dark boutique. It was clean and empty, awaiting clothes to fill its hollow shell. Dmitry’s Closethad massive potential. The floors were a shiny alabaster wood. The mirrors were over exaggerated and designed with beautiful gold frames. Crystal chandeliers hung from the tall ceilings illuminating the room with sparkling light as the sun shined in from the front door. The large windows were covered in beautiful stain glass and the walls were painted in Dmitry’s signature crimson.
Royal shook her head. “It’s so…beautiful.” She touched the mirrors and looked around in awe. “This whole place is like a dream.”
“This is what I want. When women come in to buy best in clothing, I want them to feel as though they are in best that Memphis has to offer. I, of course, had to give it a little old time Russian flare.”
“Yeah, like the restaurant,” Royal chimed in delighted.
“This is what you business majors call buying into the vision. Yes?”
“Exactly,” she giggled.
Dmitry looked down at her and bit his lip, as he cap-tured a glimpse of the beauty mole on her neck – ever so feminine, ever so inviting. Her bright brown eyes gazed up at him oblivious to his thoughts. In her mind, she just wanted a job. However, he wanted to reach down, grab her soft, caramel face and kiss her satin pink lips. Buthe could see she would resist him. He stepped away, removing himself from the close proximity of her body and the heat that she naturally radiated.
“I think that I’ve definitely bought in, and I haven’t even seen the apartment.”
“It’s upstairs,” Dmitry said quietly,bringing himself back from his trance. “And there is surprise for you. Well, not you specifically, but for whomever, I choose for job.”
Royal followed him out the shop into a beautiful back office with a dark cherry wood credenza, continued Russian elegance and expensive furniture.
“This is where you will keep inventory,” he said, barely stopping so that she could see the office.
She followed carefully, felling a little weary of where she was going. What if Dmitry had only one intention – to get her upstairs and rape her?
Her heart fluttered at the thought. No one knew where she was or what she was doing. As quickly as all of this had happened, it could end. She stopped on the first step and looked up.
“What is the matter?” he turned and looked at her staring at him like a deer in headlights.
Royal did not speak.
“Strange man, strange place?” he asked, realizing her concern.
“Something like that,” she answered, sighing in relief that he understood.
“Do you have cell phone?”
“No.”
“Here, use mine.” He pulled his Blackberry from his coat jacket and offered it to her. “Call someone. Anyone. Tell them where you are. And that way, you have peace of mind.”
Royal took the phone and looked at it. She really didn’t have anyone to call. The thought mildly angered her. No best friends. No sisters. No brothers. Her adoptedparents would not be at their apartment this early in the afternoon. She shook off her pain and looked back up.
“Whatever, just show it to me,” she snapped and walked past him on the stairs.
“This is what I’m trying to do.” He put the phone away, realizing that this must be a very touchy subject for her.
There was only one door on the second level of the entire building. It was a sprawling creation with the same wooden cherubs that were carved on the front of the restaurant doors at Mother Russia. Again, he took a key and opened the large oak double doors to an airy, romantic loft.
As the doors swung open, a fresh cinnamon aroma drifted out to greet her. He walked in first,and Royal soon followed absently. Her mind was still wrapped around her lonely existence until she saw the luxurious space.
Expecting to see white walls and simple fixtures, instead she was greeted with elegant luxury that rivaled anything she had ever witnessed firsthand, and she had worked in afour-star hotel. In amazement, she wondered around the airy place engulfedby its exquisiteness and imagining what it would be like to live there.
“Do you see my surprise? It’s fully furnished.” He hit the lights and the large living room lit up. Leisurely, he sat down on the plush leather couch and checked his cel
l phone.
“Dmitry, this is gorgeous. I can’t believe it.” She paused for a moment. Walking aimlessly through the loft, she marveled at the endless, intricate beauty of the magnificent baby palace.
From one room to the next she wondered until she ar-rived at the master bedroom. “Oh my God!” she ex-claimed, standing beside the king size canopy bed, draped in fine fabrics under the wooden vaulted ceiling and dimming lights of her future bedroom.
Dmitry finished sending his text messages and met her at the door of the bedroom, where he found her sitting on the side of the bed rubbing the comforter. He leaned against the door but refused to cross into the room.
“My thought was that if woman who runs my shop feels what it’s like to live in luxury, she might better understand what quality of Dmitry’s Closetmust be.” He smiled cleverly. Hiswide pink mouth showed signs of age. “You are very impressed, yes? I can tell. You have…sparkle in your eyes.”
“Very impressed,” she repeated, getting off of the bed.
She stood in the room tapping her foot with her arms crossed and smiling. An overwhelming sensation of accomplishment consumed her. This all could be hers.
“So, you want me to run the shop and live here?” she squeaked, shaking her head in astonishment. Placing her hand over her throat, she smiled and cleared her throat again. Why did she keep choking up around him?!
“No, I want much more from you than that. I want you to transform my vision of Dmitry’s Closetfrom fantasy into reality. I have clothes being flown in from every stretch of the United States, Europe, Asia, Africa and mother Russia. I want this to be international house of style for southern belles of Memphis, and I want you to make them feel as though they cannot get this experience anywhere else in city.”
Royal felt a little tipsy from the wine and vodka that she had earlier, so she sat back on the bed as she listened quietly. Dmitry went on like a professor in a lecture series about his marvelous ideas for the store and what he expected from her. During which time, he barely looked at her or took a breath, rather he looked towards the ceiling and around the room, as though he was envisioning the tasks that he was laying before her come to fruition before his very eyes.
Dmitry's Closet Page 2