Chapter Text
September 24th
To Anya’s defense, Maria could’ve properly warned her.
Maybe then that could’ve prepared her for what she would encounter that morning. Anya had been overseas to meet with a potential client for a few weeks, so she had apparently missed a few events that had happened at home and at Papa’s company. Maria, head of public relations, had a lot to inquire about Anya’s trip, in spite of Anya’s curiosity of what was going on on the home front.
“Did you meet anyone?” Maria’s voice snipped through the phone.
Anya stepped out of the taxi. “If you mean my new client, yes I did.”
“You know what I mean, Nastya.”
Anya laughed. “You’ll just have to go to Barcelona yourself if you’d like to see any new men.” She waved hello to the security officer at front reception inside the lobby of the bustling office building. As much as she enjoyed her travels to Europe, she loved the hustle and bustle of home in New York. Sometimes she wondered if getting a job away from home was a good idea. The rest of her family worked here— Maria in PR, Olga in human resources, Tatiana in marketing, Alexei in sales, Papa as the head executive for over thirty years now. Even Mama worked in management every once in a while. It wasn’t technically nepotism, since everyone earned their degrees and moved their way up the corporate ladder. But Anya knew how it appeared to outsiders. And Anya knew, deep down, even though it was safe and paid well, the corporate lifestyle wasn’t for her.
“You’re so boring,” Maria sighed. “But anyway. You’re stopping by, though, right?”
“Yeah. I’m bringing Papa breakfast, you know how he gets when he’s excited about an idea.” Anya swiped her ID before entering. She wasn’t an employee in the building, but she was still granted an access card, since she visited so frequently. “I just want to make sure he eats. And then I’ll stop by to say hello.”
“Good.” That satisfied her sister. “Oh, did you hear? Papa finally hired a new assistant.”
“Oh, that’s good! Hopefully this one lasts longer…” The previous one was gone within a month. She was endearing, but not quick enough to keep up with the fast-paced workflow of Papa’s business and demands of the day, according to his recount of the story at the dinner table. Hopefully he would grow less picky because… he needed help, as little as he liked to admit it.
“I don’t know. He seems like a moron, if you ask me.”
“Really?”
“He had to ask how to use his desk phone. Like, the man had never seen a landline with more than nine buttons before.”
That made Anya laugh. She pressed the button on the elevator, taking her to the 8th floor. “Maybe he’s just never had a desk job.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if Papa or the rest of the office will have the patience.”
“Play nice, Mashka,” Anya chided mockingly as she stepped off the elevator, pressing her way through the marketing department. “You don’t have to like the man to wish him well.”
“No, but don’t get comfortable.”
She made it to reception, stopping there only because the last time she barged into her father’s office without prior announcement he had been in the middle of a prickly meeting. So she just absent-mindedly tapped the top of the desk and glanced back at the door, where Marfa from marketing was waving hello, and she tried to finish her conversation with her sister. “I won’t.”
“Hello! May I help you, miss?”
The voice came from behind the desk and alerted her to the new receptionist. A smooth, rich voice. One that belonged to a smiling young man, with a chiseled jaw and warm eyes and thick eyebrows tilted up at her. Shoulders too big for his shirt. Hands too big for his keyboard and mouse. He had his hair slicked back, but some locks fell down over his eyes, begging to be touched.
Maria was still talking through the phone, but Anya didn’t realize she’d lowered it from her ear at first and she scrambled to mutter, “I’ll see you later?” before hanging up and stuffing her phone in her tote bag.
The man blinked and kept smiling politely. “May I help you?” he repeated.
She had to blink twice before remembering to talk. “Uh, yes, I’m—” what was she here for again? “I’m here to see my— Nicholas Romanov?” Her sentence came out as a question, for some reason.
He didn’t seem to notice. Quickly he clicked a couple times, focusing on his monitor, humming happily. “The nine o’clock?”
“Yes.”
The man grinned suddenly, and dimples popped out of his cheeks. Dear god. “Miss Romanov?”
For some reason she blushed. “Yes.”
“Anastasia?”
She stuck her chin out. “You may call me Anya, actually.”
“Anya,” he tested quietly, studying her. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair to glance in the window of Papa’s office. “It looks like he’s done with his meeting.” He stood from his desk chair and. Wow, he was tall. And broad. Even with a desk separating them she had to crane her neck. “I’ll go tell your father you’re here.”
He disappeared with another polite smile before she remembered to respond. “Thank you.”
Normally this was when she sat down in the waiting area, two cubicles away, but she just stood there, hands braced on the desk like an idiot. All she could think was why the hell Maria didn’t open their phone call with, Hey, by the way, the new assistant is the hottest man you’ll ever see, just a head’s up.
And then he was back with those dimples and smiling lips and tall frame and she almost didn’t hear him. “Mr. Ro— your father will see you now. I’m sure you know the way to his office.”
She laughed. “I’m sure I do,” she blurted.
God. A man had never made her so awkward before. Why were her cheeks so flushed?? Instead of waiting for him to respond she immediately stepped through the glass door of her father’s office.
From behind his desk, Nicholas Romanov looked rather stern, glasses perched on his nose and his brows furrowed, frowning lips unreadable underneath his neatly trimmed beard. But when he saw her come in he lit up, eyes softening and face spreading into a smile that radiated warmth and delight. “Little Malenkaya,” he said, removing his glasses to the desk and standing to wrap her in a warm hug. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Hello Papa,” she greeted. She loved getting to travel as often as she did for work, but she missed her father too much to stay away for very long. “I brought breakfast.”
“So I’m told! Come, sit.”
They settled into their breakfast she had picked up, thankfully everything in the bag was still warm. “I see you hired a new assistant while I was gone.” She couldn’t think of a more casual way of bringing up the subject.
“Ah, yes! You’ve met Dmitry, then.” Papa chuckled. “He has no prior experience in a corporate business, but he’s rather enthusiastic and he’s learning quickly.” He took another bite. “Now, tell me about your trip.”
Guess the topic was over, then. She told him about her first time in Spain, the success of her new client, the new publicity of her company. Even though she was the odd one out in their family, her father still tried his best to understand and stay up to date on her work life. She found it oddly comforting. Soon it was time for her to let him return to his duties and for her to stop by PR to say hello to Maria. Hopefully her cheeks weren’t as flushed as a schoolgirl’s.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t enough to escape the topic of the new addition to the office.
“Nastya,” Maria drawled, stirring her tea, “did you see Dmitry?”
Did she see him. Anya shrugged in the hopes of appearing unattached to the subject. “I did.”
Marfa, who was lingering in the cubicle, spoke up. “At least there’s finally something decent to look at around here. I’ve been so bored.” She leaned around the frame, where the view of Papa’s office was free from obstruction, a clear path for them to watch the man of the hour without shame.
“Tatya doesn’t think he’ll last a week,” Maria said with a laugh.
Anya rolled her eyes. Just because she was staring at him didn’t mean she wanted to talk about him.
“I never said that!” Tatiana protested. “I just don’t think he can keep up, that’s all.”
Anya was quiet as she picked through her leftover muffin and Marfa leaned over, noticing her preoccupation. “He’s pretty hot, isn’t he?” Marfa whispered conspiratorially.
“He’s— I don’t know.” He was hot. He was the hottest man Anya had ever seen. And she’d just flown from Barcelona, which was apparently flooded with attractive men Maria wanted her to bring home. “He’s not really my type.”
“Oh come on. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t take him home if you found him at a club.”
“When would I ever be at a club?”
“In the theoretical scenario in my head.”
Anya sighed. “This conversation is entirely inappropriate.” The last time one of them got involved with one of Papa’s employees was when Olga went out with his marketing advisor, and that was… messy. A lawyer had to intercede. From then on, the family agreed to avoid any messy relationships with any of the workmen.
“But you can’t deny he’s nice to look at, at least.”
God. That was an understatement. Right on cue, Dmitry stretched his arms over his head, sinewy forearms peeking from his shirt sleeve, and he ran a hand through his hair. He took a sip from a mug and her eyes trailed down to watch his throat bob while he swallowed. Anya shrugged like she had no opinion. Like her throat wasn’t dry, like she wasn’t ogling him like he walked right out of a perfume ad.
Tatiana scoffed. “He’s too much of an idiot to be attractive.”
“That’s what makes him attractive!” Marfa hissed. “Look at him. He can’t hurt us. He would do my bidding.”
“He’s just sitting there.”
That was the mystery. Sure, he wasn’t doing anything inherently sexy, but… he was. He answered the phone and smiled his way through the greeting as if someone were standing in front of him, and he jotted something down on a pad. It was riveting to watch.
Sure, there had been a handful of young businessmen in the office that were somewhat nice to look at. But they only talked of their fraternity connections, lacrosse games, and latest stock market conquests. They were as dry as they were creepy. Dmitry could be a creep as far as she knew, but he didn’t seem like it at all. And it didn’t seem like he’d ever experienced the life of a corporate, so he wasn’t tainted by the disgusting spoils of the eligible men she was always surrounded by. Looking at him now… she felt an overwhelming desire to learn everything about him.
With that thought she abruptly stood from her spot on the desk. Pump the breaks. She said goodbye to her sisters and to the other ladies of the office, and rounded the cubicle towards the doors, ready to move on. On her way out Dmitry offered a dashing smile that made her blush a little.
Okay. When facing a problem, Anya never ran from it without a fight. So the only way out of this situation was through it, with her most trusted weapon: the power of denial.
So, long story short, Anya absolutely did not have a schoolyard crush on her father’s new assistant… No matter how hot he was.
October 22nd
Dmitry’s to-do list had grown terribly long.
Pick up dry cleaning, lunch, morning and midday coffee. Drop off prescriptions. Collect Nicholas’s mail. Learn how a fax machine worked. Read the manual for his desk phone again. Return orders. Buy a two-hundred dollar gift to donate to an auction. And, as of now, answer the phone.
“Hello— Uh, Romanov Incorporated, Nicholas Romanov’s office. How can I help you?”
The caller didn’t catch his slip into casual greetings. They were another design agency partnering with the office’s marketing team and needed to schedule yet another meeting… did the 21st work? Okay. He would put them on the calendar for 8am. Thank you for calling.
Even with the calendar pulled up during his entire shift, he was still petrified there was a hidden meeting he missed and would accidentally double book his employer. So far he hadn't messed up, though. He had only been working here a month, but he still felt like he had more to learn than he bargained for. Vlad had mentioned the position to him after years of a long string of dead-end jobs, and, frankly, Dmitry wasn’t too proud to say he didn’t enjoy the menial and mindless tasks of scanning documents and making spreadsheets on Excel. It was nice to have a salary and health insurance for once. And, hopefully, the job would bring some good connections for something a little more prestigious.
But… god. The men in the office were complete assholes. Dmitry didn’t mind Nicholas Romanov so much, even though his father would have more than a few words about the socialite CEO. But Dmitry couldn’t figure out how he hired the worst men in New York. If he had to hear one more story about how lame the latest cocktail party was or a complaint about the janitor being too slow, he was going to punch someone.
When he mentioned it almost wasn’t worth the effort to Vlad, his friend didn’t share his sympathies. “You’d be insane to quit now, son.”
“But everyone is terrible to each other!” Dmitry scoffed. “I still don’t even know what this company does—”
“Since when does that matter!” Vlad threw his hands up in the air. “It’s where the money is!” Vlad pointed a finger to his chest. “Lily and I pulled a lot of strings to get you in the door here, can you at least wait until you get some good connections before throwing in the towel? You’re the one who wanted to work with people like this, remember?”
Dmitry sighed. This job wasn’t the end, he reminded himself. Soon he would learn the ins and outs of this business and work his way up the ladder, he just had to play the long con.
He had to remind himself this again as he sat at his desk, praying the caffeine he was guzzling would kick in soon.
“Dmitry?” Nicholas came out of his adjacent office with a gentle tap on the door, “could you come in here for a moment?”
He stood from his desk immediately and snagged his legal pad and pen. He would have to go to Staples again soon after his paycheck arrived to look at those fancy leather binders. Because… why not?
“Alright,” Nicholas said, rounding his desk to sit down. “Do I have any messages today?”
“Gretta from the design agency called again,” Dmitry answered quickly, flipping through a stack of sticky notes. “They have some thumbnails to share with the marketing team that they need you to sign off on later this week. And another client called and would like to meet with you this afternoon before the conference with your executives at four, and…” he landed on the last sticky note, laying the pile gently on the glass desk, “you said you had a lunch meeting today?”
“I do!” Nicholas smiled. The man looked stern and severe most of the time, but when he smiled, the fatherly warmth shined through. “I wouldn’t call it a meeting, though. But I’m leaving within the hour, so if you could…” he leaned a little closer, inviting Dmitry to lean down as well, “make sure the stragglers stay on task while I’m gone, that would be great.”
Dmitry raised his eyebrows. Nicholas was usually never this candid when it came to the productivity of his employees. “Okay.”
“Good man!” Nicholas sat back, silently dismissing him. “And, of course, please be present during the conference meeting today.”
“Will do,” Dmitry called on his way out.
Nicholas was in the middle of the first meeting of the day when she arrived.
“You’re early,” he said plainly, unable to think of anything less obvious to say, unable to look away. He didn’t know how it happened, but she managed to make his throat close up every time he saw her.
“I am,” Anya said, just as bluntly. She reached into her purse to freshen up her lipstick and his mouth dried.
“I’m assuming you’re the lunch meeting today?”
“I am,” she said again, this time with a smile to which he couldn’t help but return. “You’re learning.”
He laughed. “I am.”
Her eyes were impossibly blue. It was a family trait, he’d noticed, but on her they looked less cold and chilling, somehow warm and inviting. Whatever she was going to say was cut off by one of the employees marching up past his desk.
“Oh, um,” Dmitry started, and Sergei turned. He was one of the salesmen of the office and Dmitry didn’t care for him one bit. “Can I help you?”
“I need to talk to him.” Sergei nodded to Nicholas’s office and tried to push his way through but Dmitry stopped him with the power of bureaucracy.
“He’s in a meeting now, actually,” he said, smiling politely. “You’re welcome to schedule a complaint later in the week. He has an opening on… let’s see… Friday?”
Sergei looked like the vein in his forehead was gonna pop and Dmitry tried not to grin in satisfaction. “Nevermind.” With that he stormed off and the moment was over.
“Wow,” Dmitry muttered to himself. His eyes found Anya, who had her eyebrows raised in amusement, biting back a laugh, and that made him combust. “Sergei doesn’t seem to like me at all.”
“Don’t take it personally,” she said. “He doesn’t like anyone. Papa only keeps him around because of his sales record.”
“Hmm.” Dmitry tapped a pen on his desk. “He doesn’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “This is nothing compared to last spring,” Anya said. “One guy threatened to sue over having to sell his yacht.”
“Geez.” Dmitry shook his head. “If anything, this job is entertaining me with a… a soap opera about rich men hating each other.” Then he remembered the wealth of her family and he rushed to correct himself. “No offense.”
“No, you’re right. You wouldn’t believe how many galas and conferences I’ve been to. It’s…” she raised an eyebrow, “they’re a lot more fun when you can make fun of these pathetic men.”
Dmitry’s smile widened. “Thanks for the tip. Got any other advice for working amongst the social elite?”
She shrugged, leaning against the desk. “Make good friends.”
“Like who?”
“Well,” she nodded back towards sales, “Marfa is a good one. Maria also works in PR, I think you’d like her. Not everyone is so bad.”
He wasn’t sure about Marfa. From their few interactions she looked like she wanted to devour him in a frightening way. But he trusted Anya, who somehow appeared cold and friendly all in one sentence. “You seem to be alright, at least.”
Her eyebrows raised, pink flooding her cheeks. Before she could respond a voice called out to her in greeting and she blinked away, smiling at her father. Nicholas placed a sheet of paper on his desk. “Here’s a list of items for you to pick up for me when you have time, if you don’t mind.”
Dmitry pulled his eyes away from Anya to Nicholas, accepting the crisp sheet. “No problem.”
And the other sisters of the office emerged as they walked towards the elevators. Dmitry sighed as he looked over the list, noting a bottle of wine that was well over $200. He would have to run his errands earlier than he expected today.
He held the receiver of the desk phone to his ear to listen to any messages he may have missed. He hadn’t worked here for very long, but he was already deciding he would never leave anything on the answering machine unopened. He glanced up, catching Anya’s blue eyes before they turned the corner, and he smiled to himself. Maybe this job wasn’t so bad.
Maybe he was good at it.
November 17th
“I have to cancel our lunch today,” Anya said into the phone, tripping on her way out the door of her apartment. “I think I’ve double booked myself.”
“That’s all right.” Papa said. He sounded like he was smiling. “You’re quite busy lately.”
“Unfortunately.” Things at work had picked up in the last week, she used to be able to take an afternoon or a morning for her family time, but recently she’d been booked solid from the morning until dinner.
“Perhaps I can spare Dmitry for the afternoon,” Papa suggested.
Anya paled and almost dropped her bag. “Um— no, that won’t be necessary—”
“Nonsense!” Papa had already moved on with his agenda. “I can loan you my assistant for a bit. All I have today is a few meetings. An extra hand will be more beneficial than you expect, I assure you.”
Anya bit her tongue. Her stubbornness had unfortunately come from her father, and when she had to face it sometimes, she realized what a struggle it was to deal with such hard personalities. There was no changing his mind. Besides, he meant well, even if he wasn’t aware of how awkward he would make this for everyone involved. “Okay.”
“Excellent! I’ll send him with my car so you won’t have to wait for a cab.”
She sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Dmitry. The problem was… quite the opposite. But so far she’d been able to compartmentalize him in her mind. Dmitry was only a “Papa’s work” face, one she would only encounter in the sterile office building ten stories over the city. Once she left she wouldn’t have to worry about him for the rest of her day.
Until today, apparently.
No matter. She wasn’t an idiot, this wouldn’t be a problem.
Her walk to her office was so full of phone calls she nearly forgot the awkwardness this day would undoubtedly entail. Somehow Papa’s driver had beaten her here, she could see the car next to the sidewalk. But instead of the driver she was expecting, Dmitry climbed out of the driver’s seat, smiling in his obnoxiously polite and stupid way, and her resolve crumbled down to her toes. Oh boy.
“Hello,” he greeted, rounding the front of the car to fall into step next to her on her way inside, seemingly unaware of how he knocked her off her feet. “Your father told me to meet you here.” In his other hand he held a thermos of coffee, which she graciously accepted with cold fingers.
“You’re early,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say.
“I like to be punctual,” he smiled with a shrug. They were inside now, the warm air making her eyes heavy, dodging frantic writers and the occasional intern. Everyone greeted Anya as they passed without a second glance at the unfamiliar face trailing slightly behind her. “What’s on the agenda, then?”
She pursed her lips. “I have meetings all over town. Unfortunately I can’t be in two places at once.” They made it to her office and she dropped her tote bag onto her chair to start unloading her laptop and paperwork. Papa’s office was sleek and traditional at once, but this place was chaotic from door to door. The walls were covered in cork board and had thoughts and photos pinned everywhere, files were on top of desks instead of hidden away, potted plants were growing everywhere. There was an organic organization to the mess, and it felt cozy, lived-in. Anya had made her work her home.
Dmitry was studying the space and Anya couldn’t read his expression. Then two writers both tried to talk to her through the door frame at once—
“Did you get a chance to look at—”
“Hyperion is on line two, do you want me to transfer?”
Before Anya could even answer, Dmitry jumped to her aid. “Tell them she’ll call back. And she’ll let you know when she’s had a chance to look at that portfolio.”
Anya continued settling in, taking a breath of relief that Dmitry knew she needed some space first. He handled that magically, somehow. And they were alone.
“Take a seat anywhere,” she said. “Things are far from conventional around here.”
He didn’t say anything, only smiled, mostly to himself, and followed instructions while opening his little briefcase.
She wondered if he could tell she was at a loss. She was overwhelmed with how many messages on her phone she had from yesterday alone, and she didn’t even know how many calls she had to return today. She had to drive all over the city within a few hours. She was glad he was there to help, but she’d never experienced having an assistant before…
“Should we start by transferring your calls to me?”
He broke her train of thought, snapping her back into action. “Yeah— yes. That sounds good.”
They ignored all incoming calls and requests for the next twenty minutes while they set up. Dmitry managed to transfer her calls to his cell phone so he could lift that burden a little, and then he had her calendar pulled up so he knew where to fit these things in. There were a couple overlapping meetings that he managed to finagle away. Slowly she felt like she could breathe again while she prepared for what was next.
“It looks like your next meeting is in… Brooklyn?” Dmitry scrolled through the schedule.
“Yep.” She checked her watch. “I need to get going now if I’ll make it on time.”
“I can drive you, if you want.”
She paused gathering her laptop. “You would do that?”
He shrugged. “I get paid either way.”
For some reason that made her smile. “Well, let’s go, then.”
Someone called on their way out, but he was able to answer it with his ridiculous bluetooth headset. When they got to the car he was chatting with the caller, confidently driving them through the city traffic, not asking for directions. She wondered how he knew the city so well. He was much more relaxed than the last time she’d seen him. At the office he always looks at-ease, but there’s this looming question mark parked on his forehead, waiting for clarification or hoping someone will tell him what’s going on, it seemed like. But here he had his wrist draped over the steering wheel and was chatting with the caller like they’d been best buddies for years. For a brief moment she allowed herself to study his profile. He had a bump on the bridge of his nose, was it broken at one point? Or was it a family trait?
Finally, pressed the button on his earpiece, marking the end of the conversation. He glanced over at her and for some reason that made her blush. “That was Julia Simmons from the realtor’s office. She was just confirming a meeting time for next week.”
“Ah,” Anya nodded. “We’re trying to expand the office into a larger building, but it’s proving to be more of a nightmare than I have time for.”
He smiled and she swallowed watching his dimples crease in his cheeks. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a new client in Brooklyn. Let me plug in the address.”
“Nah, just tell me the building they’re located in.” When she gave him a skeptical look he laughed. “Look, if it’s in Brooklyn, I know where it is.”
Her eyebrows rose. “How do you know the area so well?”
“I grew up in Brooklyn.” He tossed a glance at her and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t live there anymore, but I still know it well enough.”
Oh. One bare bite of his past left her craving more. She sat back in her seat. “Lead the way, then.”
They made it to her meeting with several minutes to spare, and Dmitry remained present to take notes the whole time. Anya typically had trouble relinquishing control but… he was proving to be more helpful than she expected. After the deal was settled they had two more meetings to drive to within a tight schedule but they somehow made it through unscathed.
“What’s next?” she asked, only because he had today’s calendar pulled up.
Dmitry sighed and locked his phone. “I’m intervening for a mandatory lunch break.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry,” he grinned, “you’ve got an hour before you need to be back at the office. It’ll help you get through the rest of the day. Unless,” he rested his elbow on the console between them, “you Romanovs have something against nourishing your body.”
Right on cue her stomach gurgled. She’d forgotten to pack a lunch that morning, and instead of braving the fast food stomach ache she resigned herself to simply not eating until she got home. But Dmitry did have a point. Fine. “As long as it doesn’t take too long.”
“It won’t.”
“Did you have anywhere in mind?”
“There’s a great Italian place on this side of town,” he offered. “If you’re okay with family dining, instead of the fancy places your dad always orders from.”
Anya shrugged. This was a harmless suggestion, but her heart still leapt at the offer. Sharing a meal together. Time with Dmitry was starting to feel a little… forbidden? Like she was about to get into trouble, though she wasn’t sure if anything they were doing was inherently wrong. “That doesn’t sound too bad, actually.”
He grinned. God. What was she doing?
He was right. The staff addressed him by name, and he led them to a booth without even grabbing any menus. The red and white checkered table cloth was sticky to the touch. He ordered “the usual” and insisted she would enjoy it, then chatted with the waiter for a minute or two. And when the food finally arrived— plates of fettucini smothered in alfredo sauce— Anya understood why he would frequent a restaurant like this often enough to know everyone. It was so delicious she couldn’t think of anything to say until the angry hunger subsided a little after she was halfway through her meal.
“How did you know about this place?”
“Isn’t it good?” He laughed. “My father used to take me here after work, back when I was little.”
She set her fork down. “Where does he work?”
He swallowed, glancing between her and his plate. “He used to work at the docks. It was a long commute in the morning,” he tried, but his smile fell, as did his eyes. “He died when I was nineteen.”
“Oh, Dmitry…” Anya pursed her lips, fighting the urge to touch his hand across the table. “I’m sorry.”
Dmitry waved it off. “It’s fine, it was a long time ago.”
“But you still miss him.”
“Very much, yes.” He took another bite of pasta. “But for the longest time it was just the two of us. For the most part he set me up to work hard to better my circumstances and not live in the past.”
She smiled. Suddenly an image of Dmitry was clearing for her, crisping enough for her to understand him. Someone who always looked to the future. “Is that why you’re working for my father?”
“Yeah. I’m… Not entirely sure what I’m doing here, to be honest.” He stared at his glass. “I don’t know if I’m wasting everyone’s time, or if I’m the right person for this work… But… But I still hope it will lead to something my father would’ve wanted for me.”
“He is very well-connected, so you’re in the right spot.” Slowly the silences between them were less awkward, more friendly and warm.
His phone vibrated on the table. He’d politely laid it face-down and hadn’t touched it all afternoon, but this time he picked it up and sighed, locking it again and tossing it aside, yanking the earpiece from his head. Anya wondered if it was work-related at first but she didn’t think he would react so strongly if it was.
“What’s wrong?”
He sighed, shrugging off the troubled expression. “It’s nothing, really.” He laughed, and then after a quiet pause he said, “My mother contacted me recently.”
She took a sip of her water, sensing this wasn’t an easy subject for him. “Was that her messaging you?” He nodded. “How long has it been since you two have last spoken?”
“Oh god, maybe like… fifteen, twenty years?” He scratched the back of his head. “At least. She left when I was very young.” Even though what he just said was clearly heartbreaking, he laughed without smiling. “I guess she feels bad about it.”
Anya didn’t know what to say. She’d been blessed with loving parents, even if they were a little overbearing at times, so her heart broke for him. “What are you gonna say?”
“I don’t know yet. It would be easier to just ignore it…”
“But… you don’t want to?”
“I don’t know what I want.” He laughed again into his glass. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so melodramatic.”
“No, it’s okay.” She wanted to reach across the table and take his hand again, but that thought was quickly extinguished by what little common sense still gripped her subconscious, so she crossed her arms instead. “You could always see what she has to say?” He met her eyes again. At first she thought she overstepped a boundary, but he waited for her to continue. “You don’t have to, like, forgive her or anything. But… I don’t know. Maybe some closure would be good for you, at the very least.”
Surely he would scoff and lean back, surely he would never open up to her again. He didn’t even ask for advice but she gave it to him anyway. What was she doing?
Except he didn’t do any of those things. Instead he leaned forward, matching her posture. “Maybe you’re right.”
For some reason that made her smile. She reminded herself not to get too attached, but she couldn’t help it. “So, without a mother and a father, who raised you?”
“No one!” He straightened his back with pride. “I raised myself.”
Before she could ask him to elaborate the waiter returned with a check and Anya said she could put it on the company’s bill, to which Dmitry did not argue, and then they were climbing into the car and studying the next task on today’s schedule. Another meeting, this time back uptown. Anya sighed.
“Are there any errands you need to run while we’re out?” she asked. Dmitry started to protest by saying he was there to help her today but Anya scoffed. “It wouldn’t hurt. We have time.”
Dmitry eventually laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I have an errand every day.”
“I’ll bet he’s got you running everywhere,” she said with a smile. As much as she loved her father, she knew he could be… enthusiastic. And that enthusiasm made him lose sight of what a realistic mission was.
“He wants me to find this wine— I think it was like, an almost three-hundred dollar bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”
She laughed. “That’s his favorite.”
“I know.” He smiled over at her with his wrist over the steering wheel. The stoplight ahead switched red and they rolled to a stop. “And I know your mother likes Chardonnay.”
She raised her eyebrows, impressed. “You probably know our whole family by now,” she joked. “I could quiz you.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Most of you guys, I understand. There’s one or two I’m still unsure about.”
“Who?”
“You,” he said simply. “I haven’t figured you out yet.”
Her palms suddenly felt sweaty. She didn’t know how to respond to that. “Oh.”
He held her gaze for a second before they were bathed in green light and his eyes flicked back toward the road. “I’ve— I think I’ve got your brother, your sisters. I know your father. I think I even get your mom. But you… I don’t understand.”
She pressed her hands under her thighs, hoping he didn’t think she was squirming under his gaze that kept finding her. “What haven’t you figured out? I’m an open book.”
“Are you?” He asked with a laugh. “I feel like I know nothing about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
He asked without hesitation, “Why don’t you work for your father?”
Oh. He went right for the tough questions, then. She shrugged and looked away from those invitingly brown eyes, wondering how long he must’ve been wanting to ask her that.
“Everyone else in your family does, but you don’t. I’m just curious as to… why.”
Anya fiddled with the zipper on her jacket. “I didn’t want to.”
“But why?”
She shrugged again. “The corporate lifestyle just… isn’t for me.”
He kept watching, waiting for more. He’d spilled some of his deepest insecurities. Perhaps she could return the favor.
“I love my family, you know that. But sometimes I feel like the black sheep.” She crosses her arms. “I just couldn’t stomach being stuck in one place, in one cubicle, dealing with the same mean-spirited men for the rest of my life.”
When she risked a glance at him he was nodding in thought. “How bohemian of you.”
That made her laugh in surprise. “Not quite.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” he said quickly, “I was just curious.”
“I know.” She watched the pedestrians on the sidewalk next to them, all frantically walking to wherever their destination was. She’d answered Dmitry’s question, she didn’t need to share more. But there was something about him that made her feel… safe. He felt warm, like he wouldn’t mock her for her musings or insecurities. “I guess I’ve always felt a little different from the rest of my family anyway.”
“The black sheep?” Dmitry said with a grin.
“I guess? I don’t know. I still don’t understand why I’m the only one who wants something a little different from this life.” He was quiet for a second. “I still love my family, don’t get me wrong. They’ve never done anything to alienate me for my choices. But I have my suspicions that I’m not always what they expected.”
“How so?”
Anya wasn’t sure how to answer. “My mother was greatly disappointed when I wasn’t a boy.” She laughed to herself, a little self-deprecating, “and now she’s greatly disappointed that I’m not girly enough.”
Dmitry laughed too. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Deep down, probably, it is.”
“But your father loves you very much, I can tell.” Dmitry’s smile creased his dimple in his cheek and she wished he wasn’t driving so she could look at him without feeling like she was staring at something she wasn’t supposed to. “You two are very similar.”
She shrugged. That wasn’t the first time she’d heard that. “I love him a lot. I think… I don’t know. I don’t think he realizes I’ve grown up now.” Dmitry raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t think I know.”
“Know what?”
“That his doctor keeps calling him,” Anya said plainly. Quietly. Soberly. “He thinks he can handle the same workload he’s had for thirty years. But the stress is becoming too much for him.”
Dmitry was quiet. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Pieces from this afternoon started to fall together. His comment about Romanovs not eating. His confession of how much he knew everyone in her family now. His promise. So he was aware of it, then. Of course he was— all the calls Papa received went through his assistant first. But even so, gratitude swelled in her chest at his promise. “Thank you.” After a pause she asked, “Dmitry?”
“Hmm?”
“I think you’re doing a good job.” He snorted. “I’m serious!”
“You’re just being nice.” He was still laughing, his smile crinkling his eyes, and she felt a rush shoot through her body. “I’m just trying to help and get paid.”
“Well, you’re making more of a difference around here than you think.”
He swallowed and glanced over at her again, holding her gaze for too long for someone who was supposed to be driving. Uh oh. Before her eyes, this relationship was growing from the casual workplace acquaintanceship to something a bit more familiar. Friendly. And she wasn’t going to do anything to stop it.
“So,” Anya said, blinking out of the moment, “off to meeting number five of the day and then to find your runaway bottle of wine?”
His smile was soft. Affectionate. “I think there’s room in the schedule.”