Chapter 14 Natalie
NATALIE
Friends, huh?
I didn’t have enough friends to know if this was normal. Fitz had been my main friend for so long and I never developed much of a circle beyond him. The doubt in my mind hinted that what Sergei was doing wasn’t normal. Friends didn’t practically kidnap each other just to keep them safe.
Friends didn’t kiss and pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend, either.
The rational side of my brain won out. If Sergei wanted to call himself my friend and the simple concept of friendship was his motive to let me and my daughter be a guest in his luxurious penthouse, then I would be a fool not to take him up on that offer.
I did feel like a fool despite knowing I was safe here.
The guards in the building seemed like criminals, but I was safe.
Ever since my husband died, I struggled to find and build on my independence in this big, bad world we inhabited.
However, relying on Sergei would be a step backward in that effort.
Depending on a man didn’t seem so smart.
Especially when I didn’t have many details about who he was and where he came from.
It didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t use his last name with Maisie. She was young, but she had formal habits of polite salutations. She knew to call someone Mr. and Mrs., but he hadn’t supplied his surname.
I lacked the chance to ask now, though. Any explanations would have to wait.
Because as he started to make us breakfast of pancakes and eggs, I was impressed with how comfortable and at ease a strong and wealthy man like him could be in the kitchen.
I couldn’t help but live in the moment, watching this shirtless man move without any clumsiness.
His muscles stretching and bunching, all his taut skin flexing while showing off tattoos and scars.
I was helpless to admire this mystery man, my new “friend.” My stubborn hero who yanked me out of the lonely situation I had been in for too long.
A man like him who could afford a place like this wouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything. Yet, he was the one in the kitchen, making pancakes and eggs with me and Maisie watching over him.
Guilty to be a guest and not help, I got up and joined him in preparing the food.
Before I could get too hung up on how natural it was to move around each other and how domestic this felt—because Fitz had never done anything in the kitchen—Maisie spoke up.
She asked questions about what happened last night, and I answered her the best that I could.
I told her in the simplest form that we just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and those men were bad guys who wanted to cause trouble.
As I spoke, though, I couldn’t shake off the loose memory that the men seemed to recognize Sergei.
That can’t be right. He didn’t know them.
Everything happened in such a blur.
But maybe they knew of each other. If he’s in the security business, maybe.
I was clear to tell my daughter that those men wouldn’t bother us again. I cringed at the idea of her seeing them die. I had tried to block her face, and she had tucked against me as if she hadn’t wanted to watch any of it.
“How long will we be here?” she asked.
Sergei answered, “However long you want.” He gave me a sober look that confused me. As if he was passively and indirectly asking me if I wanted to be here for more than just a temporary trial.
After we ate, Maisie stood at the wide windows with the whole city below us.
I started on the dishes while Sergei stood with her.
He was patient, pointing out the landmarks and buildings that she asked about.
Watching him be so gentle toward her, even though he was clearly unused to speaking to a child, I warred with the question of why he wanted us here.
He hadn’t known about her, and I supposed he was merely going along with the surprise that I came as a package. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate to make us comfortable. For the rest of the day, he went above and beyond to make us feel like guests at a fancy hotel.
He had clothing brought to us, and Maisie had a blast trying on new things.
Before I could feel intimidated about how Sergei could’ve guessed my size or my daughter’s, Claire returned.
In the light of the day, she seemed less like a hired doctor and more like a family member.
I supposed that was natural, though, because she was engaged to Sergei’s uncle.
Maisie was all smiles for the charismatic doctor with a British accent.
A young woman came with Claire and served as a further distraction.
Anya was Claire’s stepdaughter-to-be, and also one of Sergei’s cousins.
Inquiring any more about the family dynamics would’ve been smart, but watching the teenager encourage my daughter to play dress up with her was too much of a gift to pass up on.
With Claire and me supervising, they goofed off with the clothing that was way too big to wear, layering them on like they were on stage and had costumes.
Anya warmed up to Maisie quickly, and it was clear that Claire had asked her to help with a child on the premises. They had toys, coloring books, and other gadgets to keep Maisie busy.
I felt spoiled. Each time I thought about how much Sergie was doing for me and Maisie, I detested that I wasn’t doing this for her.
It was my job to feed, clothe, and provide for her.
Sergei had left to give us “girl time” while he handled business, but he was still on my mind as the sole source of how Maisie and I were experiencing this vacation-like day from reality.
Claire picked up on my hesitation to accept all the gifts. “Would you like to talk?” she asked me over coffee in the kitchen.
“Am I allowed to speak to you without Sergei around?” I quipped wryly. He saw himself as the boss of me and I wasn’t sure what was “allowed” in his home.
She smiled. “This is just us talking. He can go do his business and I can see how you’re doing. Are you okay? Last night had to have been very traumatic.”
I sighed. Not as traumatic as the night I was told that Fitz was shot and killed. I nodded. Then shrugged. “I’m confused. I don’t understand why Sergei brought us here. I appreciate his saving us, but he claims we’re just friends. I can’t accept all this from a friend.”
“It’s okay to accept help. It’s okay to acknowledge that you need help, too.”
I hated how right she was. I had been struggling for too long in this dangerous city as a single mother. Until Sergei walked into the Diamond Mirage that night, I hadn’t even thought that anyone would want to help me. Or realize how badly I was drowning under my responsibilities.
“I was in your shoes before,” Clarie said.
As we enjoyed our coffees, with Anya and Maisie coloring in the living room with a Disney movie on in the background, Claire explained how she’d met Mikhail, Sergei’s uncle.
She had been facing danger then, and Mikhail was her hero.
Even though she didn’t give many details, she painted a picture of how she found safety in this family.
It reassured me, but I still wanted more details.
That night, though, I slept soundly.
The next day, I found a note from Sergei, saying that he was gone for work and that if I needed anything, to contact Claire, Anya, the head maid, or a butler for the buildings.
“Butler?” I whispered to myself with a scoff. I would never get used to how the other side of humanity lived.
Maisie and I had a relaxing day of lounging and hanging out in the apartment.
We made food together. We colored. I read to her and she watched a movie.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had a chance to just be with her, and I would treasure it forever.
But the closer the time came to when I’d need to get ready for work, I became more and more stressed.
Daria would need to come here to watch Maisie, and I didn’t have an address to give her. She’d need time to get across town, too.
I didn’t have long to worry about it because Sergei came home with bags of delicious-smelling takeout.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, but I need to give my sitter instructions on how to get here.”
He raised his brows as he set the bags on the counter. “For what?”
“To watch Maisie so I can go to work. I’ll pay you back for all these things, Sergei.
But I really need to hurry to work.” I bit my lip, worried he’d be insulted that I implied he couldn’t watch her.
“I realize you prioritize her safety.” He clearly did.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dived to potentially take a bullet for her.
“But she’s more used to Daria and familiar with her.
I can’t burden you with watching her while I’m at work. ”
He shook his head. “You’re not going to work.”
That sounded like a miracle. I hated working at that bar, but I had to. The way he declared it like that had my hackles raising. Heat coursed through me with the impending need to fight back. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not going back to that bar.”
I crossed my arms. “And who are you to decide that?”
He stared me down as he continued to remove containers from the bags. A flicker of excitement danced in his gaze, like he was thrilled to fight with me. “Your friend.”
I ground my teeth. “No. No man is going to tell me what to do.”
“I’ve seen how people treat you there. The owner doesn’t care who harasses you. It’s risky. It’s not safe. And if it means you’re always walking home late at night when others could jump you on the street, it’s not wise to take that chance.”
He wasn’t lying. I struggled with all that he’d said.
“Since those men know where you live now, the ones who are alive, they could come back to follow you there,” he added calmly.
“Then what are my options? Depend on you when I have no clue who you are? Stay here forever as a guest? That’s ludicrous.”
He gave me a slow once-over, like he was considering his options about me. It gave me the same sense of butterflies in my stomach that I felt when he kissed me.
“I have a life. A daughter to provide for. Worries of my own. You can’t commandeer my life as you see fit.”
He shook his head. “I will step in as I see fit,” he argued. “Your best option is to relax here for a while until things settle down. I have men looking into those thugs who followed you that night. I will make sure that your home can be safe again, but these things take time.”
He was too damn sweet. Generous. But bossy and not understanding my perspective. “I can’t not have a job. I have bills. I have to make a living.”
“Then I’ll secure you another job somewhere better when the time comes for it. I have connections.” He shrugged like my employment was a non-issue.
“So, you’re saying my best option is to take a chance on you.”
He slowly walked around the counter to face me.
“Would that be so bad?” As he peered down at me, lowering his voice, the inches between us posed a threat of intimacy I wasn’t sure I could handle.
We were only talking—arguing—but the gentle patience he wore seemed like a mask to a more brutal and hungry interest he held for me. “Is it so bad to be here?”
“I feel bought.” I swallowed hard. “Kidnapped.” I refused to lose this anger. “I need to be independent. Ever since my husband died, I’ve learned the hard lesson of being able to stand strong on my own.”
He put his hands on my upper arms and rubbed them. Stroking his thumbs up and down, he urged me to relax. “You are strong, Natalie. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you at that bar. You don’t quit. And you won’t lose your independence by allowing me to help you.”
“But why?” That question always came back and hit me the hardest. “Why me? Why do you care about me?” Loathing how submissive he made me feel, I stepped away and backed out of his reach. “Or is it just that you care about being in control?”
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Maisie said as she came into the room. “Hi, Mister Sergei.”
“Hungry?” he said, using her as a distraction. “I’ve got some Chinese here.”
She beamed, running to the counter. “Mmm!”
I sighed, watching him patiently tell her what the containers held. She didn’t know the official names, so she asked if they were “noodles and chicky”. His quiet and serious controlling attitude toward me was a headache, but these rare flashes of tenderness and patience toward her bothered me more.
Like this, he was almost human, not some out-of-reach dictator of my life.
Like this, he showed a gentler nature, as if he wasn’t only concerned about manipulating me and setting me up to rely on him here.
There has to be a catch.
Whatever it is, I’ll find out.