Chapter Twenty-Two
In which sometimes, you just need your girlfriends. The louder, the better.
Liria…
The next afternoon…
I'm lying in the giant tub in my bathroom, staring up at the fresco painted directly above it.
I'm pretty sure Alexsey painted it, even though it's not his usual style - well, what his usual style used to be.
I've found three or four other little, hidden painted gems around the loft, one is a sly curl of vines and flowers that flow from the hall to the double doors leading out onto the balcony, blossoming there into huge purple and red blooms.
The one above my tub, though, it's my favorite.
It's a forest scene with a hunting lodge.
There are little flames looking out the windows of the lodge, painted so beautifully that I swear I can see them flicker.
After looking closely, I found the water…
spirits, I guess, droplet shaped bits of magic that move through the tall pines outside the building.
The fresco fascinates me. I take long baths so I can study it.
The movement and shape of the flames and droplets is playful in a way that makes me think they're searching for each other.
I lie in the warm, lavender scented water and wish the little spirits represented Alexsey and me.
The realization is painful. I'm by nature an optimistic person, but two abrupt nights of comfort and then, a carnal moment from my husband don't make up for the weeks of misery and loneliness before them.
At least, that's what my sensible self is saying, shouting over the post-orgasmic part of me that wants nothing to do with her negativity.
My center is still incredibly sore from his fingers, from that glove, which felt kinky as hell in the best way.
The leather made his fingers so much thicker and the smooth, strange texture of it inside me…
My phone buzzes angrily on the vanity and I yelp, sitting up fast and slopping water over the side of the tub. I just grasp the phone with the tips of my fingers. "Hello?"
"Well, there you are." It's Caroline and I cringe with guilt.
I was supposed to pick her up at… I check; twenty minutes ago. "Shit," I crawl out of the tub with all the grace of a harbor seal, seizing a towel. "Ten minutes and I'm out the door-"
"Why the rush?" Caroline sounds supremely relaxed for someone who's been kept waiting at the airport which is the closest thing to purgatory on earth.
"Alexsey's driver was waiting for us when we landed.
There is a bar in the back of the Range Rover and Idiots One and Two are working their way through it. "
"My husband Alexsey sent a car for you?" Goddamnit, that little glow in my chest is back. The hopeful little flame that cannot be trusted.
"Yep," she pops her 'P,' which means she's been sampling the car's liquor cabinet, too. "He's sending us to one of the Morozov boutique hotels, the driver says it's close to the loft."
I'd mentioned Caroline's visit to Alexsey last night, but it never occurred to me that he'd go to this kind of trouble and play host. "I admit that I have the barest understanding of the immensity of the Morozov hospitality empire, what's the name of the hotel? I'll meet you there."
"It's the…" she asks the driver. "It's The Beauford." I burst into laughter, I can't help it.
"Of course it is," I cackle. Caroline's staying at my husband's inspiration for the fake name he'd given me when we met in Boston, and the one I use now for giving him shit. "It's a small world, isn't it?"
"Beauford… oh, shit, you're right!" She's laughing, too. "That sly bastard. A little nostalgic nod to the night when he rearranged your cervix. Weird, but entertaining. Hurry up, I'm starving."
"Excellent. I'll be there soon. Text me your suite number.
" I'm pulling a pair of shorts on with one hand while I hold the phone in the other, struggling with the unwieldy zipper and button and it hits me, how hard every little detail of daily life must have been for Alexsey- must still be.
I remember how he let me help him with his shirt sleeve last night, though I could tell he despised needing assistance.
Looking in the mirror, putting my giant, obstinate mass of hair up in a messy bun, I see hope.
Also, split ends. I need to find a stylist here in Manhattan.
I don't trust hope. Hope can be an asshole, holding out the dream of something better and then snatching it away. My father was the master of that maneuver. Still… that's three days now of kind deeds.
"Alexsey? Are you here? I wanted to say thank you for taking care of my cousins…" I hear the scrape of a dress shoe in the direction of the kitchen, Danyl is the one who steps into view, wiping his hands with a dishcloth.
"Good afternoon, Miss Liria." Danyl's a big, blocky man with a plethora of Bratva and Russian military tattoos.
It took several days of intense negotiation to get him to settle on 'Miss Liria,' versus 'Mrs. Morozova.
' There's a lot of those and family gatherings were getting confusing.
"Mr. Morozov wanted me to tell you that he had some business to take care of, but that he'll be back early and would like to take you and your cousins out to dinner. "
"What was he wearing?"
Danyl frowns. "What was he wearing? Uh, a suit. It was grey."
Good. That means business business and not the bloody kind he's planning when he's wearing jeans or a black tactical jacket and pants. He should come home unscathed. I put my hand in my pocket, crossing my fingers.
***
I can't stand those girls who scream when they see each other with an eardrum-splitting pitch.
But I can't stop myself.
"Caroline!" I scream.
"Liiiiria!" she screeches, locking me into a hug that knocks us over on the sectional.
"It is so good to see you," I'm a little weepy. "I've missed you so much."
Caroline's got brown hair and earthy, mossy green eyes. She laughs loudly but can fly into a rage in seconds - usually on someone else's behalf.
"Yeah, we missed you, too," Mikal says, his mouth full and crumbs dropping out in a little pastry shower.
"She was talking to me. I see you found the baked goods basket, asshole," Caroline scolds him. "Did you take the last chocolate croissant? I was saving that croissant."
"No," he says, swallowing his mouthful. "Bobby did."
"I'm going to club him over the head with the empty pastry basket, I swear to god!" Caroline's up off the sectional and ready to charge at a cringing Bobby and I grab her hand before the sibling violence can begin.
"We've got our tour of New York street food and then we're ending at the Magical Cupcake for dessert," I say. "Let them live. At least for this afternoon."
I know that Danyl tattles to Alexsey on the regular.
Hell, he probably gives him a little report, all typed up and fancy, at the end of each day.
So, I'm not surprised when one Russian bodyguard suddenly multiplies into three bodyguards, all with dark suits identical to Danyl's and similar tattoos, every knuckle decorated with something.
Caroline stops short when we encounter our new security contingent on the way out. "Is this another one of Alexsey's gestures of hospitality?" she blurts. "Can I pick one to keep as a souvenir?"
Danyl chokes back a discreet laugh. "Mr. Morozov would feel more comfortable if you ladies had additional coverage today, since you're planning an excursion in an unsecured situation."
"He thinks we need three bodyguards because we're getting a chili dog from a street cart?" She laughs, shaking her head. "Girl, this is overkill, but I kind of like his protective nature for you. Maybe I was wrong about your cold-hearted, tight-assed spouse."
Wincing as the bodyguards' expressions harden, I say, "She means that in a good way."
Mikal and Bobby are already gone when we step out into the sunshine. "They're probably sniffing their way to the closest strip club," Caroline says. "Ooo! Is that a halal cart? I want their chicken and rice platter."
"This is the best afternoon I can remember in a long time," I say, nudging Caroline.
We'd been walking and talking (and gorging) for hours now.
"Being married to a billionaire and cloistered in his family's Bratva-shaped embrace doesn't leave much room open for the simpler pleasures in life.
" I nibble my way through a Pondicherry dosa.
"This crepe is delicious, you want a bite? "
"In a minute," she says. "That's a little sad. You and I were raised rich, but we never got locked up like this."
"That's because everyone, big and evil or small and greedy, is going after the Morozov Bratva every minute of the day.
" I lower my voice, Danyl doesn't need to hear everything.
"Though I'm not sure anyone would get too broken up if I got knocked off.
" I take another bite, thinking about it.
"Maybe Ava and Violet would, they're so sweet. "
"Do you really think Alexsey hates you that much?" she whispers, glancing over her shoulder at our dark-suited shadows. "I mean, arranged marriages are still a thing in the old-school crime families, he must have expected this."
"He's an acclaimed artist who lost his hand, saving his family from my bastard brother's attack," I murmur, pulling her over to a bench in a quaint corner park.
There's a tiny pond filled with children and ducks, all fighting each other for the best spot.
Someone is taking care of this place; the pots of flowers were recently watered and there's no graffiti on the playground equipment.
"He looks at me every day and sees the daughter of the man who most likely ordered the attack." I've lost my appetite and I wrap up the dosa, throwing it into the trash can.
"I was going to finish that!" Caroline says crossly. "This may all be true, but it seems like he's softening. Why would he give your cousins the VIP treatment if he wasn't?"
"He's been kinder to me ever since that horrible debut party," I admit. "But I can't trust that." I cross one leg over the other, ignoring the insistent throbbing between my thighs. "He's so angry. All the time. I can't blame him for it, and that makes it worse."
"Yeah, it's all feeling like intermittent reinforcement," she says. "Nice to you, mean to you, nice to you again. Though, you have to look at his recent track record. Taking you to Albanian Night at the dive bar. Setting everything up for me and the Idiots. Maybe something's changed for him."
I haven't told her about his comfort after my nightmare, and I'm absolutely not telling her about how he "leather-gloved" me into two blinding orgasms last night.
So really, that's four kind things. Maybe it's time to start a tally sheet of Alexsey's good and bad moments.
Now that he has given me good ones to celebrate.