by Jessica Hope
“Asshole,” she muttered as she turned away. Still, she’d kept the door open, and he took the opportunity to step inside. When he’d picked her up the other evening for their outing, he didn’t bother looking inside. Normally, he’d avoided this part of town. But he was pleasantly surprised to see that their apartment was decorated sparsely but still cheerfully. Somehow, it seemed to suit her.
“I’m sorry,” he said helplessly. Now that he was inside, he didn’t really know what to do.
“I would have thought you had a higher opinion of me,” she said wryly. Her eyes watered and she sniffed. “I don’t run from my problems.”
His eyes widened in panic. “Please don’t cry. I’m a fool.”
Melinda snorted. “I’m not crying, Vlad. I’m sick. And if you stay much longer, you’ll be sick. Now that you know that I’m not lying to you, feel free to leave,” she muttered as she nodded her head to the door.
Turning, he was suddenly struck by a thought. She wasn’t feeling well, and that made him not feel well. He should walk away, but he wanted to do something helpful. “Have you eaten?”
“What?’ she stared at him.
“Have you eaten? It’s important that you keep up your strength while you fight your illness. If you would like, I’d be happy to go across the street and get you some soup.”
“You’re going to get me soup?”
He hesitated. “You’re right. That’s not good enough. I’ll get some ingredients. Give me just a few minutes.” Smiling, he was out the door just as she started to say something.
Twenty minutes later, he was unloading bags in the kitchen. Melinda leaned against the doorframe as she stared at him. “You need all of that for soup?”
“Well, it appears that you might be sick for a while. I thought I’d make a few meals for you that you could warm as the week passes. Brandon told me a few American comfort foods that you might like, and I’ve looked up their recipes. Chicken noodle soup. Chicken and dumplings. Chicken and rice. It seems that chicken is a staple for when you’re not feeling well.”
“Vlad,” Melinda rasped. “I don’t need you to cook for me.”
He looked over and smiled at her. She seemed to be holding on to the frame for dear life, and he quickly crossed the kitchen. “Hey. Let’s get you back on the couch,” he said softly.
Her skin was clammy as he linked her fingers with his and gently led her across the living room. Once she was down on the couch, he pulled a blanket over her and pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re running a fever. Have you been to the doctor?”
She coughed. “No insurance. Not that it matters. Nothing some Tylenol and rest won’t fix.”
He reached for the bottle of pills and her water and forced her to take another dose. She coughed a bit more, but once she swallowed, she lay back down and closed her eyes. “Sleep, my sweet,” he whispered. He felt strange as he watched her eyes flutter close.
Here she was, completely unable to satisfy him physically, and yet he found himself unable to leave her side. When her chest moved up and down in a rhythmic pattern, he crept into the kitchen to finish prepping her meals.
He heard the door open, and he peered around the doorframe. “Still feeling sick, baby?” He saw her roommate press her hand on her forehead.
“I’m prepping some meals in here,” he said softly. What was her name? Tori? Tori looked up, shocked.
“Wow. You must be Victor.”
“Did she say something about me?” he asked curiously.
The beautiful blonde smiled. “You mean like how you tried to seduce her in a bondage club, scare away a new suitor, and fucked her brains out in the office?”
Vlad winced at her harsh language. “I wasn’t trying to seduce her, I didn’t know it was a bondage club, Stephen is dangerous, and what we did in that office was—“ he faltered.
“Was what?” Tori said as she crossed her arms. “Look, you’re in her apartment making her food and looking after her. That’s not what you do for a one night stand.”
Vlad straightened. “I never meant for it to be a one night stand.”
Tori winked. “Then you have to do it again. And then, my friend, she’s your lover. Look, Melinda is very disciplined in almost all areas of her life. I can’t even remember the last man that she took to bed, so if she’s sleeping with her boss, then there is something major going on with her. If you hurt her, then I will be your worse nightmare.”
Vlad couldn’t help but smile at her. “Noted.”
Tori passed him. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
Melinda hadn’t even moved during their conversation. He found a washcloth in the bathroom, ran it under cold water, and placed it on her forehead. Vlad wasn’t nearly as discerning when it came to his women. If they were beautiful, he made sure he had them. But never had he felt compelled to take care of a lover when they were sick.
It terrified him.
***
Melinda was still sick a couple of days later, so Vlad made sure her shift was covered. And it was almost too convenient for him because that meant that she wasn’t anywhere near the club when Harry Hawthorne sat uncomfortably in the high VIP lounge.
“Mr. Hawthorne,” Vlad said softly. “I imagine you would not be here if you hadn’t found something.” He offered the private detective a drink, but Harry just waved it away. Vlad knew that Harry didn’t like working for him. Few men did.
“Gregory was buried without an autopsy. Stephen insisted on it, so there’s no way to prove that he was drugged. However, I have proof that his will was changed just before he died. Before, he’d left everything to his only son, but a few days before he died, he’d changed it so that things were split among several people and Stephen would get nothing. His lawyer said he wanted to sit on it before signing it, and of course, he died before he got around to it. So there’s your motive. Several poisons will mimic a heart attack, and I’m combing through his receipts, but I doubt I’ll find a paper trail.”
Vlad nodded and stared out the window. Below him, people were dancing and drinking and completely unaware of the war that was brewing in their very own city. In this very domain. They were so unaware of the damage that was inflicted with their money. All they wanted was a good time. And people like Gregory paid the price.
Vlad was no saint, but he was tired of this life. He was tired of these games. He could never even begin to undo all the wrong that he’d done, but he’d find vengeance for his friend. “Where do we go from here?”
“From here I start checking out local hospitals and pharmaceutical companies, and I start digging into his right-hand men. If any quantities of medicine are missing, I’ll start there. It’s unlikely that Stephen did his own dirty work, but I don’t want to rule anything out. It seemed he held quite a grudge against his old man. It wouldn’t surprise me if he personally delivered the fatal dose.”
“Father’s can be cruel to their sons,” Vlad said as he thought painfully of his own father. “But Gregory loved his son. His only fault was that he let his son run amuck when he should have leashed him at an early age. Do what you have to do. Work quickly, but keep in mind that price is no option.”
Harry nodded and rose. “Just to be clear, when I’m finished with this, we’re done. My debt is cleared.”
Vlad turned and stared at his old friend. “Where did we go wrong, Harry? When did it become all about debts rather than favors?”
“You know when it went wrong. I would have washed my hands of you long ago had you not saved my life,” Harry said with sad eyes.
Harry was just one more friend that Vlad had lost on his journey. It broke his heart when he thought of that night, so he pushed it out of his head. “We’re even.”
The relief in his eyes was evident as he turned and walked away. “Danny. I’m going out. Can you close up again?”
“Playing house calls again?”
Even though the static of the headset, Vlad could hear the disapproval in his friend’s voic
e. Eventually, even Danny would tire of him. “I just need to clear my head.”
Something inside him had changed, and he began weighing the pros and cons of leaving. Usually, the cons outweighed the pros but lately, the angel on his shoulder was winning.
Chapter Eight
It took another two days before Melinda was back on her feet again. She counted the bottles of liquor and doodled on her sheet. Everyone was feeling better, and things were running smoothly. She was almost bored tonight, and she began thinking of more themes. Having the girls swing from the ceiling would be fun, but swingers night might lead to more trouble than was worth. She scratched out the idea.
“It’s funny how Vlad has been missing these past few days,” Chelsea said as she swaggered by. “It almost makes me wonder if you were really sick. After all, you didn’t have a doctor’s note.”
Melinda struggled not to roll her eyes. “I didn’t have a doctor’s note because I don’t have insurance. Besides, what pussy goes to the doctor for a cough and a fever?”
“So you haven’t seen Vlad while you were out?” Chelsea narrowed her eyes as she studied Melinda’s face. The jealousy was evident. Chelsea didn’t just want her job. She also wanted Vlad.
“I’ve been laying on the couch coughing and blowing my nose for the past week. I haven’t been out dallying with the boss,” Melinda snapped. She was telling the truth. She and Vlad hadn’t gone out anywhere, but he’d stopped by several times to check on her. He’d prepared her food, played some board games with her until she fell asleep, and even rented a movie. She was surprised that he wasn’t sick. The man must have an iron immune system.
But she didn’t want to give Chelsea any reason to be suspicious. The last thing she needed was rumors to start flying.
Even if they were true.
Some shouts drew her attention to the register. Danny was with a large man, and he was exchanging funds in the register, and some of the guests were drunkenly complaining. She watched as Danny said a few words to the man, and he quickly quieted.
But Melinda wasn’t concerned about the guest. Who was the strange man that was counting the money from the register? She watched as he pocketed a few of the bills, nodded to Danny, and walked away. Danny said a few words to the bartender and quickly ran behind the guy. Melinda wasted no time as she approached Josh. “What was that all about?”
Josh shrugged. “I don’t know. Every now and then, Danny will take money out of the register. Mr. Petrovich never says anything, and I assume with the cameras that he knows. I don’t ask questions.”
Was Danny stealing from Vlad? That seemed absurd. Vlad had eyes and ears everywhere in this bar, so it didn’t seem possible that Danny would get away with it. So what the hell was going on?
“Ms. Jones.”
Melinda whirled around to see Vlad lounging from the bar. “Mr. Petrovich,” she said as she straightened. “How can I help you?”
“I see that you’re feeling better. If this shift is too much for you, feel free to leave early.”
She could see the open concern in his eyes, even as he spoke so formally to her, and she glanced around to make sure that Chelsea wasn’t watching. The truth was that she did feel a little run down, but she’d spent a week on a couch. “I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”
He smiled knowingly. “Of course. Have you spoken to Josh and Chelsea about our little idea?”
Melinda nodded. “We’re going to meet next Monday to toss some more ideas about, and then we’ll present the new drinks and theme ideas to you.”
“Wonderful. I look forward to your thoughts. Please see me before you leave. I have some ideas of my own.”
Melinda swallowed hard as he walked away. In the few days that he’d spent with her, he never mentioned that night in the office, and he never touched her in a sexual manner. Not that it mattered. Even when she was sick, she was turned on by him. It was ridiculous.
Did he want an encore? She felt her fingers tremble just thinking about it, and she hurried to finish counting the inventory.
The club emptied out quickly. She wasn’t sure who was left, but she didn’t pass anyone on the way to Vlad’s office. She knocked on the door and pulled off her headset. It opened, and Danny blinked at her.
“Late night?”
She smiled. “I’m afraid I’m still a bit slow with my cough. I just needed to turn this in.” She handed the set over and turned to leave.
“I need a word, Ms. Jones. Danny, will you please excuse us?” Vlad’s voice filtered from the office, and Melinda’s stomach flip-flopped. God, he was still here.
And you want your legs wrapped around him again, a voice taunted her. She ignored it as Danny rolled his eyes and stepped away. Vlad nodded to the door. “Close it, please.”
Nervous, Melinda shut it and turned to him. He didn’t move from the desk to touch her, but he did have a predatory gleam in his eye. “I’m glad that you’re feeling better.”
She nodded. “I’m also glad that I feel better. And I should thank you. I think that soup did the trick.”
“Excellent.” He drummed his fingers on the desk and cocked his head. “I was thinking perhaps that we would try the Americana Grill. It seems to be all the rage in the city, and I’m interested to see how a five-star restaurant could still be considered a grill.”
“No offense, Mr. Petrovich...”
“Vlad,” he reminded her. “When we’re alone, it’s Vlad.”
She sighed. “No offense Vlad, but I don’t think Seven has a grill feel to it. I don’t think you’ll find any ideas there. But you should still go. It’s delicious.”
He looked up sharply. “You’ve been?”
She nodded. “I had a date there right when it opened. The food was great. The date was not.” Smiling tentatively, she turned to the door.
“Have you been to Luigi’s? The food there is absolutely magnificent.”
Melinda glanced over her shoulder. He seemed oddly nervous. “I have not,” she said slowly.
“Excellent. You have Thursday night off. We’ll go then,” he said decisively. She watched him write something down, and her eyes narrowed. She sashayed to the desk and leaned over it.
“Vlad. Dante may have been Italian, but I don’t think a five-star restaurant will give you the ideas you want,” she said softly.
He looked up, and she knew that he could see straight down her shirt. His pupils dilated. “It’s not for a theme.”
“So you want me to go to dinner with you.”
Leaning back against his chair, he surveyed her with interest. “I believe I made that clear.”
“No, you did not. You asked me if I’ve been somewhere, and when I said no, you decided that we would go. What I think you meant to do was ask if I would like to go with you.” She kept her voice soft as she stared at him. “Vlad. If you’re going to take me on a date, then you need to ask me out first.”
“I never called it a date. I can go have dinner with a …friend,” he said as he leaned back over.
Feeling bold, she pushed his papers off the desk and climbed up so that she was on all fours. “You fucked me in this office a week ago. You made me food when I was sick, and now you want me to go to dinner with you. We’re past the friend stage.” Her mouth was inches from his, and she leaned over and captured his lips. At first he didn’t respond, but when her tongue touched his lips, he moaned and opened for her.
As his hands came up to touch her, she backed off quickly and slid off the desk. “Ask me on a date. Otherwise, I’m not going.”
He smiled. “You are a vixen. Melinda, will you have dinner with me Thursday night?”
“I will. Bring flowers and tell me that I’m pretty,” she said with a wink as she turned away.
As she touched the doorknob, he chuckled. “It would have been much easier had you just pretended that this was a friendly arrangement. We may both know that it is not, but it would have made it that much easier for you to walk away. But now you’ve forced m
e to comply with conventional courting methods. And I warn you Melinda, you may be getting more than you can handle.”
He was right. What the hell had she been thinking? So long as they pretended this wasn’t a relationship, she could put a stop to it and go on with her life. What had possessed her to force him to admit the truth? Still, she’d come this far. If she backed down tonight, her display of power would mean nothing. And she hated giving up power in a relationship. So she tossed her head and gave him her most seductive smile.
“Baby, you have yet to see what I can handle,” she said coyly. She heard him inhale sharply, and she laughed as she exited the room. It turned out that she enjoyed playing with fire.
Chapter Nine
“What did you do before the club?” Melinda asked as she sipped her wine. Vlad sat across the table that was lined with a white tablecloth. The candle between them flickered, and she struggled to pretend like rich men took her out to places like this all the time. In truth, it would have cost her a day’s salary just to have dinner here.
She was all for female independence, but God, she hoped that he was paying.
“I was in Russia until I was twenty, and then I worked for my family for a few years. We had a few business up North that I bounced around until I saved enough money to open Seven,” he said vaguely.
Melinda frowned. He’d been oddly vague about all of her questions all night. But then, Vlad was a private man. Whatever this was between them, it clearly wasn’t enough for him to provide intimate details about his past.
The waiter stopped by the table and bowed slightly. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Petrovich?” Vlad looked at Melinda expectantly. “Is there anything else you’d like, my dear?”
His dear. As far as first dates went, this one was going pretty well. She smiled and shook her head. “No thank you. Everything was delicious.”
“Excellent. Please put everything on my card with a forty percent tip.” “Very good, sir. Thank you.”
Melinda raised her eyebrows. A forty percent tip? Impressive. “Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious. I’ve never been anywhere quite like this before.”
