Chapter Twenty Maksim
With a frustrated grunt, I focused on the words on the page. It was one of the many activities Sarah had me focusing on. For the last three days, she’d been relentless with my treatment. I worked out in the gym everyday, but nothing had been kicking my ass quite like all the fluency work.
“Read the sentence aloud,” Sarah instructed.
“I’m g-going t-to the–”
She held up her hand. “Stop, slow, and reset.”
Exhaling a ragged breath, I said, “I’m going to the p-pool.”
Sarah opened her mouth, and I growled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Start over.”
“Practice makes perfect,” she said with an annoying smile.”
After glancing at my phone, I shook my head. “We need…to stop.”
Her brows furrowed. “Why?”
“You need to be at your brother’s for dinner at six, right?”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Do you need to freshen up?”
Pursing her lips at me, Sarah countered, “I don’t know, Maksim. Do you think I need to?”
I frowned. “No. Why?”
“It sounded like you did.”
Shrugging, I replied, “I just t-thought you might like to freshen up.”
With a shake of her head, Sarah replied, “Sammy is used to me coming straight from work most nights, so he sees me looking frazzled.”
“D-Did I frazzle you today?”
A laugh burst from Sarah’s lips. No matter how many times I heard it, it never got old. “While we worked hard, I wouldn't say I’m frazzled.
“I hope not. I mean, if you need more down time, we can totally do that.”
Sarah smiled. “Maksim, I’ve been working at least eight-hour days since I was sixteen. I promise you, I can handle it.”
Nodding, I rose out of my chair. “Okay, let’s go.”
She froze in the middle of straightening up the table. “Excuse me?”
“I’m escorting you, remember?”
“I assumed you meant a bodyguard or one of your brothers.”
I shook my head. “I’m g-going with you.” When she still hesitated, I asked, “Do you have a p-problem with that?”
“Of course not. I just expected for you to have more important things to do than sit outside my brother’s house for a couple of hours.”
“I’ll b-be fine.”
Almost reluctantly, she replied, “Then let’s go.”
As we started to go to the garage, I couldn’t understand why Sarah would object to me accompanying her. Our relationship continued to evolve as we worked together. She was open and outgoing with me and didn’t seem to hold any grudges.
After Oleg opened the door for her, Sarah hopped inside, and I followed behind her. When Oleg got into the driver’s seat, I said, “I just texted you the address."
“Yes, sir.”
“Actually, we need to stop at 1334 Hyacinth Place,” Sarah corrected.
What the hell? That wasn’t the address she had given me earlier. Eyeing her suspiciously, I asked, “Why did you g-give me a d-different address?”
“Because the bakery that has Sammy’s favorite cupcakes is at Hyacinth Place, and I always bring him cupcakes.”
“Oh, I see.” Nodding at Oleg, I said, “P-Please t-take us to that address first.”
“Did you just accuse me of lying to you?” Sarah demanded.
I loosened my tie. “No.”
“It sure sounded like it to me.”
“I was merely inquiring why the address changed.” When she opened her mouth to argue with me, I started speaking Russian to Oleg.
With a huff, Sarah reached into her bag and took out her iPad. I’m pretty sure she mouthed asshole before she focused on her screen.
We were almost to Philly when her phone rang. After glancing at the ID, she groaned. Cutting my eyes over, I saw the name Miles flashing on the screen.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
With a shrug, she replied, “Just because.”
Her response sent the jealousy swirling within me into a raging stream. As I fiddled with my cuff links, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “B-Because it's a man?”
“Why would that matter?”
Using the new strategies I’d been taught, I replied, “Because you don’t want to t-talk to him in front of me.”
Laughing, Sarah replied, “Trust me. There’s never a time at work or out that I want to talk to Miles.”
And then it hit me. Miles was the name of the doctor in her practice that Dedushka had suggested. And the one who was all territorial around her car. “Why don’t you like t-talking to him?”
An uncomfortable look came over her face before Sarah shifted in her seat. “Because he’s a creep.”
“How?”
“He’s always leering at me and trying to stand close to me.”
“Hand me your phone.”
“Excuse me?”
I waved two of my fingers at her. “Your phone.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Have a little talk with him.”
Sarah’s eyes bulged in horror. “No, Maksim.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s my work colleague.”
“Who has been sexually harassing you.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not like that.”
“You just said he was a creep.”
Swallowing hard, Sarah countered, “That’s true, but it’s not sexual harassment."
“Not yet. But he’s on the path.”
“Maksim–”
“For fuck’s sake the man stood leering at your car for a ridiculous amount of time the other day. Like, he wanted t-to p-piss on it to mark his territory.”
“How do you know that?” Sarah questioned with furrowed brows.
Fuck. If I admitted that I’d seen him do it while I was outside her office, I would look just as creepy as Miles. “The b-bodyguard reported it while Aleks was inside talking to you.”
“Oh.”
At the fear in her eyes, I said, “Let me call him.”
Nibbling her lip, Sarah said, “Do you promise not to go all macho Bratva man on him?”
Chuckling, I replied, “Excuse me?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Sadly, I don’t.”
“I mean, don’t threaten to have him sleep with the fishes.”
“Did you really just make a Godfather reference?”
“You are the mafia,” she huffed.
“I’m Bratva. There’s a difference.”
“Like what?” Sarah challenged.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Before she could protest any further, I grabbed her phone. To my surprise, she didn’t try to wrestle it away from me. After redialing the number, I put it on speakerphone.
Miles answered on the second ring. “Well, hello, stranger. I’ve been missing you at the office.”
“You have?” I questioned.
Silence reverberated on the line. “Sarah?”
“No.”
“Who the fuck is this?” Miles snarled.
There was so much I wanted to say to him at that moment, but miraculously, I refrained.
It wasn’t just because Sarah had asked me not to go all Bratva badass on him.
It was more about the fact I feared I wouldn’t get the words out right.
Somehow I didn’t feel I would be as intimidating if I was stuttering.
After relaxing my jaw and focusing, I finally replied, “It doesn’t matter who I am. Stop calling Sarah’s phone.”
He sucked in a breath. “You’re the Wednesday guy.”
As I furrowed my brows in confusion, Sarah grabbed my arm. When I glanced at her, she nodded emphatically. “Yeah, I am,” I replied.
“Okay. Fine.”
Concentrating I said, “This stays…between us.”
“Whatever,” he replied before hanging up.
“Holy shit,” Sarah replied.
“You owe me some thanks.”
“I do?”
Nodding, I replied, “I made it t-through the call without t-threatening to cut his b-balls off.”
A laugh burst from her lips. “You want me to thank you for that?”
“I d-did what you asked.”
“That is true, and I’m grateful.” With a smile, she said, “Both for you not threatening him and for you hopefully deterring him.”
“If he d-dares to look at you any other way than p-professionally, I’ll have more t-than a talk with him.”
Covering her face with her hands, Sarah groaned. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you.”
I pulled her hands away. “Listen to me. I have t-three sisters. I would’ve done the same t-thing if they had some creep harassing them. No man should ever have the right t-to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Sarah’s brows creased as she stared at me. “You know, you really are decent.”
“Considering how surprised you sound, I’m not sure t-that’s a compliment.”
“Don’t make me bring up the whole kidnapping thing again,” she teasingly said.
Tilting my head, I replied, “Not all g-good men are good, and not all b-bad men are all bad.”
Her expression sobered. “You’re right.”
Sensing we needed a subject change, I asked, “What kind of cupcakes are we g-getting?”
The darkness faded from Sarah’s face. “Sammy loves red velvet cupcakes, but he is very particular. The only kind he will eat outside of the ones my mom bakes are found at the O’Brien and Sons Bakery.”
At the mention of the last name, it suddenly hit me.
“Shit,” Oleg muttered from the front seat.
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
Sarah glanced between the two of us. “What’s wrong?”
“When you mentioned Hyacinth place, I d-didn't realize it was in Irish territory.”
With a gasp, Sarah asked, “Are there actually territories in the city?”
“You are so naive.”
Her dark eyes narrowed. “Excuse me for not knowing the ins and outs of the underworld.”
As I fought to keep from smiling, I wondered how I ever looked at Sarah’s picture and thought she was stuffy or uptight. She is a fiery little hellcat through and through.
Sarah must’ve noticed the amusement in my eyes because she huffed. “This isn’t funny, Maksim.”
“I know t-that.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to risk my life in enemy territory getting Sammy’s cupcakes all because you have to be a Bratva pahkan!”
“Easy now. I would never p-put you in danger.”
“Then how are we going to get to the bakery?”
“I’ll ask p-permission.”
Sarah’s brows popped wide. “You have to ask permission?”
Nodding, I replied, “At the moment, we aren’t at war with the G-Gallaghers, so it shouldn’t b-be a problem.”
As I scrolled through my contacts, I searched for Desmond’s number. He’d been the Irish clan leader of Philly since I was a kid. He was one of the few underworld leaders my father hadn’t managed to piss off over the years.
When I started dialing it, Sarah shook her head. “Why do I feel like I’m back in high school and trying to get my parents’ permission to do something?”
I chuckled. “T-There’s a lot of Bratva life t-that’s like high school I suppose.”
Desmond’s gruff hello echoed through the room. “Hello, it’s Maksim Korolov.”