Chapter 4 #2
We work in comfortable silence for the first hour, occasionally discussing specific documents or clarifying procedures. Sarah creates detailed notes and flags potential problems.
Around seven-thirty, Mrs. Nykova brings us sandwiches and coffee, then discretely withdraws. The room feels different at night, more intimate somehow, with just the two of us working by lamplight while the grounds settle into darkness outside.
“Can I ask you something?” Sarah asks during a break in our document review.
“Of course.”
“What kind of business requires this level of documentation?” She gestures to the boxes of files we’ve been examining. “I’ve worked for landscaping companies and insurance agencies, but nothing that generated this much paperwork.”
“Import and export involves significant regulatory compliance. Every shipment needs proper documentation for customs, insurance, and tax purposes.” It’s a simplified version of the truth, but accurate enough. “One missing form can hold up a shipment worth millions of dollars.”
“That makes sense.” She returns to her work a few minutes later, but she still seems to be absorbing the information.
We’re deep in the audit when I hear footsteps in the hallway outside. The sound is distinctive and recognizable as high heels tapping across the floor with the precise rhythm I’ve learned to associate with Katya Nikitina’s unique sway.
“Expecting someone?” asks Sarah, looking up from the file she’s reviewing.
“Not exactly.”
Katya appears in the doorway wearing a black dress and an expression that suggests she isn’t here for a social call.
She stares at us, taking in the conference table covered with documents, Sarah and me working side by side, and the intimate lighting of the evening setting.
“I apologize for interrupting,” she says, though her tone suggests no such thing.
“I was hoping to discuss some details about our upcoming engagement announcement.”
I stand, immediately shifting into the formal mode Katya’s presence requires. “Of course. Sarah, would you excuse us for a moment?”
Sarah nods and begins gathering the files on which we’ve been working. “I’ll organize these in chronological order while you’re talking.”
“How dedicated,” Katya says with a hint of mockery while watching Sarah’s movements with sharp eyes. “I do hope you’re not working your dear assistant too hard, Yarik. She looks rather tired.”
The comment is clearly designed to sound concerned while actually being dismissive, suggesting Sarah isn’t capable of handling demanding work.
I watch Sarah’s reaction carefully and see her pause for just a moment, her jaw tightening almost imperceptibly before she continues organizing the documents.
“Sarah is quite capable,” I say simply.
“I’m sure she is.” Katya’s smile is sharp. “I do wonder if late-night work sessions are really appropriate. People might get the wrong impression.”
The implication hangs in the air like a threat wrapped in silk. Sarah’s cheeks flush slightly, but she doesn’t look up from her work or acknowledge the conversation.
“Shall we discuss your concerns in my office?” I gesture at the door, making it clear this conversation will continue privately.
“Of course.” Katya moves past Sarah without another glance, her heels clicking authoritatively against the floor.
I follow her into my office, closing the door behind us and immediately regretting I have to deal with this when I’d rather be working with Sarah. “What do you want, Katya?”
She settles into the chair across from my desk. “I want to know why you’re playing house with the gardener.”
I scowl at her. “I’m conducting business with my assistant. Nothing more.”
“Your assistant who used to fix sprinkler systems.” Her tone makes it sound like a personal failing. “Really, Yarik, if you needed additional office help, there are agencies that could have provided someone with actual qualifications.”
“Sarah is perfectly qualified for what I need.”
She arches her brow slowly, in a suggestive way. “What exactly do you need that requires such...personal attention?”
The question carries implications I choose not to address directly. “I need competent administrative support. Sarah provides that.”
“I see.” She settles back in her chair, studying me with the expression I recognize from when she’s planning something unpleasant. “I suppose everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, even if they’re clearly out of their depth.”
I huff out an irritated breath. “Was there something specific you wanted to discuss about the engagement announcement?”
“Actually, yes…sort of.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a folded newspaper clipping. “I thought you should see this before it becomes a wider story.”
I take the clipping and scan the headline: “Barinov-Nikitin Alliance Strengthens Eastern European Trade Networks.” The article is brief but detailed, describing our upcoming marriage as a strategic merger that will reshape import-export operations across multiple countries.
“Interesting timing,” I say. “I don’t recall authorizing any press announcements.”
“Sometimes these things develop a momentum of their own.” Her tone is innocent, but her eyes are calculating. “Once the contracts are signed, it becomes a matter of public record anyway.”
I nod once. “The contracts haven’t been signed yet.”
“They will be by the end of the week, according to my father.”
I set the clipping aside and meet her gaze directly.
“Nothing gets signed until I’m satisfied with the terms.” I want to bring up the outrageous clause dictating how many children we’ll have, but I’m not sure I can discuss it right now.
She’s already made me angry, and the thought of having to touch her to make any children forces me to swallow my gorge.
I never imagined she actually planned to consummate the business merger.
“Of course.” She stands, smoothing down her dress.
“I just wanted to make sure you understood people are watching this situation with considerable interest. Any complications would be unfortunate for all involved.” The threat is clear, even if diplomatically phrased.
Katya is reminding me that backing out of this arrangement would have consequences beyond personal disappointment.
“I understand the stakes perfectly.”
“Good.” She heads toward the door, then pauses. “You might want to consider the optics of working so closely with your staff. People talk, and not all conversations are charitable.”
After she leaves, I return to the conference room to find Sarah still working. She’s made significant progress organizing the files, but there’s a tension in her posture that wasn’t there before.
“Everything all right?” I ask as I take my seat across from her.
“Fine.” She doesn’t look up from the document she’s reviewing. “I should probably mention that I couldn’t help overhearing some of your conversation.”
“Such as?”
“The part about me being out of my depth.” She finally meets my gaze, and I can see hurt there despite her controlled tone. “I hope my work has been satisfactory so far.”
“Your work has been excellent. Katya’s comments have nothing to do with your performance.”
“Then why did she say such things?”
I consider how much to reveal, weighing honesty against the complexity of the situation. “Katya is my fiancée. She has...opinions about how I conduct my business.”
Her expression shifts, and for a moment I see something that might be disappointment before it’s quickly hidden. “I see. Should I be concerned about job security?”
I frown. “No. Your position depends on your performance, not on anyone else’s opinions.”
“Good to know.” She returns to her work, but something has changed in the atmosphere between us. The easy collaboration we’d developed over the evening has been replaced by a careful distance.
We finish for the evening in relative quiet, with Sarah maintaining professional while clearly withdrawing emotionally.
By the time we’re done, I regret Katya’s interruption more than I should.
“This is excellent work,” I say as we review the final summary.
“You’ve identified several issues that could have been serious problems.”
“Thank you.” She stands and begins gathering her things. “Will you need me to stay late again this week?”
“Possibly. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Of course. Good night, Mr. Barinov.”
“Good night, Sarah.”
I watch her leave, noting the way she holds herself with careful dignity despite the evening’s difficulties. Katya’s visit was clearly designed to establish territory and send a message, but I’m not sure it achieved the intended effect.
If anything, it’s clarified something I hadn’t wanted to examine too closely.
I’m more interested in Sarah Clark than is wise or appropriate, and judging by her reaction to learning about my engagement, the interest might not be entirely one-sided.
That makes the situation considerably more complicated than a simple employment arrangement.
Sarah Clark is becoming more important to me than she should be.