9. Adeline #2
“I’ll introduce—”
“Go.”
It’s one simple word, but it cuts into me in a way I’ve rarely felt. An order coming from a woman born and bred in the mafia. For a split second, I am a child again.
One day you’ll learn to play the game.
I catch Ciaran’s eye. Maybe it’s because I begged him to be nice earlier, but I swear instead of being upset at missing out on a chance to meet my dad, he seems concerned for me.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, shuffling off. I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Mom grilling Ciaran. Instead I watch her stride off, not bothering to chat with my date.
There’s a gaggle of men. Some faces I vaguely recognize. Dad is laughing, his smile widening when he sees me.
“Darling.” He presses a kiss to each cheek. “What’s wrong?”
I can’t help looking back once again to where I left Ciaran and Mom. “She’s. . .”
“Your mom is stressed,” Dad says. “She won’t admit it, but she’s sad you moved away.”
“Dad, I didn’t move to Russia.” Though now I’m regretting not picking a university in Europe like I’d toyed with. I could have missed out on a lot of drama. “I’m sorry.”
He cocks his head to the side.
“About not calling about Jack,” I explain.
Dad’s dark eyes hold steady, studying me. “I miss having you around the house, Ads. Lennie creeps around like a mouse. I never thought I’d miss Britney Spears blasting.”
A smile creeps over my face. “You know anyone is allowed to blast Britney Spears.”
He pinches my cheek. “How do I keep you safe, darling?”
“I am safe,” I lie.
He shoots me one of his fatherly looks. He’s pulled back into his group of businessmen, where they discuss boring things like cigars and old bottles of whiskey.
Nat appears, a whiskey in one hand. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I cross my arms, mirroring her posture. “Are you still in a bad mood?”
She tosses hair off her face. “I’m not in a bad mood.”
“You’re mad at me.”
“No, I’m not.” She sips her liquor. “I’m worried.”
“What? I’m fine.”
She takes another big gulp of whiskey. “No, my older sister siren is going off. Something's up, you’re just not talking about it.”
“You normally act bored when I call you,” I point out. “You didn’t believe me about the HR lady at first.”
“How is that going? The internship.”
“It’s fine.” Boring as hell and not as exciting as I thought it would be. Also, I’m the youngest intern since most of the others are in their senior year.
“And school?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Nat nibbles on her bottom lip. “Fine?”
I shrug.
“You’ve given soliloquies since you were a toddler, and now you’re pulling out the word ‘fine.’”
“I could send you a syllabus, let you see what I’m dealing with.”
Nat places her empty glass on a table and grabs a champagne flute when a server passes by. I’m guessing she’s had a rough week too.
“And this new guy? Where the fuck does he fit in?”
I grab a flute of champagne for myself.
“Ciaran?” she asks.
“He buys me coffee on the way to the library.”
She digests this information with a tiny frown. “Does he go to NYU?”
“No.”
“Then how’d you meet?”
“At the party the other day.”
Nat blinks. “He’s. . .”
One of us. I nod.
Her lips part, her words coming slow. “Ads. . .”
“He’s Cain Murray’s son,” I say, repeating Yelena’s words.
“Okay, um, why is he your boyfriend though?”
“What do you mean?”
“That party was a couple of weeks ago. Is he even from here? Where does he live? Why don’t you just date for a little bit and see how it goes.”
“I. . . Like him, and I don’t want to date around.”
“That’s labelling things really fast,” Nat cautions.
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Her eyes widen.
The knots in my shoulders burn, and the back of my neck is stiff.
Nat, despite being the oldest, rarely gives a lecture.
She’s the one with advice and an easygoing attitude.
I’m not sure if it’s the high heels rubbing the back of my feet, the static noise all around us, or the fact that Mom also acted weird, but tiny cuts bleed along my skin.
“Would you just say what you really want to say?” I roll my eyes, but there’s a rising tide of shame and disappointment crawling under my skin. Shame and disappointment for being a failure.
“You don’t have to be perfect,” Nat says. “You can just admit you’ve got crap roommates, you hate your internship, and that this guy is a distraction.”
“He’s not a distraction.” I frown. In high school, I was the first person to admit if a guy was stupid. Or not worth my time.
“He’s got an Irish accent.” It comes across as an accusation.
“So?”
Nat knocks back her champagne.
“You’re clearly going through something,” I say. “But I’m absolutely fine, thank you very much.”
Nothing to see here.
“I like my internship.” It’s going to help me get a job one day.
“Right.” Nat sounds doubtful.
“I’m sorry your roommate was shit your freshman year, but mine are great.”
“Of course.”
“And I like my Irish boyfriend.”
“Petulant, much?”
A sardonic smile paints my lips. “How are things with Lia? I heard she got engaged this week.”
“Fuck you.”
My head jerks back. There’s a burst of laughter from nearby, the group of businessmen still buddying up, but I feel Dad’s sharp gaze on us.
Nat’s never sounded like that. The bitter words spewed from within her.
She’s dated Lia since high school, but her parents want her to marry a guy named Peter. A Bratva arranged marriage. It’s this thing we’ve all known about for years. How much Nat loves her girlfriend, but how Lia won’t stand up to her parents.
“I guess we can expect an engagement between you and the Irish guy,” Nat says, her eyes glassy. “Add it to the fucking to-do list.”
Nat and I are both planners, but lately she’s weaponized this personality trait.
Since we’re both in shit moods, I respond with a, “Yes.”
Things might be shit now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t get what I want in the end.
College degree, husband, and a home. We’ll get a dog first. Some sort of medium sized breed. We’ll enjoy married life first and then try for kids when I’m around twenty-seven. That way I’ll have lived life but also still be a young mom.
I can make this work. Mom and Dad always taught us that when things went to shit, Akatovs always land on their feet.
I stare past Nat, spotting Ciaran walking over to my dad. I went about this all wrong. Ciaran thinks he played me, but there’s opportunity for the both of us.