Page 67 of Night So Silent
“I was just discussing this with Julia,” Astrid says. “Colson and Alex could run this place in their sleep. And if Julia is here, too, then Volk would be in good hands while you’re busy at the Avery sites. I told her I wanted to go with you. It would be the perfect opportunity to take on more responsibility, and you’llneedsomeone with you to keep everything in order.”
I look up at her with intrigue. “It sounds like you already have a plan.”
Astrid shifts her stance and plants one hand on her sequined hip. “Well, obviously, I already know the armor business inside and out. Julia seemed pretty excited about the idea. Plus, it’s my dad,” Astrid adds with a coy smile. “And I may or may not have influenced his decision.”
She’s not wrong. Roles are multi-faceted at Volk and the key to efficiency is utilizing everyone’s talents and distributing responsibilities in an effective manner. However, our rapid growth also means that Julia is overworked and it’s been my intention to hire more support, which must be expedited now.
“It’s not a bad idea,” I concede. “There can be no interruptions with operations here. And Julia will make sure of that.”
“My dad is already making arrangements starting on January one,” Astrid continues. “He wants contracts signed and people on site. You know how he is. Things happen fast, and on his schedule.”
“January one?” I ponder. “He’s not wasting any time, is he?”
I’m supposed to be on a plane that day, en route to a different location of the tropical variety, which presents a new dilemma.
“It’s taken care of,” Astrid assures me. “I’ve already been coordinating with the Avery teams. If we plan it just right, we can have everything set up within three months. I mean, seriously,” she smiles, “he already had me schedule to have his homes prepared and ready for us in Stuttgart, Seoul, and Dubai. And you never know,” she shrugs, “with the cities and the food and the cars he keeps over there, you might enjoy yourself and want to stay longer. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh?” I reply with a hint of amusement. “That’s very generous of him.”
“Honestly, I think he’s trying to get me to move there so he has someone to keep an eye on the German site. That’s his crown jewel, you know. He doesn’t trust many people outside of family—except for maybe you. But he’s also been giving me a hard time about my dating life and hinting around about grandchildren whenever I see him, so maybe he has ulterior motives for being so accommodating.”
That’s a very peculiar thing to say at this moment. And it doesn’t go unnoticed, evident by the way Barrera’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and the way Brett looks like she just had a contraction right at the table.
“You sound very optimistic about this arrangement.”
“Maybe because Iknowyou, Sergei,” Astrid replies with a roll of her eyes. “I know what you like and what you ultimately want. That’s why things run so smoothly here. You deserve the status and rewards.” In an instant, I catch her eyes dart past my shoulder. “And what you’ll have there easily beats anything back here.”
Just then, I feel Astrid’s fingertips on my skin, no longer on the back of my chair as they brush across the base of my neck.Then her nails slip below my collar, teasing what’s sure to come. Any other man might be caught by surprise, but not me. Instead, I remain still, considering the possibilities, all of which point to the most obvious decision.
There are others at Volk who live and breathe this industry and are more than qualified to take on this kind of daunting task if I were to ask it of them. But Astrid is right, I am the only one here with the knowledge and attentiveness it requires. Much like her level of attentiveness to me, which makes her a valuable asset in more ways than one.
Her initiative doesn’t go unnoticed. Not by Barrera, whose cameras watch her go in and out of my office more than anyone else, and not by Lutz, who can time her entry into my office every morning at exactly 9:00, and especially not by me. Their commentary used to be harmless banter. But the truth is that there’s a reason that Astrid will do whatever I say, no matter what the cost.
My priorities, however, could never be that twisted and misaligned. And, unfortunately, this shows how disappointingly poor Astrid’s judgement is, or she never would have made such a grave mistake just now.
All the air seems to leave the vicinity and the women immediately bristle at the same time. As soon as I see the muscles in Barrett’s neck tense and her long lashes open slightly wider, I move my hand to her lap, grasping her leg gently but firmly. Then I turn to Astrid, meeting her eyes brimming with devotion.
“What part of your duties allows you to disrespect my wife?”
Everyone stills and a chill befalls the table. My eyes slowly shift to Astrid’s arm before returning a very precise look of warning. She gingerly but quickly retracts her hand from my neck while I hold her startled eyes.
“You go where I say you go.” My tone leaves no room for misunderstanding. “You work onmyschedule, and you do what Iallowyou to do when Isayyou can do it. And the only woman I allow at home with me—” I pause, letting my words sink in, “is mywife. If your father has a problem with my methods, then he can address it with me personally.”
I am not delusional; attractions are normal. There’s nothing inherently wrong with appreciating the physical qualities of another human being. But acting on those thoughts and putting your hands on your employer in such a way is wholly unacceptable.
Astrid recovers quickly with a light-hearted laugh. “Sergei, no, that’s not what I—”
“You will apologize to Barrett now,” I cut her off before she can deflect further.
Astrid hesitates, trying to decide the best course of action, but she soon realizes it’s best not to argue. She takes a deep breath and turns to Barrett with a polite smile.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly, then purses her lips and looks away.
“What are you sorry for?” I ask.
Astrid’s eyes dart to me. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. From across the table, Brett casts an aloof glance that borders on contempt while Lutz’s mouth curls with satisfaction at the tension hanging over the group.
“What are you sorry for?” I ask again.
