by Marie Astor
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Here you are.” Dennis handed Mila her drink.
“Cheers!” Mila exclaimed, clinking her glass against Dennis’s beer. “To new friends.”
“To new friends.”
Mila took a long swallow of her drink. “Mmm, delicious. So Dennis, how long are you in town for?”
“For about two weeks, maybe longer. I needed a change of scenery, and one of the perks of being a freelancer is that I can take off whenever I want as long I have enough in my bank account to pay the bills. Plus with Grandma’s birthday coming up, I had the perfect excuse to come up.”
“Needed a change, huh? Let me guess, is it a broken heart?”
“Just needed a break.” Dennis took a swig of his beer and looked into the distance.
He could sense Mila edging closer to him, her hand almost brushing against his. He took a step sideways; physical contact was where he drew the line. Whoever was it that invented the myth about men craving sex more than women? Every single woman he’d ever flirted with, apart from Janet, had been eager to jump into his bed. Then again, maybe it had to do with the kind of women he used to date, but he was with Janet now, and there was no information source important enough for him to jeopardize that. Dennis glanced at his watch. “I almost forgot about Grandma’s party. I’ve got to get going now, or Janet will have my head.”
Mila gulped down the rest of her drink. “We’d better get going then. Wouldn’t want to keep you away from Grandma.”
Mustn’t overdo it, Dennis thought, aware of the clipped notes in Mila’s voice. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to get your boyfriend jealous,” he added.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“No? Well, in that case would you like to join me tomorrow for an aimless walk around the city?”
“Sounds tempting, but I have to work.”
Damn, Dennis thought, she’s really pissed. Come on, think. You’ve got to draw her out again.
“How about the day after?” Mila offered.
“Now I have something to look forward to.”
“So do I.”
***
Mila opened the door of her apartment and listened intently. Anton said he wouldn’t be back until late at night, but she wanted to be sure she wouldn’t be in for an unpleasant surprise. Reassured by the quiet inside the apartment, Mila walked inside. She kicked off her shoes and sprawled out on the couch, putting up her feet on the reading table. Her apartment: she could hardly call it that. It was Anton’s apartment, and she lived there because she had to; because he had something of hers that she wanted back.
There was the sound of the key turning in the front lock. Anton was home early. Mila slid her feet off the table; Anton always gave her crap about it being unladylike. As if he knew anything about manners to begin with.
“Mila! You’re home?” Anton’s gruff voice carried from the foyer. The man acted as though he couldn’t live a moment without her. Some would say it was true love, but Mila knew better.
“Hi, honey! Over here,” she called out.
“What have you been doing all day? Have you been a good girl?” Anton walked towards her.
“I’ve been a good girl,” Mila purred. Anton hated it when she went out without him. Suddenly, she remembered that she’d left her bag in the foyer. “I’ve missed you.” She dangled her leg suggestively, hoping that the prospect of sex would dim Anton’s attention.
It almost worked. Anton’s face assumed a bovine expression that it always did whenever he was horny. He reached for Mila, but stopped midway. “What’s your bag doing on the floor?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting in suspicion.
“My bag?” Mila asked innocently. “I don’t know. It must’ve fallen on the floor. I didn’t even see it. I’ve been on this couch all day, waiting for you,” she added.
“I’m here now.” Anton grinned.
After it was over, Anton rolled off of her and stumbled out of bed, heading for the study. Usually, he always took a nap after sex, but apparently, some pressing matter took precedence over his habit. Of course he wasn’t telling Mila what it was; he never did.
Mila listened intently, wondering what Anton was up to. She had taken a tremendous risk today going out with that Dennis character; if any of Anton’s acquaintances had spotted her, she would’ve been dead, literally so. Anton was, after all, a Kovar. Which was why she had opted for the Metropolitan Museum; Anton’s cohorts wouldn’t be caught in that part of town. Their idea of a good time ended with a good steak accompanied by a good drink; anything beyond that was gibberish. She just wished the outing had been more productive. Usually men went gaga over her, but not Dennis. Perhaps he was just playing it cool, but he had shown about as much excitement about her as a fish would over a bicycle. Sure, he was polite and all, but in many ways his stifled politeness had made it worse, making Mila feel as though she was throwing herself at him. Not that she was interested in Dennis; she was done being interested in men, period. She was interested in his skills: if he wasn’t bragging, he was good with breaking into computers and safes, which was exactly what she needed.
Mila got out of bed and crept towards the study. She hovered by the door; Anton was on the computer, staring at the screen intently. Mila walked towards him and felt a chill run down her spine. The screen had a snapshot of his bank account and the balance was ten million dollars.
“Mila, what are you doing? I told you not to come in here.”
“I was just going to make a snack and I wanted to ask you if you wanted anything.” Mention of food usually put Anton in a good mood.
“Yes, make me a sandwich, you know, the way I like it. Now get your behind out of here.”
“Coming right up.” Mila didn’t even blink; she had gotten used to being trampled on. As she padded out of the room, she saw Anton log off from the bank screen and place a small rectangular object into the safe: it was a bank-issued electronic token that provided the security log-in codes. Until she could find a way to get access to Anton’s bank account, she would just have to keep swallowing her pride.
Mila swung open the Sub-Zero and plunked the cold cut containers on the counter. Anton’s favorite sandwich consisted of prosciutto, some kind of dried sausage with enough paprika to set one’s mouth on fire, bacon, Swiss cheese, mayo, and pickles. She slapped the ingredients onto pumpernickel bread (Anton was very particular about his bread) and laid the sandwich on a plate, garnishing it with cherry tomatoes. Then, she opened a bottle of beer and set it all on the granite counter. For herself she opened a container of fat free yogurt and nibbled on it, perching on the counter stool. She was too angry to have any appetite.
“Ah, beautiful! Just the way I like it.” Anton’s eyes lit up greedily at the sight of the sandwich. He took a large bite and chewed noisily, washing the food down with his beer. “You’re only having a yogurt?”
“I’m not very hungry.”
“Good. Keep that slim figure of yours.”
Mila shoved another spoonful of yogurt into her mouth to keep herself from giving Anton a piece of her mind. God, how she hated the man.
“What’s this?” Anton poked at the cherry tomatoes.
“Tomatoes,” Mila replied matter-of-factly.
“I told you I don’t eat that garbage!” Despite eating like a pig, Anton managed to have a hot body; even Mila couldn’t deny that he was ripped.
“These are different.” Mila grabbed one of the tomatoes and holding it between her index finger and her thumb, sucked on it sensually. “Mmm, that tastes good.”
Anton grinned, his eyes fixed on her lips. “That’s right, you eat them. Vegetables are good for you, Milochka; a good diet to keep you young and pretty for me.”
Mila swallowed the bits of the tomato and kept her mouth shut. One day, she’d kick Anton’s ape ass.
“So,” said Anton after he finished the last piece of the sandwich, licking his fingers, “I’m going to be away for about three days. Maybe more. Are you goi
ng to be a good girl while I’m gone? Or do I need to send someone to watch you?”
Mila’s heart started racing. This was an unexpected boon. Anton had never left her alone in the apartment for more than a few hours. “I’ll be a good girl,” she said evenly.
“Because you know that I’ve got my ways of keeping an eye on you. If you’re being bad, I’ll know. You’re not going to do anything foolish, like try to run away from me?”
“Why would I run away from the man I love?” Mila said in a low, husky voice. She grabbed another cherry tomato from Anton’s now empty plate and sucked on it for emphasis.
Anton’s expression became that of smug satisfaction. “That’s right. I’m good to you; we’re good for each other. You’ve got everything you need here: hot sex, roof over your head, food, clothes. All your needs are answered for.”
Mila nodded, thinking that now was not the right time to bring up her slaving away at Panther.
“I keep your money safe; well, your ex-boyfriend’s money, but it’s yours now.” Anton reached for a box of toothpicks that he always kept on the counter and popped one into his mouth. He sucked on a toothpick meditatively. “You’ve got a pretty good deal going here. Your ex-boyfriend is in jail now; if the cops knew about you, they’d get on your tail in no time and take the money.”
Mila touched Anton’s hand. “I know.” She cursed the day she had gotten the dumb idea of calling up Anton Kovar and asking him for protection. She remembered the moment with crystal clarity; she had just learned about David Muller’s arrest, and her world was instantly turned upside down. At the time, she had just met Anton through her job at Panther. His attention flattered her. She knew about his powerful uncle and thought she would be able to use her charms on Anton to get what she needed, just like she had with David, but no such luck. Anton had taken her in with open arms and promised to give her protection. He used his network of offshore accounts to transfer David’s money before the authorities could seize it, but when Mila asked him about transferring the money into her own account, he merely laughed, saying that she’d get caught like a kid with her hand in a cookie jar. In the beginning he used to at least feed her promises of giving the money back to her when it “became safe”, but now he no longer even bothered. Of course she could have run away; she had saved enough money to pay for an airfare to Prague, but it wasn’t nearly enough money to hide from a man like Anton. So she became his slave, eager to convince him of her obedience, hopeful that one day, when Anton wasn’t looking, she’d make her escape. Once she got her hands on David’s money, she’d change her name and disappear forever in some remote corner of the world where no man would ever lay a claim on her.
“But what am I saying? You’re a smart girl. You wouldn’t leave me.” Anton’s eyes narrowed. “Because if you did, I’d go to the end of the earth to find you.”
Mila stared unflinchingly into Anton’s burrowing eyes. “I’d go to the end of the earth to find you, my love, if we were ever separated.”
Anton patted her butt. “My Milochka. I know I can trust you.”
“When are you leaving?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to pack your suitcase?”
“No, I’ll do it myself.”
“I’ll be counting every minute until your return.”
Chapter 10
On his way to Janet’s apartment, Dennis picked up a Milk-Bone for Baxter, a bottle of champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, and a bouquet of white lilies—Janet’s favorite flowers. Even though she had said that she was all right with the whole Mila thing, he suspected that Janet wasn’t happy about it in the least, and frankly speaking neither was he, especially since the controversial rendezvous had not produced the expected results. He had hoped that he would get further along, but Mila was one tight-lipped broad.
Of course there were other ways to get information out of Mila. Dennis could ring up his buddy at the immigration bureau and tinker with her visa, or he could bluff her into providing information by saying that there was direct evidence of her aiding Muller to hide the stolen funds. He didn’t want to employ the nuclear options just yet, reasoning that Mila would be much more forthcoming if he managed to gain her trust. Unfortunately, in order to gain her trust, he’d need to see more of Mila, and he was fairly certain that Janet wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea. Truth be told, he could hardly blame her. He didn’t even want to think about how he would react if the shoe were on the other foot.
Dennis was so deep in his thoughts that he had almost walked past Janet’s building. He checked his watch: six o’clock, sharp. At least he was on time. He really didn’t need to give Janet another reason to be mad at him. His plan was to let Janet vent and then mollify her with champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, and sex. If by some miraculous chance of fate Janet wouldn’t be holding any grudges, it would simply be a nice surprise. He walked inside the building, exchanged a friendly hello with the doorman, and headed for the elevator.
The elevator doors opened and Dennis walked out into the hallway. He took special care to walk extra quietly past Janet’s neighbor’s door. In his opinion, Mrs. Chapman was either playing the piano, singing opera tunes or collecting gossip on the building’s inhabitants. Right now, there was no sound of piano chords coming from behind her door, so Dennis worried about the latter.
“Dennis, how are you?” Janet’s neighbor, Mrs. Chapman, poked her head through her door just as Dennis was about to ring Janet’s doorbell.
“Fine, Mrs. Chapman, and how are you?” Dennis replied politely. Janet thought the world of Mrs. Chapman, but personally, Dennis thought she was an old gossiper. Although he did agree that she was useful for always being ready to babysit Baxter.
“Fine, thank you. Those are beautiful flowers.”
“They are Janet’s favorite.”
“Oh, is there a special occasion?”
“A man doesn’t need a special occasion to bring his girlfriend flowers.”
“Right you are. My late husband used to buy me flowers all the time, and now my boyfriend does. Did Janet tell you that I have a boyfriend? We met at the community center mixer.”
“No, she didn’t. He must be one lucky fellow.”
“Dennis, you’re a flirt.”
“Just speaking the truth. Oh, and I wanted to thank you again for taking such good care of Baxter. Janet really appreciates that.”
“It’s no problem, no problem at all. He’s such an adorable dog. Well, I’ll let you go on to your lovebird. I have to get back to my rehearsing. Toodles.” Mrs. Chapman twirled her fingers. A few moments later, piano chords erupted from behind her door.
“Toodles,” Dennis grunted, pressing the doorbell. The old gasbag had made him late, and now he was really going to get it. Dennis heard Baxter’s delighted barking on the other side of the door and smiled; at least he could always count on Baxter for being happy to see him.
Janet opened the front door and stood on the threshold with her arms crisscrossed on her chest. “You’re late,” she observed, completely ignoring the flowers.
“I was on time when I got here,” Dennis retorted, making his way inside the apartment. “That old biddy Mrs. Chapman made me late.”
“Shh!” Janet hissed. “She could hear you.”
“I doubt it. I can barely hear myself with all that piano playing.”
“I like Mrs. Chapman,” Janet snapped.
“I know you do.” Dennis bent down to pet Baxter who had been jumping up and down like a tennis ball. “Hello buddy, I missed you too. Here’s a little treat for you.” Dennis gave Baxter the Milk-Bone.
“He’s not supposed to get treats before dinner. You’ll spoil his appetite.”
“It’s just a Milk-Bone. It’s good for him. It’s got vitamins and stuff.”
Janet rolled her eyes. “He already likes you more than me.”
“Can you put these in the water?” Dennis handed her the flowers.
“Is
that your plan? To cajole me with flowers and spoil Baxter with treats?”
“I also got champagne and chocolate covered strawberries,” Dennis added, placing both on the kitchen counter.
Janet took the flowers and walked inside the kitchen. She grabbed a vase and began filling it with water. “Bribery doesn’t work on me.”
“Well then, I’ll try other means,” he murmured, hugging her from behind and nuzzling her neck.
“Stop it, Dennis. I have to put the flowers in the water.”
“They can wait.”
Janet ducked away from him and put the flowers in the vase. She turned around and faced him. “Tell me how it went.”
Dennis sighed. “All right, but first let me at least put the champagne in the fridge.”
“I’ll do it.” Janet put the champagne away.
“I got chocolate strawberries too,” Dennis added in a wild hope.
“My favorite. Great, we’ll have them after dinner, which we’ll have right after you tell me how the date with Mila went.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Fine, an undercover date.”
“We walked around Central Park—”
“Ah, she went for the atmosphere. I thought she was going to take you to Times Square or the Empire State Building.”
“Do you want to hear how it went or do you want to make comments?”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“She’s definitely hiding something. I could sense it from how tense she was, constantly on guard. She seemed to be very interested in my job; she kept asking if I was good with computers. I think there’s more to it, but I’ll need more time to ferret it out of her.”
“In other words you agreed to see her again?”
