Page 4 of Triplet Babies
I shower off the day’s grime and make myself a simple dinner of pasta and vegetables. Nina is at a catering gig tonight, so I won’t see her before I go to bed. I eat while I try to plan for tomorrow’s meeting without knowing what kind of meeting it will be. Am I being fired for flooding the deck? Promoted to different duties? Transferred to work directly for the main house instead of the grounds?
The uncertainty gnaws at me as I try to fall asleep that night. I’ve been living paycheck to paycheck for too long, and this job is supposed to be my chance to build some stability. The pay is better than anything else I’ve been able to find, and the work itself isn’t difficult. I can’t afford to lose it over one flooded pool deck.
More than the practical concerns, I can’t stop thinking about the man who caught me, and the way he looked at me, like he was memorizing my face. I tremble even now remembering theauthority in his voice when he gave me orders, and the careful distance he maintained even while helping me.
I replay the moment when his hands steadied my waist, and my skin warms at the memory. There had been something electric in that brief contact that made me acutely aware of him as a man rather than just an employer or a stranger, which is exactly the kind of thinking that gets people like me into trouble with people like him.
I force myself to focus on practical matters. I’m just the hired help, and the hired help doesn’t get to have romantic thoughts about the boss. I finally drift off to sleep around midnight, dreaming of flooded pool decks and designer heels and a man with storm-colored eyes, who catches me when I fall but never lets me see his face clearly.
When my alarm goes off at six-thirty, I wake with the strange certainty that today will change everything. I tell myself it’s just nerves and normal anxiety that comes with uncertainty about work and money and the future, but as I get dressed and prepare to return to the estate, I worry I’m walking into something much bigger than a simple gardening job.
Something that might be dangerous.
Something that might be exactly what I’ve been running from.
Or maybe, something I’ve been running toward all along.
2
Yarik
The lunch meeting with the Nikitins starts exactly how I expected it would, with Katya’s father arriving twenty minutes late and offering no apology. Leonid Nikitin walks into my dining room like he owns it, surveying the space like he’s looking for weaknesses to exploit.
He nods once in my direction before taking the seat across from me without waiting to be invited. “I trust you’re prepared to discuss the terms we outlined.”
I pour myself more coffee, not offering him any. Small power plays matter in relationships like ours, and I won’t pretend this is a social visit. “I’m prepared to listen.”
Katya follows her father into the room a moment later, her steps smooth and her body graceful. I’m sure she’s been trained since childhood to use her beauty as a weapon. She’s wearing a cream-colored dress, and her smile is painted on in such a way that onlysuggestswarmth. It doesn’t really give any.
She leans down to press a light kiss against my cheek, and I catch the scent of her expensive perfume. It’s strong and too sweet, and it makes me want to step away from her immediately. “Good afternoon, darling.”
I don’t move. Instead, I let her perform her little show of affection while studying her father’s reaction. Leonid watches us with approval, clearly pleased his daughter is playing her part so well. I keep my voice neutral and professional. “Katya. You look well.”
She settles into the chair beside me, close enough that her knee brushes against mine under the table. “Thank you. I’ve been looking forward to this meeting all week.”
The lie rolls off her tongue so smoothly that I almost admire the skill involved. Katya doesn’t look forward to anything that doesn’t directly benefit her ambitions, and this lunch is pure business disguised as family planning.
My own father would be here if he were still alive, but I’ve been handling the Barinov interests alone for well over a decade now. Sometimes, I miss having someone to share the burden with but mostly, I prefer the control that comes with making decisions without consultation.
Leonid pulls a leather portfolio from his briefcase and spreads several documents across the table. “Shall we begin? I’ve prepared the preliminary agreements for our new venture.”
The “new venture” is a luxury import firm that will serve as a front for moving products that fall into legal gray areas. We’ll focus mostly on items like art, jewelry, and rare books that can cross borders without attracting too much attention if the paperwork is handled correctly.
I review the contracts while Katya and her father wait in silence. The terms are reasonable on the surface, but there are subtle clauses buried in the legal language that would give the Nikitins more control than we originally discussed. I tap one section with my pen. “These warehouse arrangements aren’t what we agreed on. You’re proposing to station six of your men at the facility permanently.”
Leonid’s tone suggests this should be obvious. “For security purposes. We’re talking about valuable merchandise, Yarik. It needs proper protection.”
“My security is more than adequate.”
Katya’s voice carries just a hint of condescension. “I’m sure it is, but this venture represents a significant investment for both our families. Surely you understand our desire to protect that investment?”
I look at her directly for the first time since she sat down. Her blue eyes are cold despite her warm smile, and there’s clear scheming behind every expression she makes.
I set aside the contracts and lean back in my chair. “What I understand is you want to place surveillance inside my operation. That wasn’t part of our original discussion.”
Leonid spreads his hands in a gesture that’s meant to appear reasonable. “Surveillance is such an ugly word. We prefer to think of it as ensuring mutual accountability.”
“Call it whatever you want. The answer is no.”
