Chapter 12 Mattie
MATTIE
The dim fluorescent lights of the staff kitchen hummed overhead, and the air conditioning was turning the place into a meat locker, but Mattie barely noticed any of it. She was too busy laughing at Dimitri's impression of Petrov trying to navigate Moscow at night after one too many vodkas.
"Look at her. So slender and fine," Dimitri said, his accent thickening as he mimicked his mentor's slurred voice. "Petrov hugged a lamppost, wrapping his arms around it and kissing it. I was so embarrassed that I considered leaving him there and disappearing into the night."
"Did you?"
"Of course not. I couldn't leave him like that. I tried to pry his fingers off the lamppost, but the bastard is much stronger than he looks. To convince him to let go, I told him he was hugging a serpent and not a woman."
"A serpent?"
Dimitri shrugged, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "The lamppost was painted green. He let go, and I took him home."
"Whatever works, right?" She laughed.
Mattie couldn't remember when she'd had so much fun with a guy. She could almost forget where she was and pretend that they were on a normal date in a normal city, swapping stories over coffee that was getting cold.
"Yeah," he said. "I wasn't always that lucky. Taking care of Petrov is more work than looking after a toddler."
"What would you know about toddlers?" She stood and walked to the industrial refrigerator.
"Nothing," he admitted. "I'm an only child, so I never got exposed to little ones."
So was she, but she was an orphan, and he probably wasn't.
"Are you hungry? Nadia brought good cheese from the hotel kitchen."
"There's cheese?"
"The guests get the good stuff." She rummaged through the back of the fridge and emerged triumphant with a wedge of brie and some aged cheddar.
"The head chef likes Nadia." She grabbed a box of crackers from the pantry and brought everything back to the table.
"Don't tell anyone. He's not supposed to let her take it, and she's not supposed to eat it.
The head of housekeeping is on her case to lose weight. "
"Her secret is safe with me," Dimitri said.
She spread the soft, creamy brie on several crackers and handed him a few.
"It's good," he said through a mouthful.
The cheddar was sharp and crumbly, and not as good as the brie, but it was still infinitely better than what they usually got in the staff kitchen.
He reached for another cracker, and as their fingers brushed over the box, the contact sent a little jolt through Mattie. She pulled her hand back, feeling foolish over how exciting that small touch had been.
It had been so long since she'd felt anything like this.
"Cheddar is my mother's favorite." He cut a few more slices and put them over crackers. "We used to have at least two kinds in the fridge at all times."
Apparently, cheese was not considered a bourgeois indulgence. Only sugar.
"Are you close to your parents?" she asked.
His shoulders stiffened, and his easy smile faded. "Not really." He reached for his coffee cup even though it was nearly empty.
"But you are their only child…"
"They didn't want me." He grimaced. "I was an accident."
"I'm sure that they wanted you. They probably just weren't good at expressing their feelings."
He looked at her with an indulgent smile.
"They had no problem reminding me of that fact every time they were disappointed in me for some reason.
They are dedicated party members, and climbing the political ladder is all they care about.
" He took a sip of cold coffee. "They weren't around much when I was growing up.
I spent most of my childhood with my grandmother. "
Her eyes widened. "So did I, and I was also an only child. We have so much in common."
He smiled. "Did you enjoy spending time with your grandmother?"
She hadn't had much choice since her parents had died and her grandmother had taken her in. "Gran was fierce. Tiny little woman, barely five feet tall, but she could stare down anyone. She was demanding, but she also demanded a lot of herself."
"She sounds like a formidable woman."
"She was." Mattie's throat tightened. "I miss her."
Dimitri reached across the table and covered her hand with his. The gesture was simple, comforting, and she let herself lean into it for a moment.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.
"Thank you." She cleared her throat and pulled her hand back.
The conversation had taken a sad turn, and she wanted to get back to the easy and light. "So, any girlfriend waiting for you back in Russia? Wife? Kids?"
He smiled. "No wife and no kids. No current girlfriend either, unless you are willing to assume the role."
She knew he was teasing. "It's only our first date, and the jury is still out. Any former girlfriends?"
"Not many." He chuckled. "Shocking, I know. A handsome guy like me should have had more."
He was handsome, but apparently he didn't think he was.
"Anyone serious?"
"One."
"What happened?"
He was quiet for a long moment, turning his empty coffee cup in his hands.
"I thought she was the real deal, but the only real thing about her was her acting ability.
Mila was a lab technician on the last project Petrov and I worked on before we were brought here.
Turned out she was a party informant, and she reported everything I told her to her handlers.
" His jaw tightened. "I was about to propose when I was arrested, charged, and thrown in prison. "
"Oh God." Her hand flew to her chest. "That must have been devastating."
"It was. My life as I knew it had ended. That's why, when I was offered the opportunity to work here, I took it without asking a single question about it. All I knew was that Petrov pulled some strings to get me out, and I was grateful."
"Are you sorry you agreed to come here?"
He shook his head. "Anything is better than a Siberian gulag." He looked around the deserted kitchen and leaned closer to her. "As impossible as it seems to escape from here, I think I have a better chance at it than I had there. I have some freedom of movement here. I had none there."
Hearing him say that he too was looking for a way out thrilled her, but she didn't trust him enough yet to admit that she was looking for the same thing, even though he had given her the perfect opening, and not even when collecting information about possible escape had been the excuse she'd given herself for agreeing to this date.
Instead, she returned to a safer topic.
"Was Mila pretty?"
He considered the question as if trying to remember. "Yes. She was beautiful. Long dark hair, blue eyes, elegant features." He met Mattie's gaze. "But not nearly as beautiful as you."
Heat rushed to Mattie's cheeks, not because she was embarrassed but because she knew his perception of her was wrong. She was damaged, but he didn't know that yet.
"I didn't ask if your girlfriend was beautiful to fish for compliments. I just know how easy it is to fall for a pretty face. I fell for Gabriel, and he was a stranger whom I had just met. I should have known better."
"Who's Gabriel?"
"He was the scumbag who drugged and kidnapped me and sold me to traffickers.
" She picked at the edge of a cracker, crumbling it between her fingers.
"I met him at a club in Sydney while celebrating my friend's birthday.
He asked me to dance, and I said yes, and then he offered to buy me a drink, and I said yes again. I was stupid. I should have said no."
Dimitri's expression darkened. "He slipped something into your drink?"
"I didn't even see him do it. One minute I was talking to him, and then when I tried to get up, the world tilted.
I remember him saying that I needed fresh air, then I blacked out, and the next thing I knew, I was in a room with five other women with my wrists zip-tied.
" She brushed the cracker crumbs off her fingers.
"The others were also zip-tied and terrified, but while I was spared and sent to work in the hotel, the other women ended up in the brothel. "
"Why were you spared?" he asked. "I mean, I'm glad you were, but how?"
There it was. The question she'd been steering toward. The revelation that she needed to get out of the way to find out how Dimitri would respond. She had brought the conversation around to this moment because she needed to know that before she let herself fall any deeper.
Mattie closed her eyes for a moment to gather her courage. "I'm not as perfect and whole as the men who come here expect their sex providers to be. My legs got damaged in a fire when I was fifteen, but Gabriel and those he sold me to didn't realize that."
His eyes dropped involuntarily to her legs, which were hidden under the pants of her uniform.
"What's wrong with your legs?" he asked.
"From mid-thigh to ankles, they are covered in scars." Her voice came out steadier than she felt. "Burns, skin grafts, years of physical therapy. Some of the grafts took. Some didn't. It doesn't look good."
He was quiet for a long moment, and Mattie grew more nervous with every passing second.
"Is that what causes your limp?" he asked.
She nodded. "When I've been on my feet too long, or when I haven't done my stretching exercises, the scar tissue gets tight."
He nodded as if this made perfect sense. "It must be painful."
"It's not as bad as it used to be, but it never goes away completely."
She waited for the pity. The disgust. The careful retreat behind a wall of politeness.
Instead, he said, "Thank you for telling me."
"Do you want to see?" she challenged him for some inexplicable reason.
She didn't want to show him her scars, her twisted flesh. She didn't want to see the pity in his eyes. So, why was she pushing?
"I want to see everything about you, Mattie." His voice was soft. "But only when you are ready. And just so you know, nothing you will show me can make me think less of you. You are beautiful, inside and out."