Page 121 of Heartfelt Pain
“I don’t suppose you’ll make yourself useful and go get me some.”
“I am a bodyguard,” he says. “Not your personal shopper.”
Jane wanders closer and I sit up. She picks someone’s drink up and doesn’t meet my eye as she goes to refill it.
Trevino says nothing, but the bodyguard sees everything. He’s sat in the booth next to me most of the week like he knows I need backup. Isolde hasn’t been around or otherwise, I’d use her to hide behind too.
I’m searching through my bag again, like a pack of cigarettes will magically appear when I notice Trevino stilling.
Dimitri juts his chin toward Trevino. “Now we know why you always wore the mask.”
“Now we know where her boyfriend’s shitty jokes come from,” he replies.
“So that’s true?” Dimitri tugs at his flat cap. “You and Roman, huh?”
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I’m just checking in. Where’s that British triggerman?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He places a hand on his heart. “I’m not the one who fucked with you all those years ago. I respected Aunt Macy too much for that.”
Roma said as much the other day when he explained his side of things. How his Uncle Dima had disagreed with his brother. Not hard enough, though.
“You’re not the only one to do this, you know.”
He cocks his head to the side, a curious dog.
“Snoop.”
He appears affronted. “What, me?”
Everyone wants to know what’s going on. First I fielded phone calls. Are the rumors true? Then it became gossip. Who’d already offered to buy the business? Who in the future would people be working with?
“You know,” Dimitri says, leaning his elbows on the table, “you got a good thing going here.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Why leave it? From what I’ve heard Roma’s leaving the family business, starting his own shop.”
The words are neutral but I doubt Lev is feeling that way. Roma won’t say it, but he’s already afraid he’s upset his dad. He might not like working for his dad, but he doesn’t want to disappoint him.
I personally think Lev can get over it, but then again he’s not asking my opinion anytime soon.
“If this is what it’s about,” Dimitri says, “Roma’s already said he’ll walk away.”
The irony is strong. Five years ago they wanted Roma to turn me into a lovesick girl, who’d run off with a shattered heart. These days, it’s Roma they’d rather step aside so they can continue to do business with me.
I know why. Not because they like me, but because everyone else does. If they’re seen as the reason I truly run off this time they’ll face blowback from the wider criminal elite.
“People appreciate predictability,” he says, fingers tapping the table. “This place—and you—offer stability to a city otherwise known for its. . .”
“Criminal chaos,” I supply.
His lip quirks up. Lev’s brother never sneered at me. Even in those early days. He shadows his brother but he’s like Isolde. Keeping an ear to the ground, watching and strategizing. His sweatsuit isn’t fashionable but he’s no less intelligent for wearing it.
I’ve never underestimated him. And he’s done the same with me.
