by Tia Siren
As they walked through the garden towards the house, Ella smelt the scent of roses. The borders were filled with flowers. She recognized some like sweet pea and Iris, but there were many varieties she had never seen before. She thought Mike would knock on the front door, but he didn't. He took a path to the left of the house and led her around to the rear of the property.
The rear of the house had an even more magnificent garden than the front. There was a terrace adorned with statues of Greek Gods and lawns, which stretched for as far as Ella could see. On the terrace she saw many expensively dressed people, most of them holding champagne glasses. Ella suddenly felt very conspicuous in her cheap borrowed dress. The women at the party were all wearing magnificent evening gowns and expensive jewelry. The mansion, the people, the surroundings, all added to make her feel poor and insignificant.
Mike smiled at her; she was sure he could sense what she was feeling, and she was grateful to him for making an effort to put her at ease. She followed him to the crowd of people, where he introduced her to a group of women who looked as if they'd never done a hard day’s work in their lives. Ella spoke politely and explained that she was new to the company and that she'd just graduated. When they asked where she lived, she lied.
After Ella had drunk her first glass of champagne, she began to feel a little less inhibited. She told herself that she was as good as any of these people and that she was on her way up the ladder, and would one day be rich like them.
''Ella,'' Mike called as he beckoned her to him. ''I want you to meet Mr. Beljakov. This is Ella Freeman, she's my new assistant,'' he said to the man standing next to him.
''Please to meet you, Mr. Beljakov,'' Ella said as she shook his hand.
''Pavel, call me Pavel, please. Mike gets so formal. It must be his English roots,'' he said. Ella tried to sum Pavel up. It wasn't difficult. She only needed three words: rich and gorgeous. ''How are you settling in at work?'' he asked.
Ella was awestruck. A tall man, several inches taller than she, he had blue eyes and blonde hair. He was remarkably fresh faced, which made her place him at around thirty, certainly no older. When he spoke, he spoke perfect English, but he had a Russian accent that Ella found gave him a boyish charm.
''Fine thank you. I am very pleased I got the job. It isn't easy to find work these days,'' she replied.
''I'm very happy to have you working for me. I need talented people. When Steffi told me about you, I was very impressed and eager to meet you. I'm very glad you came today.''
''I'm pleased I came too, and it's lovely to meet you,'' Ella said.
Ella prided herself on being a good judge of character, and she saw a man who, despite his wealth, was a little insecure. The way he spoke to her was gentle and soft, and yet she knew from the little she had seen of his company so far, that he could be a ruthless negotiator. When she and Mike had talked about him, Mike had described him as kind and good-natured, but he'd warned her that when his back was against the wall, his nature often changed into that of a cold assassin.
''Please excuse me, I need to have a word with someone over there. Business never ends,'' Pavel said smiling at her. As he turned, his eyes lingered and scanned her body. ''We're going to have lunch shortly. It's a buffet, quite informal; perhaps you would do me the honor of keeping me company as we eat,'' he asked.
Ella, lost for words, just nodded.
When the buffet was ready, Ella stood in line waiting to take a plate.
''No, you don't have to stand in line,'' Pavel said as she walked up to her.
''I have ten employees, and they always go first. Those people standing in line are real estate agents and bankers and their partners. They're here for a free meal so that I can get a reduced rate from them when I use their services. Come with me.''
Ella followed him to the front and, was charmed when he handed her a plate. Ella looked down the table, and there was almost every type of food she could think if. Meats, fish, vegetable, fruits and delicious looking pastries. ''It all looks so delicious, I haven't a clue where to start,'' she said.
''Start wherever you like. There is just one rule,'' Pavel said pulling a cheeky face. ''You have to eat at least one spoonful of caviar. I had it flown in, from Russia specially for today. It's from my hometown.''
''You had a plane fly it here?''
''Yes, my plane went and fetched it.''
''But isn't that terribly expensive,'' Ella asked slightly concerned at the decadence he was displaying.
“I suppose it's expensive, but the plane doesn't fly empty on the way over there. It's crammed full of toys for an orphanage I look after.''
Ella felt guilty for even questioning his motives. ''Well, in that case, I'll have two spoonfuls.''
When they had both filled their plates, Pavel showed her to a table. It was big enough for four to sit at, but nobody came and sat with them. Ella assumed people would only do that if they were invited and Pavel didn't seem to want any more company.
''How long have you lived in the US?'' Ella asked.
''Since I was twenty-five, so for about five years.''
''I hope you don't mind me prying but why did you come here?''
''I am from a town called Sochi, on the Black Sea. I was an orphan; it seems nobody wanted me,'' he said with a grin. Ella didn't find his quip funny.
''When I was eighteen, I was drafted into the Red Army, like all kids my age. I spent twenty-four months under an officer called Abram Volkov. He was also from Sochi. We left the army at more or less the same time, and when he got into real estate and other business activities, he gave me work doing jobs for him. When he moved his business empire to New York, he brought me here with him.''
''What kind of jobs?'' Ella asked.
Pavel looked into her eyes. Where had this beauty suddenly appeared from? he thought. ''Jobs like collecting money from people, and threatening to break their legs if they didn't pay,'' Pavel said openly.
''Mafia stuff?'' Ella asked without actually wanting to know the answer.
''Abram is a very dangerous man, and he has connections. In Sochi, every second person walks with a limp because he thinks they've crossed him. I was young and strong, and Abram used me to collect rents. Sure, I had to get my hands dirty sometimes, but Ella, it was Russia.'' Ella nodded and somehow she seemed to understand.
''So you came to the US. And do you like it here?''
''I like it very much. It's a place where you can make vast sums of money. I seem to have done quite well so far.'' Ella was about to tell him, that money wasn't everything, but she knew it would sound hypocritical. After all, she was working for him, and she needed him to do well.
''It's very rude of me, I know, but how does someone get so rich. How can you be born an orphan, and end up this rich,'' Ella gestured to the mansion.
Pavel wiped his fingers on a crisp white serviette and thought for a while. ''It's difficult to explain. One day I saw something I shouldn't have and certain people are grateful for my silence. '' Ella was fascinated. He had only known her for a few minutes, yet he was telling her things, that most other people would keep secret. ''All I did was work for Abram for some years, save the money he paid me, and invest in a piece of real estate. That was a success , and so I kept on doing it.'' He paused as he cut a piece of chicken down to bite size. '' Dealing just seemed to come naturally to me. When I thought I had enough cash, I told Abram I wanted to start up on my own, and that's what I've been doing for the last two years.''
''What did he say to you?'' Ella wanted to know.
Pavel pushed a piece of tomato into his mouth and thought about how to answer such a tricky question. ''He wasn't happy at all. Will you go on a date with me?'' he said out of the blue.
Ella almost spat her food out in surprise. ''Why do you want to date me?'' she asked.
''Because you are beautiful and you intrigue me.''
''You are a very rich man. You have more money that a thousand people will ever see in their lives. I am a bla
ck woman from a poor background, and I live in a shit hole. You've gotta be joking.''
Pavel laughed out loud, and a number of people looked at them. ''Er... no actually, I wasn't joking.''
''You could have any woman walking the planet and you want me? Pavel, I've known you for half an hour, and you've already asked me on a date. How do I know you don't do this to every woman you meet? How do I know you're not just messing with me?''
Pavel looked at her dress and wondered where she had bought it. Her breasts looked gorgeous, and he wanted to unpack them on the spot. ''You can only find out if I'm messing with you, by saying yes. If you say no, you will never find out. The moment I saw you, I couldn't take my eyes off you. The choice is yours.''
Ella's head was spinning. Was she in a dream of some kind? Only a few days ago, she was an unemployed graduate, and now she was being chased by a Russian billionaire.
*****
''Ah, my dear Pavel. Sit down, I just have a bit of business to attend to, and I'll be right with you,'' Abram said as he held his hand over the phone.
His appearance had changed significantly in the years since Pavel had first met him, Pavel thought. He had always been a big guy, but now at the age of fifty-two, he was on the fat side of muscular. His hair had gone gray, and it had started to thin on top. He was now the kind of man, who went around with beads of sweat rolling from his forehead, a sure sign he was out of condition. Abram had a round face, and he was quite obviously Russian. Pavel, on the other hand, had much finer Slavic features and could be thought to come from a number of countries.
''What do you mean you don't want to sell the apartment anymore? You told me when we last met that it was a formality, and the contract was on it's way,'' Abram barked down the phone. Pavel heard a man on the other end say something which made Abram explode into one of his rages.
''You're what? Your daughters have decided they want to keep it? Well, tell you fucking daughters that they can't keep it. You told me I could buy it, so as far as I'm concerned, the deal's done. Now instruct your lawyers to make out the contract of sale or I'll come round with some of my guys, and we'll all rape your wife. Do you understand?'' Abram slammed the phone down and let out a roar of frustration. ''Americans, they can never make up their damn minds.''
''You wanted to see me, Abram?'' Pavel asked calmly.
''Yes. I've got a job for you.''
Pavel sighed. He thought Abram had understood. He plainly hadn't. ''I'm trying to get going on my own Abram. I know I owe you a lot. In fact everything, but you need to let me go now. No more jobs. Get someone else.''
Pavel looked around the office as he waited for a reply. It was a typical Manhattan office, floor to ceiling windows, air conditioning and a view to die for. One thing that set it apart from most other executive offices, was the Russian flag hanging from the wall behind Abram's desk, and a set of swords mounted in racks on the wall behind the meeting area. Pavel remembered one occasion when Abram had held one of the swords to a vendors throat because he wouldn't agree to Abrams offer.
''I know you have your own company now, but I have never found anyone as persuasive as you. Listen, an asshole promised me first refusal on a residential block, and now he's rejected my offer. I need you to go and persuade him it's not a wise choice.''
''And how exactly do you want me to do that?'' Pavel asked.
''Now that's the dumbest question you have ever asked. Do it like you always did. Hang him from a high building, threaten to kill his kids or his wife, cut off a finger or kidnap his mother. I don't care.''
''I've changed. I'm running a legal outfit. I'm done with all that violence. I don't like it.''
''Listen to yourself. You sound so smug and righteous. How is your business doing? From what I've seen, you've missed out on a lot of purchases. Why? Because you've gone soft.'' Abram came from behind his desk and sat on the front edge. ''If you don't persuade people to take your offer and only yours, how do you expect to make money? The only way is to frighten the crap out of them until they give in, and take your offer, under the current market value.''
''Like I explained, Abram, I've had enough of those tactics. I'll take my chance in a fair market,'' Pavel said.
''Just one more time Pavel, for old time’s sake. I need your help,'' Abram pulled a hangdog face in the hope it would play on Pavel's conscience.
''Okay, but absolutely the last one.''
Abram pulled his widest smile and slapped Pavel on the back. ''Now, we have to discuss the question of my daughter Ilona. What's the delay? She wants to marry you, I want you to marry her and Goddammit, even her mother wants you to marry her. So why are you dragging your heels?''
Pavel didn't have the stomach to tell him that he wasn't in love with his daughter or indeed that he thought his daughter uncouth. When it came to Abram's daughter, he knew he had to tread very carefully. Abram had once whacked a guy to within an inch his life for refusing his daughters advances. Although these days Pavel could easily beat Abram if it came to it, Abram knew some very unsavory characters that Pavel did not wish to meet. ''Let me have a think about it. It's important to get the timing right,'' he said, instantly scolding himself for being too soft again.
''Well get a move on, all this procrastination is giving me indigestion. You don't have to go home every evening and listen to two women bellyaching about a wedding.''
*****
''Wow, look at you. Are you going out with him again?'' Ella's mother asked as Ella came from her bedroom. ''I make that three times this week.''
''Yes, Mom, I'm going out with him again, and yes it's the third time this week.''
''Who is he? So far you haven't told me a thing about him.''
''All in good time. We're just getting to know each other when the time is right; I'll tell you and Dad about him.''
''Well, you go and have a good time. I'm going to watch that new series on TV and wait for your father. I do so worry about him. He's working so hard, and he's not in the flush of youth anymore.''
''Mom,'' Ella said, not knowing why she was lowering her voice, but it seemed appropriate. ''You and Dad are very proud people, and I know you don't like accepting charity, but what I am about to do isn't charity. You have earned it by your devotion to me for all those years.''
''What are you talking about? Charity?''
Ella handed her mother an envelope and watched as her mothers arthritic hands opened it. ''No, this is too much. You can't do this. I know we spoke about you paying something towards the household running costs once you had a job, but this is way too much,'' she said, looking down at two thousand dollars.
''You can complain all you want, but from now on, you're getting two thousand a month from me. I'll see you later; I don't want to keep him waiting.''
Ella took the elevator down to the street. However many times the landlord cleaned it, it always smelled of urine, she thought. Ella waited on the corner at the end of her street. It was the only green spot in the area, and the one place she felt comfortable letting Pavel pick her up from. There were a few kids playing soccer a little further up, and when the Bugatti Veyron passed them, they stopped and stared. Ella heard one kid shouting that the car costs one million, seven hundred thousand dollars.
''Hi,'' Pavel beamed as he stopped. ''I'm Pavel, and you look like a nice lady, do you want to eat ice cream with me?''
''No sir, my mother told me never to get into a car with a stranger,'' Ella laughed. ''Where are you taking me tonight?'' she asked, once she was belted into the three hundred kilometer an hour machine.
''Nowhere before I tell you how gorgeous you look,'' Pavel said as he looked at her. Ella had spent a lot of her first paycheck on clothes. That evening she was wearing her favorite article, a classic white evening dress with spaghetti straps and a soft shawl. She'd gone for white heels and was now almost as tall as Pavel. The only article of her outfit she wasn't happy with was her necklace. She'd almost run out of money by the time she'd given any consideration to jewelry
, so she'd bought a cheap necklace that she thought looked expensive. Now she regretted having done so.
''Thank you, and you look as handsome as ever,'' Ella replied.
''I hope you don't mind, but I would like to spend the evening with you at home. I get a bit fed up of expensive restaurants, most of the are pretentious rip-off establishments. I thought we could have a bottle of wine and talk. It's a lovely evening; we can sit on the terrace.''
''That will be lovely. You know, that's exactly what I would like to do. Although perhaps I'm a little overdressed for hanging around in your garden.''
''Don't worry. I'm sure we can find a shirt and a pair of jeans for you.''
The drive to Pavel's house took an hour, and as they went along the highway, Ella noticed how many people gaped at the car. When they pulled into the driveway at Windward Hall, Ella looked at the mansion and had to pinch herself. Was she really dating this man, she asked herself?
They went in through the front door. It was the first time Ella had been into the house. At the party, she'd stayed outside all the time, and on their previous dates, Pavel had taken her to restaurants. The entrance hall was large and had a black and white tiled floor. She liked the large gilded mirror and matching candle sticks which adorned the fire place. When they walked through to the sitting room, Ella gasped. Never had she seen such luxury. The room reached the whole height of the building, and she could see the sky through a dome in the roof. The staircase seemed to be made of glass and ran up to an open landing that circled the room. On the floor, Ella noticed an oriental rug in front of two huge white sofas.
''Take a seat, I'll get us a drink,'' he said as he pointed to a sofa. Ella sat down and nearly disappeared into the softness of the cushions. After just a couple of minutes, he returned with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
''Oh, that tastes nice. I don't think I've ever tasted wine that good,'' Ella said.
''It's from Russia. It's a surprising country sometimes. Who would think we can produce wine of this quality. Most people think it's a frozen wasteland. Come with me,'' he said getting up. Ella followed him, as he walked down a corridor. At the end there was a double door, Pavel held it open for her, and she walked inside. It was a magnificent swimming pool. The whole room was tiled, and the pool was full size, twenty-five meters long. To the side were loungers between palm trees in huge pots that gave the place a Mediterranean feel.