Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
MIA
I hate this. With every fiber of my being, I do not want to be in a room alone with this woman. But I lead her down the hallway into the office, trusting that Demitri heard everything and is hiding.
I slowly open the door and glance inside, internally breathing a sigh of relief. I step in and allow the woman to enter before softly pushing the door mostly closed.
She looks at the crack like it’s offending her, but this is how it is.
“Brodie is out there alone on a Saturday night. If shit goes sideways, I need to hear it,” I offer by way of explanation.
She seems to accept it and sits on the couch across from my desk, crossing her legs.
“My name is Katya Sokolova-Pavlov.”
She says it slowly, watching my reaction. I keep my face a mask of indifference. She can’t hurt me. She can’t touch me. Nothing she can say will surprise me.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Mia Alexander.”
“And you own this bar?”
“I do.”
“Are you the only owner?”
“If you’re here to conduct business, are you telling me you didn’t do your homework before stepping foot in here the first time?” I challenge, raising my brow.
Her lips quirk and she tips her chin in acknowledgement that I’m right. And that she did do her homework.
“Just because your name is the only one on the paperwork doesn’t mean you did it alone, you know.”
“I’m aware. How can I help you, Ms. Sokolova-Pavlov?”
“I have a rather delicate proposition for you. One that you would greatly benefit from.”
“I’m listening.”
Fuck, I hope I’m not the only one.
“I have a few…associates who want to get into the bar business, but they don’t know how to run a bar. I was wondering if we could work out a trade? They would work here, under your mentorship and knowledge.”
“Like an internship?”
“Exactly like an internship.”
“And what do you get?”
“I get knowledgeable bartenders and business owners that can then come work a new opportunity for me.”
“Bullshit. What do you really get? No one works for free anymore. Hell, most internships are paid positions these days. Also, you want me to train someone to be a bartender and business owner? They have schools for both of those. And books for the lazy ones who can’t get out of bed in time for class.”
“I don’t need to explain the whys, just the money.”
“I’m waiting.”
The look on her face tells me I need to back up a little, to not be such a hard-ass, but she sounds like a fucking moron. Seriously, she thinks anyone with any business sense would fall for this?
“I would pay you ten thousand a week.”
I stare at her, my face devoid of emotion.
“You want to pay me half a million dollars a year to let people come in here and work for free. What’s the catch?”
“You might need to turn your head from time to time.”
“Why?”
She blinks a few times, like me asking that question is unheard of.
“Did you hear my last name?”
“Yes.”
“And do you know what that last name means?”
“Should I?”
She rolls her eyes at me, like she’s dealing with a child.
“My father is the head of the Russian Bratva. He’s a very powerful man.”
“If he’s so powerful, why isn’t he here asking me this himself?”
“You think he’d lower himself to do the actual work? He’s got other, bigger things to worry about.”
“Is that so?”
Yes, I can play the stupid and innocent game.
“It is. So he sent me. This is at his request. And you don’t fuck with a man at his level.”
“What is it exactly you want my bar for, Katya?”
I’m internally smiling at the look of incredulity on her face that I would have the audacity to use her first name.
“We need your bar ,” she spits the word like it’s dirty, “to move some things.”
“Drugs?”
“Among others.”
“What others?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“The answer is no.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, if you can’t be upfront and totally honest with me, I don’t want to do business with you.”
“I’m trying to give you plausible deniability.”
“Big words, little meaning. You think I believe for one minute that you wouldn’t throw me under the bus at the first sign of trouble?”
“You would just have to trust me.”
“Except I don’t trust you. The answer is no.”
“This isn’t over.”
“Of course not. How about you send your dead father in here to ask me next time?”
Her head snaps up, her eyes narrowing.
“You think just because I own a little bar in a small town that I don’t know anything? I watch the news. Your first mistake was lying to me about him. Your next was trying to manipulate me with money to do your illegal shit. I would appreciate it if you got the hell out of my bar and never come back.”
“You’ll regret this.”
“I’m sure you’ll try to make me, but you aren’t close to the worst person I’ve ever had the displeasure of dealing with.”
She looks like she’s ready to throw a tantrum. I don’t need this. I need her gone so I can have a proper meltdown.
I stand, putting us on an even level, and I look her in the eyes. “You should leave this place, this town, and the people that live here alone. We don’t want your drugs, we don’t want your family, and we don’t want you. Get. Out.”
The woman actually stomps her foot before turning on her red bottomed heels and storming out of the office, flinging the door open for added dramatics.
I’m frozen in the middle of my office. Unable to move, or breathe, or call for help. I feel my legs trying to give out, the desk feeling too far away to hold on to for support. I start to go down, but before I hit the ground, two strong arms are around me, pulling me up and against a chest I now know intimately.
“Shhh, Krasotka . She’s gone. I have you. Everything’s okay now.”
“She, she didn’t want you. She wasn’t here for you. She wanted me to…”
“I know, baby. I know. But she’s gone now. And you were such a fucking boss lady. I’m so proud of you.”
I hear the edge of panic in his voice, the same panic I feel.
“I’m going to lose the bar, aren’t I? She’s going to do something to it. Set it on fire, break in and trash the place. We already know they can get in. I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“No. You didn’t fuck up. You responded to her ridiculous request exactly how you should have.”
He sits down on the couch, pulling me down next to him, holding me to him. The older man, the one the girls referred to as Hot Santa, is the first to the door.
“Everything okay?”
“It will be. She gone?” Demitri asks her.
“Stormed out of here like a madwoman.”
“At least she’s gone.”
“Your girl alright?”
“My girl is fucking epic. She burned the shit out of that woman without even raising her voice. Fucking rockstar.”
“You don’t fuck with my bar,” I finally lift my head enough to say. “Or my family.”
Her declaration hits me like a gut punch.
“Family protects you,” Sarge replies. “No matter what that family looks like to you. Blood ain’t shit if they stink.”
Mia smiles a little. “I’m Mia.” She gives a little wave.
“I remember. I’m Sarge. The idiots out there are Davis, Tiny, and Ranger.”
“I’ve also had the pleasure of meeting Davis. And, let me guess, the oversized giant of a man is Tiny, right?”
He laughs, nodding. “You got it. I’d say blame the Army for bad nicknames, but he came with that one already in place.”
“Thank you for coming tonight. I’m so sorry you had to give up a night for me.”
“Nonsense. Family, remember? My family called me and I’m here for you.”
“Who did you call?” I ask Demitri.
“Joker.”
“Hmm. That tracks. Only he would know people crazy enough to come out in the middle of the night to watch a person they didn’t know.”
Sarge laughs again, making Mia smile.
“I like this one. She’s feisty. Reminds me of my Rosie.”
“Is she okay?” Grace asks, rushing through the door, stopping short when she sees me. She lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought she might have killed you back here. What did she want?”
“She wanted to plant her men and run business out of here,” I tell her.
“Fuck that.”
“That’s pretty much what I told her.”
“Of course you did.” She grins at me.
“Is Brodie good out there?” I ask.
“He’s giving body shots off the bar.” She shrugs.
“I don’t know if you’re fucking with me or not, Gracie. And right now, my brain can’t decide if it cares.”
“Davis is helping behind the bar,” Sarge offers. “He’s got experience. Owns his own up in Boulder Canyon.”
“That’s right. He owns Zach’s.”
“He’s like a local legend up there. Former FBI guy turned bar owner.”
“Of course he is. And I bet all the single ladies in town come in to see the man with the luscious locks.”
“Co-Owner. His wife would be really upset if you left her out of it. And don’t let his momma hear you compliment the hair. She’s been trying to get him to cut it for years.”
“Of course.” I grin at him.
“What’s the plan?” Grace asks. “Want me to start kicking everyone out?”
“No,” I laugh. “No point in it. Nothing’s going to get solved tonight. Tell Brodie I need ten more minutes and he better have his shirt on when I get out there or he’s fired.”
I grin at her, both of us knowing I’d never fire that man.
“You sure you don’t want to close for the night?” Demitri quietly asks.
“I’m sure. I just pissed off the unofficial, self-proclaimed, wannabe head of the Bratva. We’re staying open to celebrate.”
“Okay then. You heard the lady.”
“We’ll see you out there.” Sarge tips his chin before leaving us alone in the office.
When we’re alone, I turn to Demitri. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know. Right this minute, I guess you go out there and run your bar. I’ll touch base with Joker, and when you close, we’ll debrief before we go home. How’s that sound?”
“ Home -home or the apartment?”
“Home. I think if I take you back to the apartment, you’ll lose your mind.” He smirks at me.
“You’re probably right,” I return his grin, “but I think I’ll sit here in your arms for a few more minutes before I go back out there into the real world.”
“This is real, too, Krasotka . Don’t doubt that.”
He tips my chin up, kissing me softly, his lips pressing against mine in a promise.
If only I could stay here for the rest of the night, but he’s right. Reality is all around us and it’s time I deal with it.