Page 26 of Russian Daddy

“Have you been here before?”

“A time or two.”

We enter the restaurant and a man in a tuxedo rushes toward us.

“Torin, I saw your reservation and couldn’t believe it. How long has it been?” He beams, shaking Torin’s hand.

“It’s been a while, Jacob. I trust you have our table ready?”

“Of course, come this way.” The man leads us into the dining room ahead of at least twenty other people who are waiting to be seated.

It seems like someone nods and smiles at Torin from every table we pass. Some of them look familiar, but it’s difficult to place them in this environment. I’ve probably seen them fighting cyborgs or saving damsels from burning buildings in the movies.

“Do you know all of these people?” I ask, shocked by the circle Torin has kept secret from me.

“Know them? Not really. They know of me and I know of them.”

“Why do they know you?”

“Do you think famous people don’t teeter on the edge of legality from time to time? Hell, they love to drink and gamble, and they have the finances to do it.”

“And that’s how they know you?”

“No. Again, they don’t know me. They know of me. Word spreads and people find out about the business I’m in. Why? Does it bother you?”

“No, it’s just that I’ve never met an actual celebrity before.” It does make me wonder how I stack up to the fashion models watching him from the bar.

“We’re here for a nice, romantic dinner, and I don’t want to think about anyone but you. You’re the most beautiful girl in this room or any other room, and those people are probably wondering what agency you model for or what movie you’re about to star in.”

“Ha, thank you but I doubt it.”

He takes my hand and stares into my eyes. “Don’t ever doubt it, baby girl. You’re the hottest girl in the world.”

As we eat our dinner and the wine flows, I start to feel more comfortable by his side. The idea of supermodels and actresses wanting to be with him doesn’t bother me when I see the way he looks at me. We’re connected in a way that those people will never understand. Heck, sometimes I don’t understand it either.

“My mother will never let us hear the end of it if we don’t go see that tree,” he says.

“Don’t you want to go see it?”

“I do. We just need to make one stop on the way.”

The limo rolls away from the curb and toward a side of the city I’ve never been to before. It’s the exclusive neighborhood where the millionaires live. My parents are well off, but even they could never afford to live in a place like this, which makes me wonder what we’re doing here.

The limo rolls to a stop in front of a towering white stone building.

“We just need a few minutes, Dimitri,” Torin tells the driver.

“You know him?” I ask as he helps me out of the car.

“Dimitri? Of course, I know him. Why wouldn’t I know my own driver?”

“Your driver? I thought you rented a limo for the night!”

“No, baby girl. Dimitri drives me all over the city when I’m working. He works for me.”

My head swims as I try to consider Torin Tasios being chauffeured around all day.

“Is that why you don’t have a car?”

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