Leonid Unstoppable

by May Ball, Alice

  Konstantin takes a seat at the head of the table, between the two women. I sit by him, but not too close. I know that this meeting is important, and I’m not even sure why he wants me here. I’m hoping it’s the same reason I want to be here. I just don’t want to be apart from him. Even being a few feet away is painful. But the dynamics of the meeting are going to be important. More so as it’s a family group. I don’t want to be grit in the mix.

  Konstantin’s voice is neutral. “Who were you having lunch with, Tatti?”

  “It was work, Konstantin.”

  “Really.”

  “I know you don’t value my work here, but I do what I can. I held a lunch for all the most important editors and bloggers who we didn’t invite last night. You know that an Italian Jeweler’s convention is in town. They’ll be splashing hospitality around to make friends. I thought we should get ahead of them.”

  “So,” Svetlana asks, “Did you give them lunch as a consolation for not being invited last night?”

  “Of course not.” Tatiana purses her lips. “I told them they were all too important to come.”

  “Oh,” Konstantin’s eyes roll. “And I bet they believed that, Tati.”

  “They’re all too important for us to show them anything that’s not absolutely perfect. I let them know that last night, we were showing prototypes. Works in progress.”

  “So,” Svetlana leans back with a puzzled look. “You told them last night was like market research? A focus group?”

  Tatiana nods. “Exactly.”

  Konstantin gives a thin smile. “And you think they’ll buy that?”

  “You know fashion people, Kon. You tell me. Do you think that if you tell a group of editors and bloggers that they’re too important, they might disbelieve you?”

  Svetlana laughs, “She’s got a point, Konstantin.”

  “Yeah. Ok. You’re good at that PR stuff.”

  “I’m good at finding a win out of a disaster. What did you think you were doing, scheduling a launch to clash with the Italian shows and only inviting half the press? My ‘PR stuff’ got us out of a hole. One that could have been very deep and dark.”

  “No, she’s right, Konstantin,” Svetlana says. “Good job, Tatiana. And good thinking to head it off like that.”

  Tatiana looks between the two of them. Then she stares at me.

  “So,” she says, “Before we start into whatever the big emergency is that’s your panic of the day, Kon, I’d like to know, who the fuck is she, and why is she even in the room while we discuss this? Why is she here?”

  “Oh,” Konstantin says, “Didn’t I introduce you?”

  “No.”

  “She’s mind your own fucking business, Tatiana, and she’s here because fuck you. She’s here because I like her and right now, I think I might fucking hate you.” He stands. I want to encourage him to sit and stay calm, but I’m not going to get in the middle of this. He says, “Do you see much of Lev these days, Tati?”

  She’s quiet. Scowling. Broody.

  Konstantin “Did you see him at the show yesterday?”

  “What is this?”

  His voice is hard. “You’ve been selling us out, Tatiana. Svetlana and me. We’re family. Why the fuck have you done that? You don’t even need the fucking money!”

  “I don’t know what the fuck…”

  I say, “I think Tatiana’s right.”

  “What?” Svetlana and Konstantin both stare at me, open-mouthed. The look on Tatiana’s face would burn a steak.

  “I know I shouldn’t speak. But I think Tatiana may be right.” They’re all staring, “Perhaps you don’t value her work.”

  “We share everything three ways. If it’s any concern of yours,” Svetlana’s voice is tense.

  Softly, I say, “I’m not certain I know what you do in the business, Tatiana.” Her eyes narrow. “Could you explain it to me, like really simply?”

  She’s silent for a moment. She doesn’t trust me. Why should she? After a tense pause, Svetlana says, “Tatiana is our social director.”

  “I run the events—” then with a cutting look across her sister and cousin, “—usually.” I guess she didn’t get to run yesterday’s launch. “I maintain the social directory. Keep in touch with all our contacts, people in the media as well as the buyers. And some suppliers, too.”

  “Could you do that, Konstantin? If Tatiana resigned, or took a year away, could you take over her role?”

  “I would be hopeless. I would alienate them all in a weekend.” His mood lightens a little. “I’d have a great weekend. But we’d be out of business.”

  “You, Svetlana?”

  “Only if I stopped doing what I do. And then, like Konstantin said, we’d be out of business.”

  “What you do, though, Tatiana, it isn’t just lists and calendars, is it?”

  “How do you mean?” She’s wary.

  “What you described about the lunch today. That’s a kind of alchemy. Conjuring the story and the message. Presenting the story the right way, to the right groups of people, at the right time. Isn’t that right?”

  Now they’re all looking at me.

  I ask them, “Could anyone else fill Tatiana’s role? Could you hire someone in?”

  Svetlana says, “No. Nobody understands the brand like we three. Nobody ever could. What Tatiana does is… when you put it that way, it’s as important as what I do.”

  “Oh, come on,” Konstantin says, “Your designs are Zavarovski.”

  “So is the community, Konstantin. The designs were innovative at the beginning. Now, honestly? There’s a pattern that’s established. I sometimes think I could train someone up to make them.” She looks in his eye, “But the brand is a lot more than just the product. It was you who taught me that.”

  He’s looking at me in amazement.

  Then he says, “Tatiana, I think I have a better understanding of what you do, and I see why you didn’t feel appreciated. You should be grateful to Parker–”

  Tatiana cuts in, “Is that the stowaway’s name?”

  “You can’t call her that. Only I can call her that.”

  Chapter 17

  Him

  OUT ON DECK, I look at her in wonder. “You did something amazing there, little stowaway.”

  “You think?” She’s squinting against the sun, “You and Svetlana had the big ideas, you with the crystals, the big, sexy physics of the manufacture. She with her visionary designs. You two brought this whole empire into being.” Standing by the rail, I hold her close. “It’s easy to see why Tatiana feels overshadowed. But she does play an important part. You do need her.”

  “Not like I need you. You really are amazing, my little stowaway.” I hug her, feeling her heartbeat. Thinking of all the other places in the world we could be. Thinking how it could be to have her with me, everywhere.

  “Now,” I tell her, “I have to solve the problem of Lev.”

  “You need to decide what’s more important to you. And what matters most for the business. Do you want revenge, or do you want healing?”

  We talk until the sun starts to set. I listen to her. She’s wise in ways that I can learn from.

  I take her into the study with me when I call Lev. The man is so arrogant, he doesn’t even deny what he’s done. He sounds so bitter, it’s hard to believe that we were children together but maybe he was always this way. But I keep in mind what Parker told me. I let him talk and I make him an offer.

  “The damage that’s been done, Lev. We’ll recover. But, let’s get past it. Pay us and let’s move on. Join us, Lev.”

  His voice is scornful. “What can I do at Zavarovski?”

  “Honestly, Lev, I don’t know. But Tatiana and Svetlana will work something out.”

  “How much do you want for the leaks?”

  “It’s going to hurt, Lev. Five mil.”

  “That would practically bankrupt me.”

  “If you join us, work with us, make yourself useful, you’ll make it bac
k.”

  “Three, Kon. Say three.”

  “Don’t ever call me that.” I’m holding my temper back. “I’ve said five.”

  “It’s too much.”

  “You wouldn’t like the alternative, Lev. You know the Russian police and the courts see justice as a commodity. I’ve bought enough of it to know.”

  “Do your worst.”

  When I hang up, she gives me such a sad smile. I know that she really understands. She doesn’t want to know the details, but we talked it over before the call. She understood that men would be at Lev’s door, ready.

  Since he didn’t accept my offer, he will already have begun a painful journey to the cells. He won’t breathe free air again for a very long time.

  Chapter 18

  Her

  THE GALLERY IS DOWNTOWN, in the area south of Market Street. That part of San Francisco is always hip, and it always seems to be for a different reason. It’s been tech, it’s been venture capital, it’s been AI, now it’s the arts. Just a couple of blocks from the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, this two-story glass box is currently the most hip, cutting-edge arts exhibition space.

  Tonight is an opening for a major fusion of art and fashion. Svetlana’s designs and clothes are featured, and Tatiana’s artworks, too. Akram plays thumping music throughout the huge gallery space.

  Winding my way through the enfants terribles, directional leaders, and edgy-hot designers, mingling with the dancers and models, all too late, I’m suddenly aware that the time I set out for myself to change kept getting moved around. Typical me, it got pushed off the list.

  Here I am at the opening, one of the most important showcases of the season for San Francisco—very important for Svetlana and Tatiana. Most of all, though, this is probably going to be the most important opening for me, for the whole of my life.

  And yet, here I am again, overalls and a white tee-shirt.

  I guess my position in the fashion hierarchy is set. I’m an observer. Not an exhibit. An also-ran. Never the star.

  But, as I make my way through, looking for Svetlana, I’m amazed by the number of people greeting me. Almost everybody smiles, says hi, is eager to talk. To see and be seen with me. I find it unnerving. How do they even know who I am? But Svetlana runs to my side.

  “Parker!” And she applauds in the skittish way that she has, “Your overalls and white tee-shirt! Your signature! It’s so perfectly you, you’re going to be an icon!”

  She links arms with me, beckons a cocktail waiter and hands me a champagne cocktail, before she takes one for herself. We clink glasses and throw back the cocktails. Svetlana could make you feel at home anywhere.

  As we get nearer to the center of the exhibition, the crowd begins to part for us, to turn toward us. Looking around, I’m stunned by the number of A-list celebrities there are here, all looking in our direction. With a contact list and a calendar, Tatiana really is a genius.

  After we replace our empty glasses with fresh cocktails, Svetlana leads me, smiling and greeting, through the glamorous glittering bodies, deeper into the show. Rhythm pounds and the beats are like a soundtrack for the two of us. Like we’re making a red-carpet entrance.

  Until we reach the centerpiece. A virtual room. Sheets of glass hang, with a picture suspended in the middle of each sheet, like they’re held in midair.

  Photographs.

  My photographs.

  A ripple of applause begins to roll around the crowd as I draw near with Svetlana holding my arm. Nearby I see Darby and my professor and all of our class, all applauding and beaming with pride and pleasure.

  My shots of the runway show on Firebird. Studio photographs I took of Irina and Kasha, modeling Zavarovski Precious Crystals. There are the pics from the reception, some of the Horde of Hades.

  I caught all three of them with their mouths twisted, scowling like the little hell spawn they are.

  And then, right at the center, bathed in soft lighting, is the centerpiece. The highlight of the whole exhibition.

  The brave smile, the unbreakable spirit. The gleaming wisdom. My inspiration. Mamma.

  Flashbulbs erupt, dazzling me. I am definitely more comfortable behind the camera.

  And Konstantin appears at my side with a champagne glass. Smiling. Imagine. Him, actually smiling.

  Applause seems to go on forever, until, at last, he lifts a hand and says, “Thank you all for coming tonight. I know we all are going to remember this moment, the instant that a brilliant new artist burst onto the scene.” The applause starts up again as he lifts the glass to me.

  He taps his glass for attention again and says, “But an even more important moment for me is this.” He looks at me, “Parker,” and I almost faint. This is not in the schedule. Where’s he going with this? “I am so lucky to have found you. You are all the woman I could ever want, more than I had ever dreamed of. You’re a wonderful woman, beautiful and brilliant. You’re an artist and a genius. And you’re the woman I want to share all of my life with. I want to love you and protect you and give you all that you can wish for, and to care for you every day and in every way.”

  I almost sway with dizziness when he drops to one knee.

  “You stowed away in my heart and you will fill it forever.” He looks me in the eye. “So I’m asking you now, Parker Adams, if you be my wife.”

  I’m too shocked to speak. Tatiana and Svetlana hold hands and wear tight smiles, and I can see they’ve got their glasses ready and their fingers are crossed. They knew. This was part of a plan.

  The silence is unbearable. I can’t find my voice.

  I reach down to take his face in my hands. As hard as I can, I nod and I keep nodding as hard as I can until at last, I’m able to say, “Yes.”

  Akram starts up the sounds and the room explodes into a party.

  Epilogue

  Her

  KONSTANTIN IS FIXING DRINKS to bring up. At the front of Firebird’s top deck, I watched a school of dolphins jump up into the salty night air. They twisted and dove, danced with flying fish off the starboard bow. A private marine show. Leaning out on the rail, there’s nothing to see in every direction now, nothing but sparkling moonlit ocean.

  We’re the only two passengers, headed to the Caribbean for our honeymoon cruise. His footsteps, heavy on the deck behind me, always put a thrill in my core. I don’t turn. I love to feel him, sense his presence, coming nearer. Have him find me. Let him do what he wants with his stowaway. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.

  He puts the champagne cocktail on the table beside me and sets his next to it. His hand strokes my neck before he seizes my chin and twists my face around to his.

  His mouth plunders mine. Savage and relentless, he takes what he needs. With his tongue and his lips. And his breath. Whenever our mouths are together, when his tongue is in mine, that’s when I begin to feel that I’m his.

  His other hand slips in the front of my overalls. Up, over the white cotton of my T-shirt, his big, hot fingers play me. I moan and press my ass back against his crotch as he squeezes my breast.