Chapter Eleven - Emily
I have to keep looking at it because I think if I do, it’s going to go away and become something else, but the pink line is intimidating enough, and the color isn’t changing no matter how long I gaze at it. My hands drop to the sink, the bathroom spinning and turning upside down, my stomach flips right on its head with it.
How could I be so stupid? How could I not make him wear protection? I’d been drinking, but not that much. It’s as if Ryurik made me lose all my bearings.
Fuck up. The definition of my current life. A bunch of things run through my mind. One of them being how I can’t deal with having a kid. I’m not equipped to be a mother. And not with him. Laura’s dying and I have to figure out a way to save her. Touching my stomach, I have to stop myself from heaving up lunch. The other harsh truth is I can’t afford to have a baby. My career’s dead in the water. Willy Dee’s dead, and I’ve been called to investigate the man who I slept with and now I’m having his baby. I’m going to be kicked off the force, and I can’t go through with it.
Staring at myself in the mirror, the A-word runs through my mind as I purse my lips together. It’s the only option I have. No matter how hard it is to deal with. I have to abort the child. I want to wallow in the mess I’ve created, but I don’t have time. My cell phone’s ringing. I run out to it—expecting it to be from work—but keeping an eye on the door. Ryurik busting through has got me wired for another spontaneous visit, but I haven’t so much as heard a peep out of him. If it weren’t for the positive pregnancy test, then the moment would be surreal to me.
I’m relieved to see who the caller is. Picking it up, I have a reason to smile. “Hi, Ms. Jenkins. Is everything okay for tonight?”
“Yes. I wanted to touch base with you. Do you think you can arrive a little earlier, Emily?”
Tonight is a special night. A very important piece of the puzzle of my life. It’s the annual Golden Hearts Fundraiser for Orphans, and it’s one of the city’s most prestigious events. I’ve been a valiant and active volunteer for a long time and helped put together the planning committee for this year. I haven’t been free enough to be a part of it in other years. My heart picks up a little because everything is coming at me hard and fast. I don’t think I can handle it with every other responsibility I have going on, but I’ve got no choice.
“I planned on being early anyway. It’s okay,” I reassure her, wanting everything to go well. It’s nerve-wracking enough as it is. I’m glad to be a part of this event; It’s personal to me. I know firsthand what it’s like to grow up in foster care and the struggles I’ve faced. Tonight, I put aside my detective side and just be Emily Wilson, the girl whose father abandoned her, leaving her to grow up in a flawed system designed for the struggle to continue.
No. Not tonight. These little girls need me, and we are going to raise as much money as possible for them. “Oh good. I know you will be. I’m just a little nervous. We already had to change over one of the microphones as it wasn’t working properly.”
“Oh shoot! Is it resolved now?” I ask.
“Sure is. Luckily Robin has spares on deck at the hall.”
“Great,” I gush out, multitasking and looking around the room for my earrings that will complement my dress. Any small detail to keep my mind occupied from the disappointment in myself. Not the child barely growing inside—but me. We were lucky enough to get the Hyatt Ballroom for the event, and every year we start planning at least eleven months ahead of time.
“Okay. I won’t hold you up any longer. I just wanted to go over a few details with you before the event starts.”
“No problem. I understand. See you soon enough, Ms. Jenkins.”
“Bye.” Hanging up the phone, I stuff my own personal problem to the side, running my hands over the electric blue wraparound dress I’ve picked for the night. The material is a little shiny, but I want it to be a happy color for the event. Pulling out my slingback pumps, I guide my eyes between the different selection of shoes, when probably I should go for the flats, but I don’t. I pick out the slingback heels hoping to God, they don’t give me too much trouble.
Once I’m dressed, I put on a cluster of pearl earrings, put on my makeup, and let out the rollers I have in my hair. Once I’m done, I make sure I’ve got all the guest list paperwork, the sponsorship information, the copies of the registration paperwork, the adoption process paperwork, the funding documentation, and last of all, my head. Once I’m ready, I head to my vehicle driving over to the ballroom, and when I see how beautifully and carefully decorated the place is, it almost moves me to tears.
The themed colors are blue, cream, and champagne and the team has done an excellent job with everything. I watch everyone placing the finishing touches on things upfront on the stage and find Ms. Jenkins, who is the president of the planning committee, directing the audiovisual team on stage.
“Yes, we want that spotlight to hit the middle of the stage. Right there. That’s the spot. Thank you, boys.” They give her the thumbs-up as I approach her with warmth. She’s been a foster mother to many in her house and has two adopted children herself. She’s saved and cherished so many souls, and I have the utmost respect for her. She oozes nurture and warmth, and if I didn’t have that in Laura, I would have been proud to have Ms. Jenkins in my life.
“Oh, you look wonderful, Emily! That color suits you down to the ground.”
“Thank you. And you too.”
“Oh. Thank you, but I’m not too fussed about this cream thing. I just care about raising as much money as I can for these kids.”
Touching her arm, I nod. “Me too. It’s going to be a wonderful night. The table arrangements are amazing, and the flowers? They turned out so well. Wow!”
“Yes.” Ms. Jenkins looks up, pointing to the chandelier. “I’m glad you could be on the committee this year. We got ourselves a very fancy space, and the Hyatt is fantastic. We have the mayor, some of the city’s biggest celebrities, lawyers, doctors, and very wealthy businessmen coming through. Now, normally I’m a humble woman, but I want them to empty their pockets tonight.”
We laugh together, clasping hands, and I feel the stress about the big night starting to ease. “Me too. Let’s beat that target from last year.”
“Yes. Let’s knock it right out of Lincoln Park.” We finish up all the last-minute arrangements and soon the ballroom goes from being an empty, classy showroom of dining tables and a stage to filling up with elegant, high-society Chicago citizens, and everyone is at their posts doing their jobs with ease.
Good. It has to be enough that one thing is going right in my life. And as the guests fill in around the ballroom with a lovely band playing on stage and the waiters buzzing around with complimentary drinks and cocktails, I’m escorted by Ms. Jenkins to a guest.
“Ooh, dear, do come with me. I want to introduce you to a very important person to the event.” I pivot with sparkling water in hand, sad that I can’t enjoy champagne, but given the news I’ve just uncovered, I can’t risk it.
When I look up into the face of the guest Ms. Jenkins so badly wants me to meet, I want to run. I mean, run as hard and as fast as I can to the exit and never look back. I feel the glass in my hand slide down my fingers, and it’s only by a hair’s breadth that it doesn’t fall right out of my fingers altogether.
Ryurik is standing in front of me, looking as criminally handsome as ever in a well-hung tux that looks as if it’s been carved to fit his muscular template in exactness. His thick hair is kempt for the event, washed and tamed in a smooth wave, letting his green eyes take the shine from his clean-shaven face.
“Ms. Jenkins, it’s nice to put a face to the name. We’ve spoken many times over the phone. You’ve done a fantastic job here. It looks like the stage is set for a spectacular night,” Ryurik praises in a tone as creamy sweet as butterscotch.
I’m not one to be intimidated, but my fancy panties underneath my wraparound dress are tied up in a bunch, and the only way they’re going to unknot is if I remove myself from Ryurik’s presence—the man who is the father of the growing child in my belly. And why is he pouring on this charm again? It’s the same characteristic that got my panties to drop after the club.
There’s a flush of heat flooding my face, and I hope the makeup’s enough to cover it up, but probably not. “Yes. I agree. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to attend. It’s much appreciated. As much as I want to take all the credit for organizing, I can’t. Emily here, has been an integral part of the planning committee as well.”
Fuck. Why did you have to mention me? Standing straighter, I put on my mask, holding out my hand as if I’ve just met Ryurik, but I plan on finding out what his game is real soon.
“Ah, Ms. Wilson. Nice to see you again.” Ryurik surprises me by grabbing my hand, electricity buzzing in it as his mouth touches down on the back of my hand. Jarred from it, I pick up my slack jaw and snatch my hand back.
Ms. Jenkin’s eyes shoot upwards. “Ah, you two know each other?” she asks inquisitively.
“Yes—” Ryurik starts.
“No,” I slam down, our eyes meeting in fire. Ms. Jenkins face reads confusion as I chuckle nervously. “Working in the police department, I’m sure many people know who I am,” I reply with passive aggressiveness. I’m not about to let this hunk of a bastard ruin the night that I’ve worked so hard to put together.
“I’m sure, Emily,” Ms. Jenkins remarks as Ryurik’s green eyes shine with contempt. I think I’ve made my point clear. “It’s quite incredible really, Mr. Utkin has given us the biggest donation of the night already. He called it in.” She cups her hand with a joyful smile on her face as Ryurik drops one hand in his pocket with a smirk.
What the fuck is going on? My throat tightens, but I get the words out. “Can I ask what the donation amount was?”
Ms. Jenkins smiles broadly. “I’m more than happy to toot the horn for Ryurik. May I?”
Ryurik gestures with one hand, the firepit growing inside me. I have the insane urge to smack the smirk right off his face, but keep my hand intact and holding on to my drink.
“Go on. Please. It’s not anonymous.”
“Mr. Utkin has donated a cool eight million to the foundation, and it’s going to help us exponentially. We can really make a difference, and it pretty much blows our organizational goals out of the window for the year.”
“Wow.” Taken aback I expel a slow breath. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. If you two don’t mind I have to head to the stage, I’ve got a quick run through to do backstage. Emily, I’ll see you back there shortly, yes?” Ms. Jenkins requests sweetly as I process what just happened.
“Ah yeah, sure. I’ll be back there soon.” I wait until she’s completely out of earshot, looking at Ryurik in shock. “Why?” I rush out. “What do you have to prove? Did you know I was going to be here?” I ask, perplexed by his appearance given what he is.
Ryurik smiles, not a smirk, but a touching one that’s making me uncomfortable. “Because the Bratva often makes regular donations. It’s part of our culture, and I’ve been donating to Golden Hearts for years anonymously, just this year I chose to be okay with it being public.”
Fuming and wanting to ignore his compassionate response, I hand my glass back to one of the waiters as they pass by. “No doubt you’re trying to appease the public and me by showing that you’re a good man, huh?”
“No. I can assure you that’s not what I’m doing, Ms. Wilson. And no, I didn’t think I was going to see you tonight, but I’m sure glad you’re here.” His eyes take a downward glance at my body scanning from head to toe. “You look beautiful.”
“Shut up,” I whisper, backing up, tears springing in my eyes. He’s been donating for years. To Golden Hearts.
How did I miss it again?