Chapter 5 #2
Out of the corner of my eye, the lawyers were muttering to each other, and some were packing their briefcases. Victoria was standing with her hands on her hips, watching us like she might be called to testify about who said what.
Clementine began unpacking her small duffel-satchel on the coffee table. The canvas fabric was printed with a repeating capital-M pattern in the mustard-tan-chocolate color scheme of a circa 1983 rug, and yet somehow it looked really, really expensive.
“We’ll find you some good things eventually, Lexi, things befitting your station, but we’ll needs must make do in the meantime,” she said.
“I brought the rest of the demi-parure of those earrings I gave you last night. It’s not too much because you’ll want to keep your wedding rings as your main focus to continue upholding that ridiculous story you were telling everyone.
I have an evening bag for tonight that should go with whatever dress eventually catches your eye. Perhaps a bit more neutral, though.”
She placed a clutch purse the size of a mass market paperback on the coffee table, its color a little more cinnamon than burnt orange.
The decorative snap on top was a gilded knot, like someone had tied two cherry stems with their tongue.
From the way Clementine presented the purse, positioning it on the low coffee table beside the apple bowl like she might set a glass museum case over a rare specimen, it must have been an impressive purse.
From beyond the chairs, Victoria gasped.
“Wow,” I said. “It’s beautiful. I appreciate it so much.”
Of course, I didn’t know what it was. But I knew how to be polite.
Clementine nodded like I’d made an appropriate response. “You’ll need another dress for tonight, and we might as well stock up for the rest of the week while we’re at it. Have you eaten?”
“I’ll just finish that muffin and coffee,” I muttered.
Clementine turned. “Nico, we’re leaving. If you want to go with us, make haste.”
That last part sounded like a threat.
As I stuffed sugary muffin crumbs into my face and downed coffee to get them soggy enough to swallow, Nicolai announced to the lawyers, “Meet us back here at three. We’ll come to some kind of decision about our plan by then.”
Victoria shot me a warning look as she packed her laptop and notes into a tote and tapped her phone, reminding me to text her.
Attorneys began to straggle toward the exit, depending on how quickly they’d stowed their equipment and notes.
As Victoria passed me, she whispered, “Don’t you agree to anything, and for the love of baby Jesus, do not sign a damn thing.
Not a napkin. Not a credit card receipt. Nothing. Got it?”
I nodded to her, even though she didn’t really understand the situation, I thought.
Clementine strode toward the door, leaving her overnight bag on the coffee table as she trailed the quarrel of lawyers streaming toward the door. “Lexi, let’s go. My car is waiting outside.”
I bobbled back and forth. Clementine had told me to go with her. Was I supposed to?
Nicolai called from over by the bedroom door. “Dammit, Clemmy. Just wait a minute. We’ll take my car with my security.”
She did not break her long-legged stride. “Then hurry the hell up, Nico. Come on, Lexi. We’ll order a snack and coffee at the showing. We’re late.”
Nicolai called, “This isn’t Switzerland, Clemmy. Americans expect you to be a quarter-hour late.”
“I do not arrive late. Lexi, with me.”
Thank God, I was already wearing socks, so I dusted my hands on my jeans and ran for the bedroom to stuff my feet into my tennis shoes.
Not even bothering to tie the laces, I hurried my butt up and rounded the chairs of the living room grouping only five-ish yards behind Clementine as she neared the front door.
Ueli’s shoulders twitched so hard he looked like he was shrugging in stop-motion animation. “Mr. Romanov, she’s leaving.”
This seemed like another security faux pas, like when I’d opened the car door last night, but Clementine had told me to come with her. My pace stuttered as I simultaneously tried to walk toward the front door and back up into the living room.
Dusha was scanning Nicolai and Ueli, and he started to advance toward me.
Clementine shot me a glare as she sailed out the door, practically threatening my life with just a look if I didn’t get a move on.
Ueli said, “Nicolai.”
Behind me, Nicolai yelled, “Lexi, do not get into a car with her. She usually rents a fucking convertible and drives like a maniac. Ueli, Dusha, go with Lexi.”
“Mr. Romanov. The operational security protocols state—”
“Billionaire Sanctuary’s upper floors are secure. That’s why we stayed here. Don’t let Clemmy take Lexi outside the club or, for the love of God, drive her anywhere. I’ll be right behind you. Rendezvous in the lobby. Keep them indoors. Go!”
Dusha and Ueli marched after me as I passed through the doorway into the hall, trotting into formation and boxing me in.
Ueli was talking to the air about logistics, probably commanding someone through his headset. He broke off to snap something at Clementine in a guttural language, but she flipped one hand in the air and sniped something in her angry chirps without even turning her head to look at him.
Okay, Nicolai had said I wasn’t supposed to let her take me outside or get in a car with her. That was my boundary.
Ueli and Dusha were so alert, they were vibrating.
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this.