by Cher Etan
Curtis saw his discomfiture and changed the subject, “I have something for you by the way, if you want to stop by my office tomorrow.”
Tony stared at him in surprise, “Already?”
“Yeah. What can I say? I’m the best,” Curtis replied with a pseudo-self-deprecating shrug and a smirk.
Tony nodded and agreed to come and then turned his attention back to Sophie who was just swaying her way over from the ladies’ room. She had slicked down her hair with some kind of gel, leaving all the bones of her face exposed and her eyes looking three times as big. Her lips were painted with a brown lipstick and the overall effect was just…electric. Tony wondered if she would let him kiss her after their date. He’d just met her yesterday, but he felt like he’d been waiting for her for millennia. His hands itched to place themselves on those luscious hips; the mere thought caused his penis to twitch.
“Down boy,” he whispered to himself, “no need to get excited. All in good time.” He smiled as she came up to him.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her looking her straight in the eye.
He was trying to confuse her with those eyes she thought with resignation. How was she supposed to walk when her knees were so weak?
“Shall we?” he offered, holding out his hand. She grasped it, grateful for something to hold on to.
He took her to a restaurant tucked into a corner of Boston she’d never been known as the April Shower. It looked like a mom and pop joint and everyone seemed to know everyone. A fair amount of Russian was spoken. As the maitr’d looked up and saw them, a thousand watt smile lit up his face. It flickered slightly when he got a good look at Sophie but then was back as if it had never left.
“Anton! Welcome. Your table is ready,” he announced coming up to escort them personally to a table at the back of the restaurant.
Tony pulled out a chair for her, which earned him at least ten brownie points and then sat on the seat next to her, rather than opposite. Sophie wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.
“So, your name is Anton?” she asked to break the ice.
“Yes, but all my friends call me Tony,” he explained.
“Am I your friend?” Sophie asked and then wanted to bite out her tongue. ‘Behave Devereaux’, she told herself.
“I hope so,” he grinned, giving her that blue eyed stare again.
She opened her mouth to ask him to stop staring but a waiter came to place a glass in front of her.
“Black Russian,” Tony said, lifting his glass to her, “privetstvie”
“What does that mean?” Sophie asked curiously.
“It means ‘cheers’,” Tony told her with a slight smile, the intent look in his eye not lessening at all.
“Oh. In that case, privetstvie to you too,” she toasted, clicking her glass to his.
They drank in silence.
“Mmm. That’s nice,” Sophie admitted as the drink warmed her from the inside. It was a rather cold day.
“I’m glad you like it.” Tony said, “Would you like something to eat. My chef will make you anything.”
“Your chef?” Sophie asked in surprise.
“Yes.” Tony replied without elaboration.
“This is your restaurant?”
“Yes,” Tony stated.
“Well…you’re talkative. Okay then, what do you recommend?” she asked, settling back in her seat and easing off her shoes surreptitiously. She really did not like heels.
“I happen to know that he makes a mean pork chop,” Tony said leaning forward confidently
“Boy, I’m from Louisiana so bring it,” Sophie winked leaning forward too, and taking another sip of her drink. She was beginning to feel very relaxed. To her surprise Tony stood up and took off his coat, placing it over his chair.
“Pork chops it is,” he smiled, stretching out his hand and taking hers to lift her from her chair.
“This way Madame,” he gestured placing her hand gently in the crook of his arm.
Sophie looked down at her discarded shoes, and then at the floor. As far as she could tell, it was clean. She shrugged and followed Anton as he led her to the back of the restaurant, toward the kitchens. The staff in there greeted him with familiarity and someone brought her a pair of house slippers to wear. Tony drew out a stool and placed her upon it and then put on an apron and began rolling up his sleeves.
“You’re the chef?” Sophie asked a bit louder than she intended. She suspected that she just might be drunk.
“Yes. Now sit back, drink your vodka and watch me work. I intend to impress you with my mad skills in the kitchen,” he ordered.
Sophie stared at him open-mouthed and then burst out laughing. This date was definitely turning out to be a winner, she thought. Mr. Blue Eyes smiled into her eyes, and she smiled back. ‘Do not jinx this Devereaux or I will kill you,' she thought to herself as she took another sip of her drink.
Chapter 2
Sophie sighed as she lay back in the bubble bath. She lifted a long elegant foot out of the water and wiggled it back and forth. She contemplated it thoughtfully, wondering if it was time to switch her polish from gold to blue…ice blue…like his eyes. ‘Snap. Out. Of. It. Devereaux’
He had taken her home after cooking her a delicious pork chop and baked potato dinner. He’d made her eat her broccoli too, which was amusing, yet sweet. She liked a man who cared about her health and not just the size of her butt. They had talked like old friends as they ate, perched on stools in the kitchen while his staff worked around them. When he’d picked up one of her feet and put it in his lap, she’d known that the comfort level was getting too rich for her blood. It was time to go home before things got too heated. She’d seen the disappointment in his eyes, but she couldn’t worry about that; there was only so much excitement a girl could take. A six foot tall, blonde haired Russian guy with ice blue eyes and razor sharp cheekbones, a tendency toward solemnity and the most intense stare she’d ever seen on human being…was just about enough for any girl. Her thoughts went back to their conversation and she smiled to herself.
“How come you were looking for an accountant today?” she had asked him curiously after her third Black Russian had loosened all her inhibitions.
“My accountant is stealing from me. I think,” he’d confessed blinking at her as he downed his drink.
“Oh. I thought that maybe you had money problems, turns out you do have money problems, but not the money problems I thought you had,” Sophie said all the time thinking, ‘shutupshutupshutupyou’retalkingtoomuch!’
Tony had cracked a smile, “Yeah well…” he said, and shrugged, “My father…would not have hired an auditor to solve the problem. A bat to the shins would have been more his style. Maybe break a few bones.”
“Oh, so Papa Bear was a gangster huh?” she’d asked, just drunk enough to think it funny.
“No. Just a man who lived in corrupt times. He didn’t trust the law to work like it should,” he explained.
“And you do?”
Tony shrugged again and smiled, “I hired an auditor didn’t I?”
“How did you hear of us by the way? We’re not exactly in the yellow pages.”
Tony had actually laughed at this. His laugh was a low rumble of sound and it did all kinds of things to Sophie’s insides.
“What’s so funny?”
His shoulders went up again but all he said was, “More vodka?”
“You trying to get me drunk?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So you’ll kiss me at the end of this night.”
“Just kiss you?” Sophie had said before she could stop the words. She almost bit her tongue after, but it was too late.
“Just kiss. The rest will come later.”
“Oooh, you’re the confident one aintcha?”
“I know what I want.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
She lifted that very foot again and contemplated it.
“I know what I want,” she repeated in as deep an approximation of his voice that she could manage. She wished she had a girlfriend to call at this time so they could obsess over every word, but she’d lost touch with her childhood friends after the move. She reached for her phone and thumbed through her contacts, looking for the closest approximation. Her thumb hesitated over Curtis’ name…he was the one who set them up after all. But the potential for messiness there was too much so she shut off her phone and lay back down in the bath.
There was a knock at the door.
“Sophie, honey. You have been in there a long time. Everything alright?”
“Sure G! I’m great. You?” she called to her grandfather.
He grunted in fake annoyance, “Just get outta there okay before you turn into a frog.”
“You’re no fun Gramps,” she groaned, but stood up and stepped out of the bath. The water was getting cold anyway.
She put on her robe and opened the door, expecting him to be waiting on the other side, but he was all the way down the hall in the kitchen.
“I got cake, I got coffee,” he called, holding out a cup for her. Her feet were headed toward him before she had made up her mind that she could eat.
“So. You had a date,” her grandfather stated without preamble.
“So. Who told you?” Sophie asked in turn.
“Mrs Graham saw him drop you off downstairs. Why didn’t he come up?”
“I didn’t want him to.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was our first date. I figured I’d at least wait for him to ask me out on a second one before I introduce him to my grandfather. Such a waste of the ‘where is this going’ lecture otherwise.”
“Mmmph.” Was her granddad’s succinct reply, “is it true he’s a white dude?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his angle?”
Sophie shrugged, “He said he knows what he wants.”
“And what’s that?”
“Me.”
“Mmmph,” he repeated. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”
“Right? That’s what I said!”
“Be careful with him though. Don’t go giving up the goods too soon.”
“Gramps!”
“What? I’m just keepin’ it real like you kids say.”
Sophie snorted with laughter, took her coffee and cake and trudged off to her room. This conversation was a little too real for her.
“Did you have to kiss him in front of the whole street, though?” her grandfather called after her. She smiled and ignored him, thinking about that kiss.
He had stopped the car in front of her building and then rushed to the other side to open the door, earning him a further ten brownie points. He had walked her up to the front door and then stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets rocking on his heels. She bit back a smile at this display of shyness and then leaned slightly toward him, lips slightly puckered. Almost of their own volition, his hands had left his pockets and reached for her hips. His tongue snaked out his mouth and he’d licked his lips. She wasn’t sure he was even aware of it. She took a step toward him and his hands landed finally on her hips. He had closed his eyes and breathed in. She waited for him to breathe out again, but he seemed to have forgotten how to do that.
“Tony?”
“Yes?” he had whispered
“Are you alright?”
He had nodded slowly, eyes still closed, holding on to her hips ever so gently. She leaned in, placing her chest against his and inexplicably, he gasped. She giggled standing on tiptoe to place her lips on his. He groaned deep in his throat, making her laugh outright. She took a step back out of his arms and touched him on the nose.
“That’s enough for tonight tiger. Goodnight.”
At last, he’d opened his eyes.
“Goodnight Sophie,” he smiled and watched her walk away from him until she disappeared behind the door of the apartment building.
She laughed out loud remembering the look on his face. She liked a man who wasn’t afraid to show how he felt.
“Time for me to sleep.” She murmured to herself as she polished off the cake and went to the bathroom to clean her teeth.
*****
He was waiting for her outside the door of the office when she arrived early the next day. He had something in his hand that she couldn’t see.
“Hallo,” she greeted, stopping beside him and digging out the office keys from her bag.
“Hallo Sophie. How are you?” he asked, turning to face her, “I brought you something.”
“Oh?” she asked as she opened the door.
“Yes,” he said, holding something out to her. She looked down and saw a small flask in his hand, “Coffee, white, with plenty of sugar. Didn’t you say that’s how you like it?”
“Did I?” she asked to stall for time, wondering at his memory. She’d made a joke about how she liked her coffee because of the Black Russian. She hadn’t expected him to be listening. Guys never listened but apparently, he did.
“Yes. I distinctly remember you saying so.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have.”
“It’s a cold day; I just thought you could use it after your commute.”
“Very thoughtful of you.”
“If you’d like, tomorrow I could pick you up from home and bring you to work.”
“Wow. And we haven’t even had a second date yet,” Sophie grimaced, beginning to be uncomfortable.
“Oh, didn’t I ask you already? Can I cook you dinner again tonight?”
“Umm. Tonight? Are you sure?”
“Yes, please.”
Sophie had to smile despite her discomfort with his forthrightness. He looked like such a lost yet lovable puppy.
“Don’t you want to play a little hard to get?” she asked.
“I don’t play games.”
“That’s a first. Okay then, dinner it is. But if you’re going to feed me twice in as many nights you have to meet my grandfather.”
“Wonderful. How about I take you both for dinner?”
Sophie stared at him in disbelief. There had to be a catch with this man.
“You want to take my grandfather and me for dinner?”
“I told you...”
“You don’t play games. Yes, you said.”
“Well…yes. But what I was going to say is…I told you, I know what I want and that’s you.”
“You know you don’t have to take my grandfather for dinner to have me don’t you?”
“Sophie! I’m shocked, and you, such a nice upstanding Christian girl.”
Sophie stared at him. Had he really just made a joke? She turned toward her desk, placing the flask upon it and turning toward him.
“Would you like to share my coffee with me?”
“Sure. I have to wait for Curtis anyway.”
He sat opposite her at her desk and they sipped coffee companionably as the office filled up with people. A few people glanced quizzically in their direction, but the majority was inclined to mind their own business. Curtis grinned with glee when he came in and saw them, but he too headed to his desk without a word. Sophie watched Tony from beneath her lashes, wondering what his end game was. Did he mean to make her fall in love with him? To what end? If it was sex he wanted, she was quite willing; no need to involve her grandfather. If it was more than sex, well…she didn’t see where that could possibly go. Or maybe he needed a green card?
“Are you a citizen?” she asked him.
“Huh? Yes I am. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. Just curious. You’d said about your father living in corrupt times so I figured it was probably not here.”
“What makes you think this government i
sn’t corrupt?”
He was actually smirking, Sophie saw with disbelief. His sense of humor just popped out at the most unexpected times.
“Umm, I hate to interrupt your idyll but can I see you in my office Tony?”Curtis asked, sticking his head in Sophie’s cubicle.
“Sure. I just need to nail down this date I’m trying to get,” he replied with such a guy smirk on his face that Sophie wanted to say she’d wear six inch heels and go jogging before she’d go out with him again, but then he turned to her and the smirk turned into a puppy dog smile.
“Please say yes.” His electric blue eyes were burning into her and setting fires wherever they landed.
“No.”
She saw how his face fell and hastened to add, “The notice is too short for my grandfather. I’d have to ask him first, so day after tomorrow?”
“I have a better suggestion. Do you work weekends?” Tony asked.
Sophie hesitated, wondering what serial killer type shit he was planning for her weekend, “Maybe,” she grinned.
“Well, I have a small B&B down in New Shoreham. How about you and your grandfather come down and stay over for the weekend? On the house.”
“You have a small B&B down in New Shoreham? Damn, what’s next I wonder?” Sophie murmured.
“Tune in next week to find out. But first you have to agree to my weekend getaway,” Tony said smiling.
Sophie gave an internal snort, she hadn’t thought she had been loud enough for him to hear, and for him to come back with a witty rejoinder…every time she thought she had him figured out, he would throw her a curve ball.
“I have to ask my grandfather,” she told him at last.
“Okay.”
“Tony? Any time now,” Curtis interjected at this point.
“Yeah,” Tony jerked in surprise and turned away, following Curtis to his office. Sophie watched them walk away, shaking her head in bemusement. She really did not know what to make of him sometimes.
*****
“So tell me, am I being robbed?” Tony asked Curtis as he stepped in his office.
“You most definitely are being robbed. But I don’t think it’s your accountant doing it. It’s too amateurish for someone who deals professionally with money. I caught it too fast. I need your chain of custody. Who else touches your money?”