Page 15 of Nikolai Petrov

“Ah, yes. Don’t worry, it doesn’t need to be permanent. Just a chance for my friend—” He gestures toward me.

Why does it make my teeth grit when he calls me just ‘friend’?

“—to get back on her feet.” His eyes are soft when he looks at me.

A direct contradiction to hers.

“How long?” Celeste’s words are curt as she looks me up and down and taps her darkly manicured fingernails on the table.

I want to shrink into a ball under her scrutiny.

“As long as she wishes.” He doesn’t move as he watches her.

I can see the tension in his jaw, the tightness across his shoulders. He looks like a leopard ready to leap.

The low cut dark dress over her small chest heaves with a sigh. “Fine. I have to do inventory anyways. I hope you can count.” With a final roll of her eyes, she leans over the table towards me. “Show up tomorrow at eight. Don’t be late. I’m not your mother and am not responsible for you outside of work.”

Turning on her high heel, they click against the marbled floor as she walks briskly away.

Nikolai relaxes and sits back into the leather embrace of the high backed seat. A smile teases the corner of his mustache. “That went well.”

It’s taken me a couple of weeks, but I finally made Celeste smile.

I thought her face was going to break.

She let me graduate up to bussing tables, so I wasn’t trapped in the basement anymore counting bottles.

“Nancy?” Celeste calls me by the name I gave her. I’m supposed to be in hiding.

“I need a clean up on table twenty-two.” Her tone is lighter than it used to be. I’ve been trying to do the best that I can and must be slowly winning her over.

“Yes, ma’am.” Grabbing the dish tub and a clean rag, I dodge one of the servers on the way to the far wall.

I’ve barely started stacking the plates when a deep voice from the other booth breaks my concentration.

“You’re very beautiful. It’s a shame you’re cleaning tables.” There’s a subtle accent to the words, not unlike how Nikolai sounds.

Glancing to the adjoining seats, two men dressed in dark suits are watching me. It’s the younger one who speaks.

His blonde spiked hair doesn’t move as he nods his head with a polished smile. “You should be a model. Have you considered it?” He gestures with his drink. “Or do you enjoy wiping up after pigs like us?” A silver gleam on his tooth catches my eye hidden in his wide grin.

The dark haired companion turns his phone to the talkative one and says something too quietly for me to hear.

“No. I haven’t. Thank you.” I can feel heat work up my cheeks, but turn back to the used cutlery still scattered over the table. I’m starting to get used to random comments from customers, but the flattering ones are still hard to accept.

“It’s a shame. You would look amazing walking down the aisle, er, runway.” His chuckle is aimed at his partner who laughs as if they’re sharing some sort of inside joke. “That fiery hair can light up a room.”

I think my face is on fire. The attention makes me uncomfortable. Hurrying, I swipe the table and grab the tub of dirty dishes.

When I turn to leave, he has his cell raised in my direction and I hear the click of the photograph sound. “To remember you.” He gives me a wink and turns back to his companion.

That was weird.

I’m not sure how I feel about some random guy taking my picture, but I soon forget about it in the hustle of the dinner rush.

As my shift comes to a close, Celeste stops me just outside the kitchen by placing her hand on my arm. “I just wanted to tell you, Nancy, you’re doing better than I thought you would. Would you be interested in trying out as a server next week? Better pay and you’d get tips.”

“Oh, wow. Yes, that would be amazing. I don’t know all of the menu and stuff though. Or the right words to use.”

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