Chapter Sixteen #2
We were served soon after, and everyone began to eat as they talked. Madam Regina leaned toward Malia’s mother the way women did when they picked up a thread they had set down many times before. Laughter followed, and glasses were raised at the same moment. Madam Regina was close to this family.
I took a bite and listened as the conversation switched to inflation.
They spoke about hardship the way people do about the weather, always expecting it to pass.
I remembered the month I paid the electricity bill two weeks late.
I still stood in the kitchen, counting what was left for us to buy food.
Yet here, they expected hardship to pass easily.
My eyes drifted to Malia. She moved through the conversation without effort, her contributions shaped by classrooms I had never sat in. For me, I gained my knowledge from life and old borrowed books.
“I think we can all agree the current inflation is a temporary correction,” Mark said, cutting into his steak. “The market always stabilizes.”
Everyone nodded in agreement except me. Well, Dmitri, as well.
He was entirely quiet, the kind that wasn’t an absence but a choice. I turned slightly and found him lifting his glass, eyes already on me.
I looked away fast and reached for my water, but froze when his hand came down on my thigh. Confused, I lowered my eyes to his hand, just to see what it was doing there. But I caught the fresh bruises on his knuckles. Did he hit something?
“You seem bored by the topic,” Dmitri said, loud enough for everyone to turn to me.
Heat crawled up my neck. I looked at Dmitri, then at the others who were waiting for me to answer a question I hadn’t raised my hand for.
“No, of course not.” I smiled to convince them.
“Oh, forgive us, darling,” Madam Regina laughed lightly. “We forget ourselves.”
“Not at all,” I assured her, because they could talk about whatever they wanted.
“What do you think about inflation in the state?” Malia’s mother asked. Her voice was smooth, but her eyes said something else entirely. She didn’t offer her name when I came. Maybe she assumed I wouldn’t need it.
“I think it depends on who you’re talking about.
” I kept my voice low. “When prices go up, people like you might delay a property purchase or adjust an investment. But others choose which bill to pay late that month.” I paused.
“Rent has gone wild across parts of Florida. You call it temporary, but for families already behind, every temporary month stacks on another.”
The table was quiet in a scary way. But I kept going before I could talk myself out of it.
“If a small shop owner pays more for supplies, they raise prices. Customers will buy less, and the shop earns less. It’s a chain, and when it tightens, the weakest link goes first.”
Malia looked bothered. “So you’re saying inflation only hurts low-income households?”
“I’m saying it hits them the hardest,” I said. “Because there’s no cushion. If you have investments, you can wait for the recovery. But if you’re living week to week, there’s no waiting. You feel it the same day the price changes.”
“And the solution?” Malia pressed. “Government control? Price caps? Intervention?”
I opened my mouth, but Dmitri spoke first. “Isn’t she right?” He asked, and Malia stilled.
After swallowing, I turned back to Malia.
“I’m not arguing. I’m saying you can’t discuss inflation like it’s a graph with no people attached to it.
When households can’t afford to spend, demand drops.
Businesses feel that. It moves up the chain.
” I searched for the word and lost it for a second.
“It’s about the overall... the overall... ”
Dmitri’s thumb pressed gently against my thigh.
“Consumer confidence. When that drops, it doesn’t stay in one corner of the economy. It spreads. You can’t build anything stable on a cracking foundation.”
Nobody reached for their glass or cut into anything. They all looked at me as if I were suddenly out of place.
My heart was racing, but Dmitri’s caress on my thigh kept me grounded. I didn’t look down or apologize. I wasn’t educated as they were, but I learned a few things on my own because life forced me to.
Madam Regina cleared her throat. “Foundations matter a lot,” she said. “You can polish the top floor as much as you like. But if the base is unstable, the whole structure comes down.”
I stared at her at the head of the table. She was warm to me from the moment Dmitri and I walked in, a warmth that didn’t feel forced, and I was holding onto that quietly.
“While we are at that,” she continued. “I’m sure you are all wondering about Inna.
” My stomach dropped before she finished the sentence.
“We respect what this friendship has meant over the years, and we understand that the arrangement between Dmitri and Malia was something we all agreed to in good faith.”
The words landed. Was she going to talk about marriage? This was bad.
“We have agreed to end it,” Madam Regina declared, “now that Dmitri and Inna have a past.”
I reached for my water and took a slow sip, shaking.
None of this made sense. I was temporary.
Dmitri knew Cole wasn’t his son. He built the whole arrangement around the fact that I was temporary.
And yet here sat his grandmother, ending a real engagement for my benefit.
Malia was the educated one. She wore the right things and fit into this world without having to be briefed on how it worked. And I was the reason that was ending.
He also made his grandmother believe the lie.
Laughter broke through from somewhere down the table. Madam Regina and Malia’s mother already moved on. What just happened? I surfaced back into the room and looked at Malia.
She was not laughing, but when I looked at her, she pushed her chair back and got up.
“Excuse me,” she said, and left.
I also got up and followed her down the hallway. We passed closed doors until she pushed into the bathroom, and I stepped in behind her. She went to the sink and let the water run over her hands.
“Congratulations,” she said, looking at me in the mirror as she reached for a paper towel.
“About that, I didn’t know the dinner was about it.”
She turned to face me, folding the paper towel once. Her eyes moved over me, checking me out, then came back to my face.
“I can tell.” She smiled, “I can also tell there’s a lie in here somewhere. I haven’t found it yet. But it’s there.”
“Malia—”
“Have you seen yourself?” She scoffed. “If Dmitri brought in a model or a businesswoman, at least that would make sense. But you?” She shook her head and dropped the paper towel into the bin.
“He could have used someone better to get rid of me. Anyone.” Her eyes moved over me one more time, making sure I felt it.
The tightness in my throat pulled harder. She was right, and we both knew it.
“But then again,” she pressed on, her voice dropping as if she was amused, “who else would be easy enough to use?”
She turned towards the door.
“You like him,” I said, and she stopped.
I closed the distance between us until there was nowhere else for her eyes to look. If she wanted to feed on the fact that I was nothing, I would give her the full meal.
“I followed you here because I know you like him. The announcement was sudden, and I actually wanted to say something kind.” I paused. “But hearing you, I now understand why Dmitri used someone like me to get rid of you.”
I smiled, the kind that didn’t need to be warm to land. I reached out and took the door handle from her grip.
“If it will help you sleep, yes. I’m easy to use.” I let my eyes move over her the same way she moved them over me, from the toes, then back to her face. “And when he is done using me, I genuinely hope he finds someone better than you.”
I opened the door and stepped out.
For someone who didn’t know what true hustling was, she had no right to put her mouth on me like that. I didn’t intend to say any of what I said. But no, I needed to draw a line for her.
Useless rich people.
I returned to the dining table and settled into my seat. Malia came back shortly after and sat down without looking at me once. It all terrified me, but I didn’t let it show. I would give anything for Dmitri to get me out of here.
“My wife had a long day. I believe this is settled. We are leaving.” Dmitri was already on his feet. He never asked; he simply moved, and the world arranged itself around his words.
He took my hand, and I got up. I could have kissed him right there. He read my mind.