First of all Sam didn’t like the thought of Pavel having his museum trip cut short, and on his birthday no less. And second of all, she could think of about ten thousand things she’d rather do with the rest of her afternoon than watch Pavel play hockey with his uncle. But in the end, she guessed she must really love the kid because she let him decide whether they should go or not.
Pavel didn’t even take a moment to consider. “Uncle Nik,” he answered immediately. “I gotta practice my goal shots some more. Uncle says if I can get one past him, he’ll buy me a pair of Bauer Supreme MX3s.”
Sam had no idea what Bauer Supreme MX3s were, but assumed they must be ice skates and valuable ones at that if Pavel was willing to cut short his Children’s Museum trip.
Once they got to the Polar’s training facility, a concrete and red brick building with cars filling nearly all of it parking spaces, Dirk led the way.
“Isaac said to take you straight back to the Polar’s rink. Rustanov’s waiting for you there. C’mon, I’ll show you the way.”
Sam understood why Dirk thought they might need an escort when they got inside. They passed a smaller rink with children playing hockey, and a larger one with thin girls, some in workout pants, some in sparkling costumes, spinning and leaping on the ice.
“Uncle says if the baby you have after this one is a girl, he’s going to enroll her in figure skating here,” Pavel informed her. “He says Russian girls have ice skating in their blood.”
He said what now? Sam wanted to reply. The big sixteen-week ultrasound where the doctor should be able to tell the baby’s sex wasn’t for another three weeks—after the close of the Polar’s season, as if the baby had been perfectly planned to fit into Nikolai’s schedule. But the genetic screening blood test Sam took a couple of weeks ago had come back with an XY sex indicator, so it was a pretty sure bet they’d be having a boy.
But if Pavel was quoting his uncle correctly, Nikolai was already thinking about and having a second biological child with her. She couldn’t tell whether the shiver that suddenly went down her back was because she was walking through a skating facility with only a light jacket on, or because of what Pavel said. Or because the thought of having another child with Nikolai, a little girl with his strong resolve, didn’t exactly repel her.
Pavel came to an abrupt stop. “He’s not here,” he said, his shoulders slumping with disappointment.
Indeed, the rink they were apparently headed toward was completely dark behind the plexiglas windows.
Sam frowned but kept her voice reassuring as she rubbed the little boy’s back. “Maybe he’s still in his office.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll text Isaac.”
But Dirk kept walking and beckoned them forward. “Isaac said to meet him here at 5:00 PM on the D.O.T. It’s 4:59 PM and I’m not getting in trouble because I missed the drop off.”
Dirk’s insistence on getting to the darkened rink on time surprised Sam. He was usually pretty flexible, but she supposed that was because she and Pavel were almost always where they were supposed be, when they were supposed to be for “the drop off.”
Irritated, but not wanting to cause Pavel’s bodyguard any unnecessary stress, she put a hand on Pavel’s back and guided him forward.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “He’ll probably be here soon, and we can just wait for him in the—”
Dirk flipped the lights on to reveal a large rink filled with smiling people. Many of whom she recognized as classmates of Pavel’s and their parents. There were also a couple of guys in full-on hockey gear, including a long-haired blond she’d seen on a few Polar’s posters. One of their star players, if she recalled correctly.
“SURPRISE!!!” they all yelled in unison.
It was a birthday party, Sam realized then. A birthday party for Pavel, who was just standing there beside her, frozen in shock.
Until his Uncle, who’d been standing in the middle of the crowd, skated forward and beckoned him forward with a solemn “Happy Birthday, Pavel.”
After that, Sam knew for sure what she’d only suspected before. All Pavel’s talk about not wanting a party had been a bunch of hooey. And it was totally disproved when he didn’t just walk, but flew across the ice towards his uncle, hugging him around the waist so hard, it was a wonder Nikolai was able to stay balanced on his skates.
At first Sam thought Pavel was laughing with delight when he buried his face in Nikolai’s side and his shoulders started shaking, but then there came a sound. A ragged keening that could not in any way be mistaken for laughter. Pavel was crying, she realized, crying so hard his whole body convulsed with it.
The rink grew quiet and for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was that of Pavel’s wild sobs, which were obviously about so much more than being surprised with a birthday party. Nikolai looked up at her, a heavy frown on his face, as if he blamed her for this unexpected response.
“Pavel, stop this,” he said to the boy. “Stop this now.”
Sam came forward, prepared to intervene so Nikolai wouldn’t make him feel ashamed about crying.
But then Nikolai gently patted the overcome boy on the back. “Come Pavel. It is time to stop crying,” he said quietly. “We all came here for you. Come, take your party.”
To Sam’s surprise, Pavel let his uncle out of the fierce clutch, sniffled once, and then did just that. Skating off to join his cheering friends who seemed more than willing to overlook a little crying if it meant skating on the Polar’s ice rink with a few of the team’s players, no less.
She turned her gaze back to Nikolai and saw he was watching her watch Pavel finally get the party he deserved with a satisfied smirk in his eyes. And she wondered if he’d done this for Pavel. Or just to prove her wrong.
Either way, she couldn’t begrudge him the results. Pavel was flipping out, especially when the long-haired blond skated over to him with a pair of slick black skates, which from Pavel’s jumping up and down action, she could only assume were the coveted Bauer’s Pavel had mentioned earlier.
No doubt about it, whatever Nikolai’s true intentions, he’d made Pavel the happiest boy on earth. And she couldn’t help the warm feeling that erupted inside her chest, despite the smirking look he was giving her.
In fact, she wondered if she was ever going to figure out how to dislike Nikolai Rustanov as much as her good sense told her she should if she didn’t want to get hurt.
30
“THEY get along,” Nikolai’s cousin, Alexei, observed as they watched Pavel and Alexei’s son, Aaron, take part in a shooting drill game. It involved the Polar’s star left winger, Brian Atwood, who was acting as goalie.
Aaron was a couple years older than Pavel, but anyone who saw them together at the party likely assumed the light brown boys had known each other forever, the way they talked trash and encouraged each other during the drills in equal parts.
“Da,” Nikolai agreed.
At that moment, Pavel got a shot past Brian—most likely because he was the birthday boy and Brian was trying to get back into Nikolai’s good graces, so that he wouldn’t go through with his threat to trade him to the worst team in the league.
But Aaron treated it like a great feat, dropping his own stick and yelling, “Yeah, cuz! That’s how us Russians do! Act like you know!”
Then he began chanting, “Russia! Russia! Russia!”
Pavel’s classmates, who were still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that there were not one but two biracial half-Russians at this birthday party, stared.
And Alexei’s mouth twitched, his eyes glimmering with amusement, as explained, “The boy takes after his mother.”
Nikolai’s own mouth twitched as he looked to the other side of the rink where Eva was standing with Samantha. The two women had started talking shortly after the cake had been served and much like Pavel and Aaron, they’d immediately hit it off. A half an hour later, they were still chatting away.
Nikolai wasn’t surprised. His wife and the Tex
an who, much to Nikolai’s consternation, insisted on calling him Nikki and his nephew Pavvy, had a lot in common beyond the color of their skin. Including backgrounds in social work, gregarious spirits, and Russian husbands. Of course they had decided to become instant best friends.
His wife had a way of immediately connecting with other women, Nikolai noted. That was probably what made her so good at her job. It also didn’t hurt that she seemed to have a warm smile for everyone she met.
At least everyone but him, he thought, his mind darkening.
“So you married the woman in the green dress,” his cousin said beside him. His eyes stayed on the two half-Russian boys on the ice, but his voice took on a certain chill. “Yet you did not invite your favorite cousin to the wedding. Only to this child’s birthday party.”
“Our wedding was small and quick. This party is much more important. It was time for Pavel to meet you and your family.”
“More important than your wedding? Hmmm,” Alexei chewed on that for a moment and Nikolai felt himself tense up. But then Alexei smoothly continued, “Aaron is glad to have another boy on the American side of the Rustanov family, so we appreciate the invitation to Pavel’s birthday.”
Nikolai had always liked and respected his cousin, but his easy acceptance of Pavel as an official Rustanov, despite the fact that he had no official blood ties to their family, made Nikolai admire him that much more.
“Pavel feels the same, I am sure,” Nikolai answered in Russian.
They stood there for a few moments, watching Aaron and Pavel play with matching fondness, but then Alexei opened his mouth again and totally ruined the moment.
“How far along is she?” he asked Nikolai.
Nikolai respected Alexei too much to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about, even though he’d never told his cousin Samantha was pregnant.
“Twelve weeks,” he answered. “The blood test says it will be a boy.”
Alexei nodded and said, “Pozdravlyayu.”
Congratulations in Russian.
“Spasibo,” Nikolai answered, hoping that would be the end of this line of conversation.
But after a few moments of thoughtful silence, his cousin said, “Did you get this woman pregnant on purpose?”
Nikolai’s chin dipped low in embarrassment and growing anger, but he answered his cousin truthfully. “Of course not on purpose. It was a surprise. You know I did not want children.”
Alexei tilted his head to the side and gave his cousin another thoughtful look. “I told my Eva I did not want children. I told her this from the start.”
“So you understand,” Nikolai said.
“I told her this, but then I made her pregnant. It was also a surprise. A surprise I have never had with another woman.”
Nikolai who was already well acquainted with Alexei and Eva’s dramatic back story, pursed his lips and asked, “What is your point?”
“I did not like growing up in the Rustanov family. The constant danger, the bodyguards, all the killing. It colored the way I saw the world, and I would not wish that for my children. That is why I refused to have any. But maybe Eva changed my mind, without me knowing it.”
Alexei continued to watch the children skating, but his eyes were in a faraway place as he said, “I did not like growing up a Rustanov, but at least my parents were kind to me. At least they showed me what it was for two people to love each other. That helped.”
Nikolai didn’t reply this time. It was the first time his cousin had ever alluded to the difficulties of growing up a Russian mafia scion, and though Nikolai respected his cousin for turning the Rustanovs into a legitimate business family, he still found it hard to see things from Alexei’s perspective.
Back then, Alexei’s life had seemed perfect, a Russian version of a Norman Rockwell painting. His parents doted on him, and gave him good memories of them to carry forward even after their untimely deaths. It was the complete opposite of how Nikolai had grown up, making it difficult for him on the few occasions his father had brought him to the Rustanov’s palatial estate in Rublevka.
Alexei regarded him with a sad smile. “I will make a confession to you now. Your father scared me as a little boy, and also as a young man. I often took solace in the fact that he was only my uncle, and I felt very sorry for you and Fedya, especially after what happened with your mother. Even sorrier now, because Fedya did not make it.”
Nikolai flinched, Alexei words a sharp knife twisting in his gut. He’d always suspected his cousin regarded him as an object of pity, that finally accepting him into the Rustanov family was an act of pity, and now here was his confirmation.
But the flinch was the only thing Alexei got from him. After that small movement, Nikolai blanked his face and said, “Thank you for your thoughts. But I keep the past in the past. My father does not concern me now.”
“So you say,” Alexei continued to regard him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You know, I made a lot of mistakes with Eva because of my past. Mistakes I deeply regret now that she is the mother of my children.”
Alexei shook his head, wincing as if the memories of his and Eva’s tumultuous relationship still caused him pain. “I do not know what is wrong between you and this woman, but I see she does not talk to you, does not look at you while we are all here together. Whatever it is that is wrong, you need to fix it. Before the baby comes.”
Alexei and Nikolai were no longer boys. Alexei was no longer a mafia prince, and Nikolai was no longer in line to replace his father as the Rustanov family’s enforcer. Alexei had no right to talk to him this way. No right at all.
Nikolai’s fist clenched at his side.
“Hit me if you want,” Alexei told him calmly. “But it is still the truth. You must fix this. She is a good woman. Funny, like my Eva. And you are full of pride, like me. But trust me, pride has no place in relationships and I promised you this, if you do not get over yours, you will lose her.”
The thought of losing Samantha, of her taking the baby with her as she had threatened before, tore at him worse than a nightmare and it rooted him to the spot in horror. Because Alexei’s words didn’t feel like a warning, but a promise.
A promise of things to come.
“I would like another piece of cake,” Alexei decided out loud. “And then I will take my family and we will go. But think about what I said, Nikolai.”
Alexei left then, heading towards the cake table, and Nikolai was left alone. Still a little boy, still unable to defend himself when confronted with an opponent he couldn’t punch or knock down or kill.
He watched Alexei walk away, his words of answer stuck in his throat. I am trying. I am. But… I am not sure it can be fixed.
“Mr. Rustanov?”
Nikolai turned around to see Isaac standing there.
“Just checking in,” his assistant said. “The party’s scheduled to end in twenty minutes. Is there anything else you want me to do before I give everyone a fifteen warning?”
Nikolai thought about it. Thought about what his cousin had said, and answered, “Da, I have one thing more for you to do.”
* * *
“Hello, Mrs. Rustanov!” Isaac’s voice called out behind Sam, just as she was about to take Layla into her arms.
Alexei and Eva’s one-year-old had somehow cuted them into a game of pass-the toddler-back-and-forth, and it was now Sam’s turn to hold the adorable nugget for up to a full minute before she started squirming to be handed back to her mother.
Or maybe more, Sam thought, cuddling the toddler in her arms. Depending on whatever Isaac had to talk with Eva about.
Eva grinned at her, though. “I think he’s talking to you.”
And Sam turned to see that yes indeed,, Isaac was clearly waiting for her attention.
“Oh… hi, Isaac. You can just keep on calling me Sam. Just Sam, seriously,” she said, wondering if she’d ever get used to people calling her by Nikolai’s last name.
Isaac gave her an uncomfortable smile.
“Okay… Sam,” he said. “Mr. Rustanov has an all-day event he’d like you attend the Friday after next, and he asked me to make sure you clear your calendar for it.”
Sam remembered what she’d said to Nikolai the last time they’d had a full conversation. We’re more like project partners and I don’t sleep with my project partners. So if you have an event or a work obligation you need me to attend. Fine. That’s what I signed up for. But I’m sleeping on the couch.
Apparently Nikolai had taken her at her word. “What kind of event?” she asked Isaac.
Isaac shook his head with a shrug. “You know, he actually hasn’t told me yet, just asked me to give you a heads up. Also, I’ll need your passport for security clearance purposes. I assume you have one. Can you send it in with Mr. Rustanov in the next day or so?”
“Sure, ” Sam answered. “But I need to know what the event is. Like, what should I wear, because I’ll probably need to shop…”
“Nope, I’ll take care of all that and coordinate with Nyla on childcare,” Isaac answered, already backing away. “Just clear your calendar. Thanks!”
He was gone before Sam could ask any more questions or tell him Nyla was officially an intern, not her assistant. Again. Isaac was forever insisting on “coordinating” through Nyla, as if it were somehow anathema to him to talk directly to Sam herself. He was like the walking personification of “have your people call my people.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a hot date,” Eva said with a wink. “Good idea to get them out of the way now, because trust me, hot dates become mighty hard once breastfeeding comes into play.”
Sam shook her head, “Oh, it’s nothing like that. It’s probably just an NHL thing or something. Nikolai doesn’t do hot dates. Or any dates whatsoever.”
Eva lifted a brow. “Wow, really? Now that I’ve finished breastfeeding, Alexei’s always pressuring me to let our nanny take over for the weekend so we can do a hotel getaway.”
Sam really liked Eva, she really did. Not just because they were both black women married to Russians—which had been huge but pleasant surprise—but also because she had a wicked sense of humor that reminded Sam of how she used to be back in Alabama, when she’d only had the running of one Ruth’s House on her plate. But as much as she liked Eva, it was hard to keep her jealousy at bay when she said things like that.
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