Chapter Seven - EMMA
CHAPTER SEVEN
EMMA
I WOKE UP this morning to the most horrible looking bruise on my left cheek.
It didn’t look too bad last night, it was just red and sore, but today it’s the nastiest shade of purple I have ever seen.
I think there may actually be three or four different shades of purple coloring my cheek.
The center of it looks almost black, while a color that is closer to lilac borders my eyes.
That guy last night hit me harder than I thought he did.
I call the hospice house to check on Gran. I’m only working a lunch shift today, so I tell Kristin that I’ll be over this afternoon when I’m done with work. After taking a shower and making myself a large cup of coffee, I pull out my makeup bag and figure out what to do to cover up the bruise.
I don’t generally wear a lot of makeup; only a tinted moisturizer, eye liner, and some mascara. However, I do keep some concealer on hand for those dark circles I get if I don’t get enough sleep.
As I’m digging through my makeup bag, I surprise myself when I find a compact of cream to powder foundation.
I vaguely remember buying some about a month ago when I was out shopping, before I discovered the tinted moisturizer that I now use.
This stuff, plus the concealer and color corrector should do the trick for helping my face look more normal.
About twenty minutes and several layers later, my bruise is nearly completely covered. It looks pretty good, and it will have to do for work today. I pop two painkillers in my mouth, wash them down with the last of my coffee, and head out the door to work.
I get to work and say hello to Boris as usual. When he looks up at me, his eyes go wide and he runs over to me.
“Emma, what happen to you?” Boris asks, grabbing me by the shoulders.
“What do you mean Boris? I’m fine,” I tell him.
“Your face. What happened to your cheek?” he asks again, pointing to the shadow I couldn’t cover up with makeup.
“I’m fine Boris. It was an accident,” I tell him.
“Emma, I see the bruise. Something happened. Tell me or I go upstairs and get Marina and she will get it out of you.”
“No. Please don’t bother Marina,” I beg him before hesitating to continue. “…A stranger grabbed me and attacked on my way home from work last night.”
“Why are you at work today? You should stay home to rest.”
“Boris, I’m fine. I did the best I could to cover everything up, so hopefully nobody will ask questions. I want to be here. Besides, I need the money to help pay Gran’s hospice bills,” I tell him.
“You only work lunch today, then take tomorrow off. I still pay you,” Boris insists.
“I’m only supposed to work lunch today, anyway. I’m going to see Gran later.”
“Good. Are you sure you okay to work today?” Boris’ accent gets really thick when he starts getting angry or upset about something.
“I’m fine, Boris. Really.”
Boris nods his head reluctantly and mumbles something quietly under his breath as he walks back to the kitchen. It’s almost opening time, so I hurry to help get the last of the prep done before we unlock the doors.
Boris asked me to keep the corner table by the kitchen open for some guests today.
It’s about an hour into the lunch service when the hostess seats a party of four at the table.
The first thing I notice is how attractive those at the table are.
I take a deep breath before I head in their direction.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen so many beautiful men at once.
There are four seated, but I can only see the faces of three.
All of them have different colored eyes, and from how tall they are while seated, they must be at least six feet tall or more.
The fourth man at their table has his back to me.
He’s got dark-blond hair and is definitely the tallest in the group.
They’re all dressed in suits, so this must be a business lunch of some sort.
“Privet,” I say as I get to the table. Four pairs of eyes turn to look at me, and I immediately recognize the last pair. It’s Ivan, the man who saved me from my attacker last night. My heart flutters as heat starts to pool in my lower abdomen.
“Emma,” I hear him say. Holy goodness, his voice is even deeper than it was last night. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello Ivan. I, uh…I actually w-work here,” I stutter as I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. I shouldn’t be feeling this nervous; I barely know this man. “I usually work the dinner shift but recently I’ve started working the lunch shift too.”
“Wait, do you two know each other?” one of the other table guests asks, pointing back and forth between Ivan and I.
“I helped Emma last night with a little problem she was having,” Ivan replied. “These are my brothers: Dmitri, Maksim, and Grigory.” Ivan points to each of his brothers as he introduces them.
“Pleasure,” I say, giving my best smile I can while nodding at the table. I’ll probably forget their names as soon as they leave, but what a vision I’ll have while they’re sitting here. “What can I get you gentlemen to drink?” I take their drink orders and retreat to the kitchen.
“Hey, Boris, you want to hear something funny?” I ask as I get the drinks prepared.
“I always want to hear funny,” Boris responds.
“There was a man who helped me last night with my attacker. Right now, he’s currently sitting at the corner table with his brothers for lunch,” I tell him.
“Oh good. Ivan is here with the boys. They come every week. Tell him I make him something good for saving you last night. He doesn’t order from menu.”
“Who is this guy?” I ask as I finish putting the drinks on the tray to take back to the table.
“He is good friend, and good man. He is like son to me and Marina,” Boris says with a warm smile.
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. I don’t hear Boris talk about someone with so much love and respect in his tone unless he’s talking about his wife. I pick up the tray and return to the dining room.
“Here you go,” I tell them as I serve their drinks. “Boris has told me that you’re not to order from the menu, because he will make you something good.”
“Boris is a good man,” Ivan says as he chuckles, taking a sip of his drink.
“So what was this problem that Ivan helped you with last night?” one of Ivan’s brothers asks—as I have already forgot their names.
“Dmitri, it is none of your business,” Ivan speaks before I can answer.
“I can answer. I don’t mind.” I look at him, practically at eye-level even though he’s sitting down. “I was attacked last night on my way home from work.”
“You were attacked?” Grigory asks, setting his drink down a little harder than he probably meant to.
“Yes. Your brother pulled the guy off me and then walked me home.”
“Oh he did, did he?” Dmitri sends a sly smile Ivan’s way while his other brothers give their own looks.
“Yes, I did,” Ivan confirms. “You know Mama raised us to help women, not harm them.”
“She did,” Dmitri agreed.
“How is your cheek today?” Ivan asks, directing his attention back towards me. His jaw clenches when he sees the slightly darkened area of my face where the bruise is still showing through the layers of makeup.
“It’s better, sort of. It doesn’t really hurt at the moment, and I found some makeup to cover the bruise,” I tell him. “I put ice on it to help with swelling, like you suggested.”
“Let me see, Emma,” Ivan tells me. I can feel heat spreading across my chest as Ivan takes in the side of my face. I’ll never get through lunch if I start blushing every time he looks at me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.
“I’m fine. Boris has already given me what for about working today. I’m only working the lunch shift, and then I’m off tomorrow at his insistence.”
“Good,” Ivan says, keeping his eye on my bruise.
“I’m going to go check on your food. Can I get you anything else while you’re waiting?”
“I’ll take another drink, please,” Ivan requests politely.
“No problem. I’ll be right back.” I smile as I retreat to the kitchen.
The rest of the lunch service goes smoothly. Ivan and his brothers stay until the end, practically having to be pushed out the door when we close for the afternoon.
“Do svidaniya, Emma,” Ivan says, taking my hand in his and kissing the top of my knuckles like he did last night. His lips are so soft and warm, and the action makes me blush again.
“Do svidaniya, Ivan. Pozhaluysta, vozvrashchaytes’ poskoreye. Thank you for coming,” I reply.
“You speak Russian?” Ivan asks with surprise in his voice.
“Da. I grew up speaking Russian with some of my family, and I speak it with Boris when I’m working,” I reply.
“Hmmm.” Ivan looks thoughtful as he gives me a smile. “See you soon, lyubimaya.” Then he walks to his car.
I watch Ivan’s car pull away from the restaurant, and can’t help but smile as butterflies continue flying around in my stomach.
I go back inside to finish cleaning up and get my things.
I’ll visit Gran for a little while, and then go home to rest—maybe even watch some more Gilmore Girls on my laptop before bed.