Page 10 of Vegas Baby

She doesn’t respond, she simply goes back to eating her breakfast, the small smile fixed on her face.

7

KIRA

After breakfast, I manage to work up the courage to turn on my phone, in no small part thanks to Sebastian. Both because I haven’t laughed in so long I can’t even remember, and because … well, he made it obvious I affect him that way. I’d started to wonder. He’s such a gentleman, and has made no kind of moves at all, so I figured he wasn’t interested in me as more than a good deed or an extension of his work.

It felt good to be wrong, though I can’t think too hard on why. Because I’m in no place to be thinking about anyone. Anyone except myself and, eventually, Andrei. Then … then maybe there will be room to think about handsome paramedics who make me laugh.

But right now, phone in hand, I have one purpose only, which does not include Andrei — yet — so I ignore his texts and voicemails, moving quickly to call Cliff before I am tempted to look at them.

“Kira,” he greets me in his gruff way. “It’s about time you called. What’s going on?”

I roll my eyes. Always to the point, no “How are you?” or “Are you okay?” — just “What’s going on because this is affecting the show.”

“I apologize for not calling sooner. I was only discharged yesterday and spent most of the day sleeping —”

“I don’t want excuses; I want to know what the situation is. Now, I’ve got Coralie standing in for you, but I need to know if you’re coming back, because you and I both know she’s not a replacement for you on a long-term basis.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was almost a compliment. But in this case, it is simple fact, really.

“I might be back in eight weeks,” I reply. “It will be up to the doctor whether I’m fit by then, but you have my word I will do everything in my power to be able to rejoin the show as soon as possible. If you’ll allow it.” And then I hold my breath.

“Well, your contract doesn’t allow for an absence longer than a week,” Cliff grumbles. “But I suppose we could figure something out. I can discuss the particulars with Andrei.”

My throat constricts with nerves, but I push deep and find my voice. “Can I not negotiate the terms myself? Or does your agreement with him not allow such things?”

“I have no agreement with Andrei, Kira. You’ve always had me talk to him about anything to do with your contract. It’s your contract, you can do what you want, I don’t give a flying rat’s ass. Come see me next week and we’ll sort it out.”

It’s my contract.

It’s my contract.

Andrei … the lying mu’dak never had any right to any of my money. He only said he did. He took it all from me. And I let him. My rage is ice in my veins as I try to focus.

“I will do that. And please, have you spoken to Andrei since … it happened?”

“No,” Cliff says, then pauses. “I don’t want to overstep, Kira, but I hope this means you’re ending your, er, business arrangement with him.”

“I am,” I reply emphatically, my chest warming from the closest thing Cliff has ever shown to concern for me. “Or I will. I — I will let him know he no longer has my permission to discuss such things with you going forward.”

“Good,” Cliff says bluntly. “I’ll have Lydia text you when she’s set my calendar for next week. Rest up, Kira.”

“Thank you, Cliff.” For more than you could possibly know, I think to myself.

When he hangs up, I turn my phone back off. And I sit, staring numbly at the blank screen.

The knowledge Andrei never managed my contract is both maddening and liberating. How could I let him control me so much I gave up even trying? But then, I’ve always been a survivor. And I knew with Andrei I would survive, so I didn’t push for more. Even though I tired of his commanding behavior quickly, it’s only been recently that it started to go beyond comments to actual threats again. At least not since we left home. Since he …

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thought. It’s only when I go still that I realize my chest heaves and tears stream down my face, my body clearly grieving all I’ve suppressed.

“What?” I call tonelessly, too tired and over it to hide my state.

The door opens and Sebastian appears, the picture of concern. “I heard crying.”

My brows bunch together before I realize the crying must’ve been me. It makes sense when I look for it, as I can also feel the rawness of my throat. I must have been sobbing as I came to terms with how foolish I’ve been.

I sniff deeply, quickly regaining control of myself. “I’m fine.”

---