17
Manicure
M y sister-in-law's nail salon was packed. She had already mentioned that if I ever wanted to go, I would need to make an appointment, but I went there anyway because I needed an alibi.
I was very angry, but if life had taught me anything, it was that smart women don't make dramas, they make deals, and I was very good at negotiating.
As soon as I left the hotel, I called Andrey to get an update on how things were in St. Petersburg.
I was pleased to hear that everything was under control and that my men were performing well in the city, even in my absence.
My businesses were thriving, Sarka had her bodyguards integrated into her daily life, and there was no longer a need for Andrey to stay longer.
I told him to remain there until the weekend, bring several reports, and I expected him back on Monday.
Also, I asked him, without telling anyone, to start looking for Cheng discreetly. If I had learned anything, it was that you couldn't trust anything or anyone, not even what your eyes see, which are the worst traitors in the universe.
I needed my own Plan B. Yuri's return didn't mean I was going to bow down and say amen to everything.
The gentle tinkling of the bell above the door announced my presence in Juliet's salon.
The clients looked at me with curiosity; fresh blood always stirred interest in such exclusive settings.
A sweet, though somewhat shrill voice rose above the soft music that exuded well-being and aimed to overshadow the sound of the files.
"Nikita Koroleva! How wonderful to see you here!"
I focused and realized there was Andrea, the wife of Arasagasti, the port director I had blackmailed with that inappropriate video. If her husband had told her, she wouldn't have greeted me with such enthusiasm.
I hadn't seen her since the party.
The receptionist must have recognized my name because she offered me a sweet smile and did not interrupt my entrance to address her.
"Hello, Andrea, it’s been a while."
"Indeed, we said we would meet and in the end, with one thing and another, we haven’t managed to see each other."
"Yes, well, we spent a few days in Santorini and were busy catching up with the companies."
The other clients had stopped talking, trying to draw their own conclusions about who I was. I didn’t know any of them except Andrea.
"Of course, I've also been quite busy adjusting the house. The move has been a nightmare. You know what it's like to get everything to one's liking." I didn't even consider telling her that I hadn't changed a damn vase in Romeo’s house. "I finally have it ready to invite you, so I no longer have an excuse not to ask you to come over for dinner; you were so kind to us when you invited us to that party when we arrived."
"It was the least I could do." She smiled politely at me.
"Excuse me for interrupting, Mrs. Koroleva," the receptionist interjected. "Would you like me to let Miss Capulet know you're here?"
"Yes, please. And while you're at it, if it's not too much trouble, I know you're fully booked, but see if there might be any openings today. My hands are a mess and I was hoping someone might have canceled." The girl looked flustered. "If not, it's fine, my fault for not calling ahead."
"Let me check. I can offer you a glass of champagne or a herbal tea while you wait. I'll personally notify your sister-in-law."
"Very kind of you. A glass of champagne will be fine, thank you. Do you have Mo?t?"
"Of course."
"Great."
The girl called over the employee who handled the bar, cloakroom, and product sales to serve me. I went to sit in a chair in the waiting area, but Andrea insisted that I come over to her, saying there was an empty seat next to her and we could catch up while I waited for my sister-in-law.
It didn't seem like a bad idea, especially considering who it was.
The place was very pretty, feminine, decorated in shades from pastel violet to white. It had beautiful glass windows that faced the street and quite spacious individual booths for each client.
I asked the bar girl to add another glass for Andrea and waited for her to give them to me so I could carry them over myself.
"Oh, how thoughtful you are, always thinking of others," the port director's wife celebrated.
"If only you knew," I thought to myself.
"So, have you settled in well? Does your husband like the port?"
"Very well, Karlos is really happy at work, the change has been a complete success."
"A pity it was due to a suicide." Andrea made a sad face.
"A tragedy, poor family."
"Indeed. And you? Are you doing anything besides decorating?" Her cheeks blushed. "I didn't mean to offend, being a housewife is great."
"No, no, it's okay, it's just that I haven't found anything yet, it's hard when you're an art teacher and move to a new place."
"You were a teacher?" She nodded affirmatively, her brown hair framing her face. "I admire people who can teach something, I don't have the patience."
"I really like children."
"Have you thought about starting a school?" The other women were still silent and eavesdropping, so I leaned closer to her ear. "Between you and me, there are a lot of bored women around here who think they have the future Matisse at home." She let out a soft giggle.
"You say the funniest things!"
"It's true."
"Surely, the problem is that I've never been much of an entrepreneur, my soul is that of an artist, not a businesswoman."
"I could be your patron..." Her eyes widened.
"My patron?" I took a sip from my glass and nodded.
"I'm a visionary, and I can recognize a good business opportunity when I see one. I have a feeling that you would be a safe bet in a place like this."
Andrea blushed at my words. It suited me to have the Arasagastis eating out of my hand.
"Do you really think so? I don't know what to say."
"Well, you say you accept, and when you leave here, you'll start looking for a nice place with enough parking so our future clients can bring their artistically inclined children. Ideally, it should be near a nice café, a hair salon, or a shopping area. That way, we'll give those moms another reason to leave their kids. I can already see it, welcome to the exclusive Madame Elizarán School of Fine Arts."
"Better Elizarán, which is my last name." I liked that correction.
"Of course." We both laughed.
"I'll have to mention it to Karlos, I don't know if he'll like the idea."
"Why?" She looked at me as if she didn't understand.
"I don't know, he's my husband, we usually discuss these kinds of things."
"I get that you'd mention it, but the decision is yours, right? I mean, he already has his position, he feels fulfilled and should be happy that you're doing something that fulfills you too. Luckily for all of us, these days we don’t need to ask anyone's permission to be what we want to be. Don’t you think?" She hesitated. The lady at the next booth listened intently. Seeing the sparkle in her eyes and the diamond ring she wore, I raised my eyebrows. "What do you think?"
"Well, if you ask for my opinion, I'd say that every woman should have her own space and her own drawer, just in case one day she feels like taking the leap and leaving her husband, you never know." She fixed her pupils on Andrea's face. "I, for one, wouldn’t think twice, you make a good team, and if you set up that school, I’ll enroll my daughter and tell my friends."
"See, we already have our first future client!"
Andrea was a bit overwhelmed and, although initially hesitant, she eventually agreed.
"Alright, I'll start looking for the place."
"That’s the spirit!"
"I own a real estate agency!" said the woman with the diamond ring quickly. "I just want to mention that because I'm sure I can find that beautiful location that fits your needs."
I knew I wasn't wrong in asking for her support. Businesswomen recognize each other.
"Fantastic!" I confirmed. "How does it look, partner?" Andrea’s eyes sparkled again.
"Yes, yes, great. Wow, I just came to get a French manicure and I'm leaving with a business proposal. Only good things happen around you," she murmured, looking at me with admiration.
"That’s because you deserve them. Don’t stray from my side and we’ll achieve great things together. You’ll see."
We clinked glasses and drank. She was so transparent and manipulable, I could see her picturing herself in that ideal space, teaching classes to countless little millionaires.
My sister-in-law appeared through a side door with an ashen face, looking unwell. I stood up immediately upon seeing her condition. She looked like she might collapse at any moment.
"You're here..." she murmured almost in surprise.
"Yes, sorry for not notifying you. Julieta, are you alright?" I was almost by her side.
"I was calling you..."
"Silly me, I put it on silent last night and forgot to turn the volume back up!"
It was true I had silenced it, but for a different reason. I didn’t want to be disturbed during my meeting with Yuri. I got distracted, and that's why I hadn't heard her calls.
"It’s... It's my brother..."
"Your brother?" My heart skipped a beat.
"The police called me, they set the club on fire with him and Dante inside..."
"What?!" I exclaimed. A pang shot through my chest. I grabbed my sister-in-law by the arms and shook her without restraint. "Are you sure?" She nodded. "Who did it? What happened? How is Romeo?"
The question choked me as I saw her break down crying inconsolably and shake her head in denial. When they did that in the movies, it was never a good sign.
Impossible! My husband couldn’t have died! Could he?