by Cher Etan
“It’s called Anastasia Aleksandrova”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And what does this co-operation do?”
“It has a P.O box number registered to it, but that’s all I can get.”
“I see. Thank you Curtis.”
“Would you like me to notify the authorities?”
“No. Just plug the leaks, I’ll do the rest.”
“On it.”
Tony hung up and then called his chef.
“Vladimir, I’ll be needing you to prepare a wedding feast sometime in the next two weeks can you do that?”
“Is a cat fond of licking its privates?”
“Wonderful. I will give you exact dates as soon as I have them.”
“Vonderfyul. May I ask whose wedding I am catering?”
“Mine.”
“ Zhelayu vam vsego nailuchshego v zhizni!” Vladimir said.
“Thank you for the good wishes Vladimir. I appreciate it,” Tony said and hung up. He sat back and sighed. Perhaps getting the wedding dress would be overstepping he thought. He leaned forward to address Samuel.
“Change of plans Samuel. We need to go to City Hall.”
“Sir, it’s almost lunch time. Don’t you have a date?”
“Er, yes I do. Thank you for the reminder. You are so clearly not under Sophie’s spell. Let’s go pick her up; she’ll need to sign for the marriage certificate too anyway.”
“Shall I call ahead to have her waiting?” Samuel asked.
“No. I’ll do that. Thank you Samuel.”
*****
Samuel increased the volume of the music in an attempt to drown out the goings on in the back. The partition was not completely soundproof and they were being particularly loud. He thanked God that it wasn’t always like this. And Miss Sophie was Mr. Tony’s wife to be after all.
Sophie pulled back a bit from Tony’s lips, causing him to make incoherent protest.
“Listen,” she said, cocking her head with a huge grin on her face.
“What?” Tony asked, eyes on her lips.
“The song Samuel’s playing,” Sophie said, laughing as Tony’s wandering hands began to snake into places they really shouldn’t.
Tony cocked his head to listen and then laughed too, “Partition; by the Queen Bee. How appropriate. Come here.”
Sophie came but she was giggling so much that Tony couldn’t kiss her properly. Her soft breath on his face made him grin too, and before they could resolve their problems the car came to a stop. Sophie looked out of the window at the tall building before them.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“Getting a marriage license. What else?” Tony replied, “Now get off my lap so I can open the door.”
Sophie slid off without protest, but her heart beat had begun to escalate again. Well, it was already going pretty fast what with Tony’s fingers doing unspeakable things to her insides, but still; this was a different kind of excitement. More akin to fear. Was she doing the right thing here? His father clearly hated her, and she couldn’t just leave her grandfather alone.
Tony leaned in to take her hand and help her out. She hesitated, then took it, alighting from the vehicle with her head down.
“Sophie? What’s wrong?” he asked.
She looked up at him and he saw the fear in her eyes.
“Do you love me Sophie?” he asked softly.
Sophie stared at him, wondering that she’d never asked that question of herself, or him. She had just assumed…it went with the territory. Of course she loved him, how could she not? Did she doubt that he loved her? Looking into those ice blue eyes of his she couldn’t really deny the feeling she saw there. How strange.
“Of course I do,” she said.
“Then we’ll work out the rest. Okay?” he said staring her dead in the eye. She nodded as if hypnotized. God damn those eyes. Who could resist them?
As they left the City Hall forty five minutes later, Tony turned to Sophie, “I almost went to Vera Wang and got you a wedding dress this morning before I remembered it’s not done.”
“Woah, dodged a bullet there didn’t you? Vera Wang does not flatter my figure.”
“I can’t imagine anything that wouldn’t flatter your figure,” Tony replied with an appreciative look at her behind. Sophie rolled her eyes. “I prefer Chanel anyway. If that’s okay with you, of course,” she replied a bit snidely.
“Wonderful, shall we go now?”
“We aren’t going anywhere. I’ll get my own wedding dress thank you.”
“Don’t you want company?”
“If I want a second opinion, I’m sure grandpa or Curtis would be glad to give it.”
“Not to be nosy, but…how come you don’t have a gaggle of gossiping female friends?”
“Wow. What a way to put it,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes again.
“You know what I mean.”
Sophie sighed, “One word. Katrina.”
“Ah. So you haven’t made new friends since you moved here?”
“I haven’t had time to make those kinds of friends. I mean I say hello to my neighbors when I see them in the corridors and Curtis kind of pushed his way into my life but…well. It’s been hard.”
“You were wounded.”
“We are wounded. We just got better at hiding it.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better,” Tony said taking hold of her hand and squeezing hard.
“You are,” Sophie said, smiling at him. She was surprised to realize that it was even true.
*****
Roman Petrov walked into the shop and triggered the bell which made Cara look up. She didn’t smile as she had when his son had walked in that same door a few days earlier, but she stood and opened the partition so he could pass through.
“Where is Mikhail?” he asked without preamble.
“In his workshop,” Cara told him, avoiding his eye. He stepped past her and walked into the back room and down the stairs to the basement workroom in which his brother Mikhail conducted most of his business.
“Mikhail,” Roman said as he reached the bottom step.
A shaggy gray-haired man turned around to look at Mikhail with identical steely gray eyes.
“Roman,” he said, with a movement of his lips that could be taken as a smile, “What can I do for you?”
“My son, who I left in your care, is acting even more like a fool than usual.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Find out what he is up to with this so-called audit.”
“What do you care what he is up to? It is after all, his own business.”
“He is my son. His business is my business.”
“Is that so? Well, it’s not my business so....” Mikhail said, turning his back on Roman.
Roman grabbed his arm and turned him back, “I don’t have time for this. Are you going to do this for me or not Mikhail? You owe me.”
“I do not owe you this,” Mikhail said shaking his head.
“You owe me whatever I say you owe me.”
“I can’t help you with this Roman.”
Roman stared at him, narrowing his eyes, “You can’t help me with this? So what can you help me with?”
“Anton was here recently. He was looking for someone; a boy,” Mikhail informed him.
“A boy. And what did he want with this boy?”
“He didn’t say, but it was an extreme priority for him.”
“Who is this boy?”
“His name is Solomon Devereux.”
“Did you find him?”
*****
The April Shower had been rearranged with garlands of fresh white and yellow flowers everywhere. Considering the season this was quite a feat to pull, off but Elijah had described Sophie’s parents’ wedding to Tony and he wanted to get as close as he could to that. Cleo and Abel’s wedding had been in the bayou in the middle of summer and the only decorations had been
flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. But here, they were on the tail end of winter in Boston and so flowers everywhere was not exactly practical. Still, Tony had gotten as close as possible. White rose petals carpeted the floor of the restaurant and vases of flowers dotted the room. It was a small crowd; a few of Sophie’s workmates including Curtis, Anton’s uncle Mikhail and his aunt Cara, his employees at the restaurant and Samuel. Elijah and Sophie were upstairs in Tony’s office preparing. Sophie was applying the finishing touches to her make up as Elijah sat waiting in the rocking chair. Tony already stood at the front of the room with the Orthodox priest awaiting her descent. Next to him was Vladimir, his chef and teacher smiling from ear to ear. He had liked Sophie ever since she’d walked barefoot into his kitchen slightly drunk from Black Russian. He had especially liked her for Tony, who had been alone for too long. A man needed a companion he could rely on, and Sophie was definitely that – Vladimir could see that.
Sophie could hardly see to put on her makeup she felt so dizzy. Her hands were shaky and so were her knees.
“I never dreamed I’d get married,” she confessed to her grandfather, “Scratch that. I never thought I’d fall in love. And yet here we are.”
“I always knew you would. Your heart is too big not to attract love,” Elijah said.
“Aw, G-Money, you have to say things like that. I’m your only known living relative.”
“Ha! That shows how much you know. I have a cousin twice removed in Louisiana and an aunt in New Jersey.”
“Oh really? An aunt? How old is she, like a thousand years old?”
“Ageism, mmhpm! Actually she’s younger than you.”
Sophie turned to stare incredulously at her grandfather, shook her head and finished applying her makeup, “I expect they’re waiting. We gotta go.”
Elijah stood up and held out his hand smiling and Sophie took it smiling back.
“You ready?” she asked him.
“Are you?” he asked back.
“Is anyone ever?”
Elijah laughed and led her down the stairs to her waiting fiancé.
Epilogue
The reception took a long time to wind down. It was noon of the next day before Vladimir gave up the ghost and passed out on the wedding table. Elijah had retired to their new home when he felt tired. It was a five bedroom continental house set in half an acre of land located on the outskirts of town. Elijah had tried to propose that he move into the cottage at the back of the house, but was shouted down by both Tony and Sophie. It had been a full day of arguing, but Sophie shut it all down by stating that she would not be able to sleep if he was so far away from her. It was emotional blackmail, but what to do? Tony and Sophie were off to New York, honeymooning at another of Tony’s establishments. They would then take a tour of the other two in Washington and Los Angeles. Tony was already talking about looking at properties in New Orleans for his sixth outlet and Elijah knew it was because it was their home. He appreciated the thought, but New Orleans had too many sad memories for him and Sophie too. He didn’t think they’d want to go back there any time soon. Not with the painful spectre of poor lost Solomon hanging over their heads. Besides, Tony had enough on his plate dealing with his father’s deception.
*****
Roman Petrov studied the file he had extracted from Mikhail’s office. Although Mikhail had said he had found nothing on the boy, he had known his twin brother a long time. Since birth in fact – so he knew when he was lying. He had asked for a cup of coffee and when Mikhail had gone to get it, he had extruded this file on Solomon Devereux from his desk. Apparently there was a possibility that the boy was a John Doe incarcerated in a facility for the criminally insane; mistakenly put there and forgotten in the confusion that followed Katrina. The boy was the brother of his son’s new bride. A good ace to have, should his son choose to pursue an undesirable course.
He approached the visitors’ lounge of the facility where a handsome young black man sat waiting, doodling on a piece of paper.
“Solomon Devereux?” he asked, standing over him.
“Is that my name?” the boy asked.
“Yes,” Roman replied.
“And who are you?” the boy questioned, looking curiously up at him.
“I’m the man who is going to get you out of here,” Roman said, stretching his lips in the parody of a smile.
2. My Russian Lover
Chapter 1
Sophie dangled her legs in the water, enjoying the warmth suffusing her legs. They were in LA on the third leg of their honeymoon and she was enjoying the fact that it was March and she was warm. The weather in Boston, where she lived, had been extra cold when they’d left, and New York hadn’t been much warmer. But LA was sunny and the sheer pleasure of wallowing in warm water was the height of luxury to Sophie right now. She looked up to see Tony coming towards her, taking pleasure in watching him walk. His long loping gait was eating up the beach and she could see the smile on his face even from this distance. Tony had not been a man who smiled a lot when they’d met in her office, where he’d come seeking an accountant; or so he said. But these days his smile was almost a permanent feature. It lit up his ice blue eyes and softened the harshness of his face.
“Hey,” he said as he reached her.
“Hey yourself,” Sophie replied smiling back at him.
“It’s been over two hours since we kissed. What happened, don’t you love me anymore?” Tony asked leaning down to plant one on her smiling mouth.
“Oh, I married you for your money you fool,” Sophie murmured against his lips as she reached up to pull him closer. He opened his mouth to claim hers. She felt herself simultaneously melting and heating up and wondered at it. Every single time he touched her, without fail, her body reacted. It was too good to last she imagined. Who felt like this forever? They had barely known each other a month before getting married but it sometimes felt like she had known him forever. He had told her that he caught sight of her behind as she slipped on the side walk one day and had followed her to her office. As luck would have it, he also needed an accountant because he suspected that someone was stealing from him. Her friend and colleague, Curtis Jackson, had set them up at Tony’s request. She’d agreed to go because her life was empty and filled with grief for her lost brother and home. They had both disappeared with Hurricane Katrina and it had just been herself, and her grandfather Elijah left. They had moved to Boston to start over, and now they were three. Tony also had some family drama, he was alienated from his father, Roman Petrov, and having immigrated from Russia ten years before, he had no family in America apart from his Uncle Mikhail and Aunt Cara. It had created a bond between Tony and Sophie, since they had both suffered tragic loss. A month after their first date, they were married in a small ceremony which took place at Tony’s restaurant, the April Shower. Although Tony’s dad was in town, he did not attend as he was currently suspected of being behind the theft at Tony’s establishments. He was also not very enamored of the bride being of African-American descent and that had rather displeased the groom.
“I’m a fool for love,” Tony half-sung with a huge grin on his face as he settled down next to her on the beach towel. He leaned forward, nuzzling her neck. The private beach had no other inhabitants so Sophie let him have his way with her neck.
“Where to from here?” she asked as he nibbled his way down to her breast.
“Well we’ve visited every single one of my five establishments, the staff have met you, they know you’re the new boss; is there anywhere you’d like to go maybe? New Orleans?” Tony murmured against her skin.
“New Orleans? Why would I want to go there?” Sophie replied pulling back to look into his eyes in puzzlement.
Tony shrugged avoiding her eyes. “Its home isn’t it? Don’t you want to visit, see how it’s doing? Brad Pitt is building new housing…”
“That’s nice for him I’m sure but I liked my old house and it’s not there anymore. Neither is my brother, or my grandmother,” Soph
ie replied a bit curtly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, I’m sorry. Perhaps I’m oversensitive about my former home town. I just don’t like to think about Solomon and what could have possibly happen to him.”
Tony was watching her with empathy in his eyes. He had lost a brother too, and he knew the hurt and pain behind her simple words. It was worse for her too, because at least he knew where his brother was buried. His uncle, Mikhail, who had raised him after his father sent him to America, was an expert at ‘losing’ people; making them disappear into the system so that immigration couldn’t catch them. Tony had asked him if he could find someone instead, who had been lost in the system – Solomon Devereux. His uncle had informed him at the wedding that he had a lead, in a psychiatric facility in New Orleans; there was a John Doe who fit the description of Solomon Devereux. But the only way to know for sure was if Sophie or her grandfather went there and identified him. He was in the facility because he had no memory of who he was, but he was known to be fond of drawing; graffiti specifically. Sophie had told Tony that Solomon was a graffiti artist so he was hoping for a match. But he didn’t want to get Sophie’s hopes up in case it proved to be a dead end. Still, he needed to come up with a pretext as to why they needed to go to New Orleans.
“You know, I was thinking of opening my sixth restaurant in New Orleans,” he ventured.
“Oh?” was her extremely short, repressive reply.
“And I thought…what with Boston being so cold at this time of year, and New Orleans not being cold…that we could like, maybe, check it out.”
“You know I still have a job right?” was Sophie’s rejoinder.
“About that…how about you work for me? I’ve recently found myself with a vacancy in the accounting department. What with the old one colluding with my father to skim money off of me and all…”
“That’s a really great offer Tony, I mean apart from the whole ‘husbands and wives shouldn’t work together thing’ and the fact that I haven’t done my qualifying exams…”