“That’s ok darling. We can talk about it later,” Julian said through his teeth. His smile was so wide and so phony that he looked like a living doll. The beautiful man that Virginia thought she was falling for was no more, and in his place was another opportunist with chiseled abs.
“We…kind of already talked about it,” Virginia yanked her hand away like she just touched something hot. “I thought you were different.”
“What do you mean? I am different. Just look at me,” Julian said.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m not some meal ticket for you to…..Forget it. I’m not even hungry anymore,” Virginia had only taken 2 bites of her food, but she was ready to go. She wanted to be far away from Julian.
“Wait, V!” Julian started to call after her. She was storming away rather abruptly. She didn’t care if she was making a scene. Julian was the one who was so concerned about who it was that saw them.
“V! Who’s gonna pay for this?” Julian wailed. Virginia stopped dead in her tracks and started laughing. She wheeled around to face Julian who was terribly confused by her sudden fit of giggles. Virginia calmly walked back to the table and reached into her purse. She pulled out a thousand dollars and placed it on the table in front of Julian.
“This is for dinner, and for your cab, and for you to never call me again. We are so over. But this,” she picked up the bottle of Moscato, “this I’m taking with me.”
Virginia grabbed the bottle of wine, which was already almost halfway empty, and left the restaurant. She walked out into the night and took a swig of the wine straight from the bottle. She was gonna hail a cab and finish it before she got home. She had some packing to do. Tomorrow, she was going to Russia. She didn’t have any business there for half a month. She’d spend the first half of it avoiding the public. Virginia wanted two weeks of rest where no one could bother her and where not many people knew her name; she would make sure of that anyway. Her trip couldn’t come soon enough.
*****
It had been a long flight to Moscow. It wasn’t that much longer than from New York to London, but if you’re awake for the entirety of an almost 10 hour flight, it seemed like an eternity. Even though she was a celebrity, she still had to spend time in the airport. She spent most of her night packing her own things. She had a maid at home to help, but she was asleep by the time Virginia drunkenly stumbled into her two-story apartment.
Virginia didn’t so much pack as she did pick up a few racks of clothes and shoes and stuff them into large bags. She didn’t even know what she packed, but it didn’t matter to her. She had the luxury of being able to buy an entirely new wardrobe while she was away.
After her flight, and checking into the hotel under a code name, she stayed in bed for the first day and a half. She checked her emails, but didn’t answer them unless there was some degree of urgency [which most of them were], and she ignored calls from everyone except for Nancy.
“So? How is mother Russia?” Nancy asked in her imitation Russian accent. Virginia was sitting in her bathrobe surrounded by ice creams, gelato, wine, fruits, and cheeses. She was usually a health nut, but right now she didn’t care about anything.
“Russia’s great from my hotel room. I haven’t done much exploring. I pretty much have everything I want in here. There’s a heated pool on the second floor of my hotel room, a hot tub on the balcony, and access to all the gay porn I want.”
Nancy laughed over the phone. She didn’t want to spoil Virginia’s rest to talk about work. She wanted to lighten her friend’s mood.
“So you absconded to the Kremlin just to lock yourself away in a penthouse suite? What about an adventure? Don’t you wanna explore the city? You can get a head start before your first big show. That’s in less than 2 weeks remember?”
“Nanc, the Kremlin is one place, and I haven’t even been there…”
“Whatever. I saw Mission Impossible Four.”
Virginia laughed before putting a spoonful of butter pecan ice cream into her mouth and continuing.
“I just want to be where people don’t know who I am. Everyone seems to want something from me rather than just wanting to be around me for me. So, I absconded in order to get some rest and some me time.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to explore?”
“Yep.”
“Sure sure?”
“Nancy…what did you do?” Virginia put a spoonful of strawberry banana ice cream in her mouth next. She reached over to grab some kiwi slices, and waited for Nancy to speak. The line was silent, but she knew that she was still there.
“Nothing! Nothing. Just…sorta hired an agency to have a guy show you around the city in a private car, that’s all,” she said in a single breath.
“Oh Nancy, you didn’t!”
“I did too. You need to have some fun. You need to discover things other than good looking people and amazing clothes. Get to know the world without it being for business! Also, you might wanna hurry. I told them to pick you up at 2 your time.”
Virginia looked at her diamond encrusted Michael Kors watch. It was just after 1, which meant that it was 5am in New York. What was Nancy still doing awake? Virginia was going to ask her, but Nancy already cut her off to let her know that she was going to bed soon.
“It’s been a busy night here. Taking care of as much as I can. I’ll let you know if it gets too much. I’ll probably call crying for you to come home. It’s called the Polezno Agency. I gave your guide the name to use for your hotel. Have fun, and play nice. I’ll talk to you later!”
Nancy hung up before Virginia could say another word. She always talked really fast when she wanted Virginia to try something new that she wouldn’t otherwise have if not for Nancy’s coaxing.
Virginia looked around at all of her desserts. She obviously wasn’t going to be late; that wasn’t her style. But she wasn’t going to let this ice cream go to waste. She’d put it away first, then shower, and get ready for whatever strange shenanigans Nancy had already planned for her, even if she was a million miles away.
*****
“Shug Avery?” a voice from the front desk asked. Virginia was just about to put on her shoes when she got the call from downstairs.
“Yep. Is my ride here?” Virginia asked. She put the receiver on her shoulder so that she could buckle her sandals.
“Yes he is. Would you like for us to send him to your room?”
Virginia wasn’t comfortable with a stranger knowing what room in the hotel she was in. She was in the biggest suite, of course, but the person didn’t need to know that.
“No, that’s ok, I’ll come down in a second. What’s he wearing?”
“Oh. The gentleman is in an all-black suit.”
“Thank you,” Virginia said. She had buckled both sandals when the person from the front desk hung up the phone. She was just about to step out when she noticed that her towel was still wrapped on her head like a long spiral. She yanked it off and let her curls flow free. Her hair was still a bit wet from her shower, but it was a nice warm day. It would take no time to dry.
Virginia gave herself a final look in the bathroom mirror. She had on lace white shorts with a silk pair of undershorts, and a stylish black jacket with silver buttons and silver studs on the collar. She was wearing custom Ray Ban transition glasses, and her large Michael Kors leather tote bag was from a special gift package from an award show; it was a set with the diamond encrusted watch.
She topped off her outfit with a floppy sun hat. It covered most of her up, and she hoped she’d blend in enough so she could explore Moscow incognito. She was worried her sense of style and the fact that she was black would make her stick out like a sore thumb. Virginia flashed herself her signature smile and turned so that she could see herself from the back.
“Alrighty V, let’s get this tour over with,” Virginia said to herself. She stepped out of her suite and onto the elevator. A lot of different thoughts were dancing around inside of her when she went down.
She hoped there wouldn’t be a language barrier, because she only knew how to say ‘do svidaniya’; that was only because she had seen that cartoon Anastasia when she was a young girl. She was obsessed with couture dresses even from that cartoon. She was sure she had designed an outfit inspired by the navy blue dress the cartoon character wore to the opera. Virginia smiled at the silly daydream. She also hoped that she wasn’t too casually dressed. She just remembered that the person from the front desk said that her guide was in an all-black suit. She calmed her nerves down; it was probably his attire for work and nothing more.
There was a part of her that was anxious, and she wasn’t sure why. She kept telling herself she was nervous about being in a country that she hadn’t been to before, or that it could be what she was wearing, or not wanting to be seen…but she realized she was nervous about meeting her tour guide. It was odd for her. Virginia was a social monarch butterfly. Anywhere that she spread her wings brought followers, and fans, and love interests everywhere. She didn’t know this person from Adam. So why all the nerves?
She decided it could only be an emotional transformation. Something cracked in her that last night with Julian. She had had enough of being for everyone. All she wanted was to be herself for herself. Virginia was still lost in thought when a young couple got onto the elevator with her. They eyed her and started speaking to each other in hushed tones. She couldn’t understand a word that they were saying. She wasn’t sure if she’d been recognized, if there was something racially charged by the way they were speaking, or if they weren’t even thinking of her at all.
“Excuse me…miss?” the man said. He spoke slowly. His English wasn’t that good, but he smiled.
Virginia smiled back but lowered her head ever so slightly. She knew what was coming next.
“Are you American?” he asked.
It was a good thing that she had on transition lenses so the couple couldn’t see the look of pure bewilderment on her face.
“Yes, I am. How did you know?” Virginia asked.
“Style,” he smiled nervously. “My girlfriend has always wanted to go to New York to see the winter there. I will surprise her. Propose, you know?”
It was refreshing to have random chit chat. She didn’t realize that her shoulders were raised in a sort of cringe. She had been expecting something completely different. They didn’t recognize her at all. She was flattered that they picked up on her style though. She let out a breath, released her shoulders, and relaxed.
“That’s so sweet. You should take her to Rockefeller Center. You can go ice skating and propose when it’s snowing,” Virginia said. His girlfriend clearly couldn’t speak any English. She smiled and nodded awkwardly, but didn’t say anything.
“I will. Thank you. How long are you in our country?”
“The rest of this month. Here on business and pleasure,” Virginia said. They were getting closer to the lobby, and the elevator was slowing down.
“Nice. If you ever feel lonely, we are in room 513. I am Nikolai, and this is Alyona. She likes your style, but doesn’t know how to say in English,” Nikolai said. They were genuine people. They looked so in love and happy. Virginia thanked them.
“It’s really nice to meet you both. I’m Virginia. I’ll see you later,” she did a little wave, but didn’t let them know that she was staying in the biggest suite at the hotel. They parted ways when the elevator doors parted. The young couple made a right turn towards the pool deck and bar while Virginia went straight ahead down the grand staircase that led to the lobby. There weren’t that many people. Virginia scoped the room with her eyes without moving her head as she descended.
That was when she spotted him. His back was turned, but he was in full black. His hair was slicked back and jet black. He had an impressive build, at least 6 foot 4. His shoulders were broad, and he stood as still as a statue. Virginia wondered what his face was like.
Just like that, as if he knew that she was there, the stranger turned, and Virginia felt her stomach float up into her heart.
Chapter 3
“You must be Shug Avery,” his voice came out like a song. For the first time in a long time, Virginia was completely speechless. He was good looking, but not in a male model or Ken doll sort of way. He had a look that matched hers…old Hollywood. His face was clean shaven, and he had a natural upward curve at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were dark brown, but they appeared brighter because of the whites of his eyes and the thickness of his brows. His jawline was chiseled, and his nose pointed at the tip. He was symmetrical in almost every way, and Virginia couldn’t help but study all of his features before giving him a reply.
“Actually, it’s Virginia,” she said. She more breathed the words than said them. She was grateful again for her big hat and sunglasses; that way, he couldn’t tell that she was studying his face. He smiled.
“Alright, Virginia Avery, I’m…”
“Oh, no. I’m Virginia Maxwell,” she corrected, “Shug Avery is a character from The Color Purple. I change my pseudonym to a different black Oscar nominated actress or character whenever I’m at a hotel. I’m not sure why I told you that.”
Her tour guide laughed. She was blurting out her words. It was the first time that she seemed unsure of herself or what to say. Her usual charm could be found nowhere. She was busy listening to the chime of his deep laugh. It was as seductive as his accent, which wasn’t quite Russian. There was something there that made any sound he made come out like a dance.
“I thought I recognized you. I am Dmitri Ivanov; your guide for this exquisite afternoon. May I take your bag?” he presented his hand to Virginia. Without thinking, Virginia put her hand in his and awkwardly shook it. She was shaking his hand with the wrong hand, and it looked like a strange way for a couple to be holding hands. Dmitri cleared his throat. “Your bag?”
“My bag? Oh, that’s why your hand was….Oh. No, thanks, I have my bag,” Virginia said. She wanted to sink into the floor. “Where are we going Dmitri?”
Dmitri started to move toward the door. He slowed his steps down so that Virginia could keep up with him. His strides were long and almost graceful. He opened the door for her and directed her towards his car. It was an all-black SUV, as Virginia suspected it would be. She felt comfortable on the black leather chair; comfortable enough to at least take off her hat. She ran a hand through her thick curls, but they were still a bit wet.
“You have very lovely hair, Ms. Maxwell,” Dmitri said. He hadn’t mentioned where it was he was taking her, but he waited to hear the click of her buckling up before getting a move on.
“Thank you. I like your hair too,” she turned her face slightly without trying to get his attention. She practically popped her eyeballs out of her skull to give him a sideways glance. His profile was stunning, like a renaissance painting, or a character from one of those cartoons she watched as a child. He was like Dimitri from Anastasia.
“You’re far too kind. What do you like to do, Ms. Maxwell? I can give you the general tour around the city, but I was specifically told by your assistant not to do that.”
“Oh you were huh? What…what did she say about me?”
“She informed me that you wanted some time for yourself and didn’t want to be followed around too much. So I was thinking of taking you to Tretyakov Gallery. Do you like art?”
“That sounds spectacular actually. I don’t know much about Russian art,” Virginia said with a genuine smile. She had an extensive collection at home. She owned a few Pollacks, Basquiats, a Rembrandt, a replica of a Klimt, and was negotiating with a collector about a small rare collection of Warhols. She was more a collector of old Hollywood clothes, even owning one pair of the ruby red slippers and the striped stockings the Wicked Witch of the East wore from the Wizard of Oz. Art was a passion of Virginia’s no matter what form it came in.
“I can teach you a few things. The gallery is one of my favorite places to go. No matter how often I’m there, I find something interesting and new a
bout the pieces. Russian art always has a flare of darkness to it, no matter how whimsical. Even the art that is seemingly mundane like Ilya Repin or Karl Bryullov, but I can show you all of that when we get there. We can take a look around, and you can tell me which one you like best,” his voice danced on the air around him. Virginia couldn’t place the accent that was mixing with the Russian.
“I’m excited to see what Russian art has to offer. By the way, Dmitri, can I ask if you’re a traveler? You sound Russian, but there’s something else there that I can’t quite pick up.”
“You’re definitely not the first to ask me Virginia,” he laughed at her question. “I was born in Australia. I grew up there and lived there until I was 9. Then I moved to Russia, but not in Moscow. I went back to Australia for University, and to see my mother,” Dmitri almost sounded scripted. His words were precise; no sentence or word was askew. Everything was as perfect and dark as his slicked back hair and crisp black suit.
“Oh wow. How did your parents meet? What did you do in University? Did you always know you wanted to give people a grand Russian tour?” Virginia was on, and she didn’t know how to turn herself off again. There was something so intriguing and mysterious about him that she wanted to know everything.
“That’s a lot of personal questions. You’re going to have to at least buy me dinner first before I reveal my whole life story to you,” his eyes were on the road, but Virginia could see that he was smiling. “We’re getting close to the gallery now. It was founded in the mid 1800s. People like to say 1856 because Patel Tretyakov purchased a Schilder painting and a Kudyakov painting. He was trying to have a collection of Russian works, and by 1892 he had about 1300 paintings, over 500 drawings, and 9 sculptures.”
Carry My Baby Page 15
