Page 24 of Wicked Arrangement

“Nice to meet you,” I say politely, extending my hand to shake hers.

She holds onto mine a little too long, coming a little too close to me. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” she replies flirtatiously.

Kimberly purses her lips, a small frown on her face. I realize that she’s jealous, something I find myself enjoying.

“Let’s go grab a coffee, shall we Amelia?” Kim suggests, her tone brokering no argument.

“Sure, can I get you anything Yaroslav? Anything at all?” she asks flirtatiously.

“No, thank you,” I reply.

I’m used to women acting like this around me, perhaps that’s why I felt drawn to Kim in the first place since she hasn’t been like that. I can’t help but find myself judging Amelia slightly for it though. While Kim and I aren’t anything, it’s clear I’m here with her, and therefore more than a little disrespectful to more or less throw herself at me in front of her.

“Oh my god Kimmy, you didn’t tell me he was such a hottie!” I hear Amelia cry as they leave the room.

I can’t hear the rest of their conversation as evidently, Kim hurries her friend away. Emma sighs indulgently and tuts, shaking her head. “That girl… I swear Mr. Volkov, the youth of today have no idea how lucky they are that the only worries they have are boy troubles.”

I chuckle lightly, “That’s true. Though I think Kimberly has her head screwed on more than that.”

She nods approvingly, “You’re right there, son. I shouldn’t be too hard on Amelia, she’s been a good friend to Kimmy. Those girls used to be inseparable before Amelia moved away.”

Emma and I continue to chat amicably. Before long, Kim and her friend return and it’s time for Emma to leave. The women bid each other farewell and, much to my discomfort, Amelia hugs me goodbye, pressing her ample bosom against mychest. The only small pleasure I get is watching the expression of jealous annoyance on Kim’s face.

With Amelia gone, we head to the care home with Emma. I’m pleased that both Kim and Emma seem impressed by the place, admiring the well-kept grounds and Emma’s spacious bedroom. Kim seems reluctant to leave, but Emma quickly settles in, striking up a friendship with another resident, which seems to ease Kim’s concerns. After the tour, I can tell that Emma is growing tired, her grip on reality starts to slip and I suggest to Kim that it’s time for us to leave.

“You’re right. Grammy, we have to go now. I’ll be back real soon though, I promise.”

“Now, don’t you go worrying about me, I’ll be just fine. You go enjoy yourself,” she says to Kim. “Take good care of my precious girl now won’t you, Mr. Volkov,” she directs at me.

“I will, it was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Walsh.”

Kim reluctantly leaves, hugging her grandmother once more.

On the drive home, Kim is quiet and subdued. I don’t push her to talk, giving her space to reflect. After a while, she speaks.

“Thank you, for taking me, for well… everything,” she says softly.

“You’re welcome. I liked your grandmother very much, she’s quite the character,” I reply, glancing over at her before focusing my attention back on the road.

She lets out a small chuckle, “That she is. You’re lucky you met her on a good day. She was almost like the woman she used to be before her diagnosis. Lately, the good days are getting few and far between.”

“It must be hard for you, taking care of her alone,” I state, still focused on the road, sensing she will open up more if I’m not looking at her.

“I’m not completely alone. Abigail, our neighbor who’s a retired nurse, helps out a lot. I don’t know what I’d do without her. To start with my brother Noah helped out too, until he left…” Kim replies modestly, downplaying how difficult things must be.

“Was it just the three of you—you, your grandmother, and your brother—growing up?” I ask, curious to know more about her.

“Yes. My parents died in a car accident when I was four, so we moved to Charleston to live with Gran. I never met my grandfather, he died before I was born,” she replies.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say. I know full well how hard it is to lose family.

“Thank you. It’s okay though, I don’t remember much about them at all to be honest. I was too young. It was harder for Noah, he was nine when they died. He acted out a lot…” she explains.

I nod, thoughtfully. “A boy needs his father growing up, or a male role model at least.”

“What’s your family like? Are you close?” she asks curiously.

I normally avoid talking much about my family, but for some reason, I don’t deflect or avoid answering. “For the most part. I already told you about my brother, David. We’re close. I don’t speak to my sister, she got married and moved to England not long after our parents died. Other than that, there’s just my uncle. He still lives in Russia but we’re in contact.”

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