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 about 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 kn
ow 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.”
“Are you expected to memorize all of this?”
“I suppose. I love my country. I love my history. I guess that answers one of your questions,” Dmitri said. He was pulling up in front of a burnt orange colored building that Virginia could only assume was the gallery.
“Which question is that?” Virginia asked. She was already taking off her seatbelt to get a better look at the building. It was beautiful. Nothing like the Louvres in Paris or Alte Nationalgalerie in Berlin. Tretyakov looked like an unusual state home. It was as inviting as the man that was taking her there.
“What it was that I did in University. I majored in Art History, with specific interest in Russian art,” Dmitri parked the car and turned to smile at her. “Your tour awaits, Ms. Virginia. Please stay in your seat; I’d like to open your door for you.”
Virginia stayed put. She was still taking in all of her surroundings. She noticed that there were no other cars or patrons there, and she wondered why that was. Dmitri had come around the front of the car, and opened her door for her. He held out his hand. This time it wasn’t awkward for her to put her hand in his.
When Virginia got out of the car, she lost her balance and tumbled into his arms. Her sunglasses fell off her face, and their eyes met for the first time. Dmitri’s eyes traced the lines of her face, and moved back and forth between her eyes. Virginia felt completely exposed. She didn’t think it was possible for her to be any more embarrassed than how she had been in the hotel lobby earlier, but it was clear she was wrong.
Virginia scrambled to pick up her glasses. It made her heart race being so close to a man that she didn’t even know. She apologized for the fall, and he told her not to be silly. He had an apologetic look on his face, even though there was nothing for either of them to be sorry for. Virginia stuffed her glasses into her bag and looked around.
“Where is everybody?” she asked, looking everywhere but in Dmitri’s eyes.
“Ahh, according to the public, the gallery is closed for today. I know the curator, and I pulled some strings. When I found out that I would be taking out Shug Avery, my friend was more than happy to oblige.”
That left Virginia speechless. Dmitri was expecting her to laugh at his joke, but he cleared his throat and became rather serious when she didn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t find his joke funny. Virginia was just taken aback by the gesture. It was rare that anyone ever made arrangements to be alone with her. There would usually be paparazzi around, or she would be the one doing the romantic gestures and fitting the bill. She snapped out of her daydream immediately. He was a professional, and he more than likely would have done the same thing with whichever celebrity that happened to be in his car that day.
“Shall we?” Dmitri offered his arm to her, and she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Dmitri led her inside the grand building.
*****
“Which piece is your favorite?” Virginia asked. Dmitri had shown her some breathtaking pieces in the gallery. It was wonderful to have the place to themselves. Dmitri spoke about most of the work as if he painted or sculpted them himself. He mentioned the kinds of brushstrokes, the era of when the pieces were created, and sometimes what could have been in the artist’s mind when they were giving life to their work.
“Ahh, my favorite piece is not in this gallery. I know it’s almost treason to say, but my favorite painter is German,” Dmitri winked at her. They found a bench to sit on; Virginia sat on one side and Dmitri on the other. They were facing opposite sides of the room, but their faces were turned to face each other.
“Gustav Klimt? He’s definitely one of my favorites,” Virginia said. She had tried and failed on several occasions to get an original Klimt in her home. She was never allowed, but it was still a dream of hers.
“Klimt is from Austria, but I certainly admire his work. Unusual, and whimsical, and so full of life; even the ones that aren’t covered in gold.”
Virginia was bewitched. Dmitri knew so much about art that it more than intrigued her. Her interest was piqued. He commanded a room just by how he spoke and walked. She felt that was a trait she possessed herself based on all the attention she had received-even before the riches and fame- and it fascinated her to see someone else possess that trait. It made her want to listen to anything he had to say.
“My favorite painter is actually Caspar David Friedrich. Der Moench am Meer is a seemingly dark piece, and not one of his most impressive, but it is a favorite.”
“Wait a minute, that sounds familiar,” Virginia said.
“The Monk By the Sea. It’s quite old, and I’m sure it’s in the gallery in Berlin still…”
“Yes!” Virginia didn’t mean to cut him off, but she was excited. She remembered that painting vividly when she was in Germany. It was one of her favorites in that gallery. She couldn’t remember the painter’s name, but now she knew.
Dmitri had turned his attention to his phone. He was typing and scrolling through. He showed her the screen. It was the same painting that Virginia was thinking of. He scrolled again in silence, and showed her some more of Friedrich’s work. She was spellbound. She couldn’t get enough of the art. She could get lost in this gallery all day. She closed her eyes to take in a deep breath, not caring that she looked as if she were in a trance. Virginia was having a wonderful day.
“Are you ready?” Dmitri asked. She didn’t even notice that he was now standing. “I’d love to get you something to eat, and then I must return you to your hotel.”
Virginia didn’t try to hide her disappointment. She didn’t want to leave the gallery, but more importantly, she didn’t want to be away from Dmitri’s company. It was a breath of fresh air to just learn and talk without there being an agenda behind the words being said.
“I’m not too hungry,” she lied as she stood up. Her stomach gave her away with a low grumble. Dmitri shot her a look that made her laugh.
“I stuffed my face with fruit and ice cream before you came!” Virginia whined defensively. Dmitri shook his head and rolled his eyes at her.
“That doesn’t sound substantial. If you’re not in a rush, I’d like to take you to lunch…” he paused, waiting for Virginia to say something. In her mind she was weighing the pros and cons. “My treat?”
She was sold. No one had ever offered to pay for anything around her, not even the little things.
“Do you normally do this with your other clients?” Virginia asked. She wanted to be sure of what the boundaries were. Was Dmitri just being nice, or was there something there? Virginia could feel it, but she wanted to know if Dmitri was feeling the chemistry as well.
“Only the ones worth getting to know,” Dmitri said honestly. Virginia’s face was flushed with a sudden warmth, and she smiled at Dmitri as he turned to leave the room.
The two of them left the gallery, and back into the black SUV.
“May I ask you a personal question? You’re of no obligation to answer, but if you do, I’ll answer a personal one of yours,” Dmitri said as he drove away from the gallery. Virginia nodded her head, but eyed Dmitri suspiciously. Personal questions never ended well.
“Do you like your life?” Dmitri asked. That wasn’t the question Virginia was expecting. She wasn’t even sure what he meant, or just how to answer that. She sputtered for a few moments, like a guppy
out of water, trying to find the right words. She wasn’t even sure there were right words for a question like that.
“Well sure. I have a job that I love, I never have to worry about finances, I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty darn cute. I’m grateful, but not lucky. I worked really hard to get this far, and there’s no sign of me stopping.”
Dmitri listened intently and nodded intermittently as she spoke.
“Do you like your life?”
“All those previous options for personal questions and you choose to ask me the same one,” Dmitri laughed out loud.
“I figured since you were so interested, then maybe I can learn a little more about you.”
“Fair enough. Sure. I appreciate where I am. I meet beguiling and charming people almost every day. And the not so charming ones. But I have a chance to see the world in all its beauty, and to see how artists and others saw their worlds. I appreciate this conversation. I’m very glad it was me and not Vlad who answered the call to take you out today.”
“You are?” Virginia breathed.
“Yes. I’ve seen you on television a lot. I don’t pay much attention to media or fashion, but to see you in person. You’re so…real,” Dmitri said.
That made Virginia throw her head back and laugh. “Well thank you sugar, but I can’t help but be real.”
“I mean that a lot of celebrities nowadays; they believe they’re untouchable, or infallible. You just like to talk about all sorts of things. You see the beauty of the world in the same way that I’m curious about. You’re an artist too, and that’s beautiful to me.”
Virginia stopped smiling and turned to look at Dmitri. He was so focused on his driving now that he wasn’t even paying attention to the fact that Virginia was practically staring at him head on. She may have been the one staring, but Dmitri was the only one who was seeing Virginia for all that she truly was.
Take My Hand: BWWM Romance Page 18
