by Cher Etan
“Are you attracted to me now?” Tony asked her, lifting his head away from hers.
“Slightly,” she smirked as he covered her lips with his again.
Tony was just showing her how the cappuccino machine worked when the doorbell rang. Sophie glanced at the clock on the wall and then lifted her brow at Tony.
“Wow, who are you expecting at 6:30 in the morning? Your wife?”
Tony laughed distractedly, but didn’t stop pouring beans into the machine, “Could you go answer that for me please?”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
“Just don’t want you to think I’m trying to invade your personal space or nothing.”
“You’re not. Now go answer the damn doorbell.”
“Yes boss,” Sophie joked as she went to do that. She was almost at the door when she realized she was still in his monogrammed bathrobe but then shrugged. Whoever was on the other side would just have to get over it.
“Who is it?” she asked through the intercom.
“Roman Petrov,” a deep, gravelly voice said. That sounded suitably Russian which probably meant one of Tony’s relatives so she hit the button that would open the door and then waited the few minutes that would bring this Roman to the door. The apartment was on the second floor so it didn’t take long. Tony said he liked to take the stairs, but he wasn’t suicidal hence the choice of this floor. A knock sounded on the door and Sophie opened it, a huge smile on her face. The smile slipped a bit when she beheld the cold, steely gaze of a tall gray haired, gray eyed man with a scar zigzagging down his face. She hitched it back on and nodded at him.
“Hello,” she said, her voice shaking only slightly.
The man stared her up and down and then up again.
“Who are you?” he asked in a Russian accent.
“My name is Sophie. And you are?” Sophie asked, stretching out her hand to be shaken.
“Roman,” he replied, ignoring her hand and then walking past her into the house, “Where is my son?”
“Your s...,” Sophie began and then choked it off, looking down at her bathrobe in horror. Had she just met her possibly future father-in-law wearing his son’s bathrobe? How outré.
Roman was walking toward the kitchen with no hesitation so Sophie closed the door and followed him. Halfway to the kitchen, she changed her mind, deciding to go put on some clothes first. It was almost time for her to leave for work anyway. There was no need to get any more black marks on her name.
She changed into black pants and a black blazer with a white blouse and to add some color, a purple, orange and blue flowered scarf around her neck. She combed her short hair into a neat afro and put in her gold studs. She fished the shoes Tony had bought her out of her bag and put them on. She loved them because they were flesh colored so they went with everything. She could hear raised male voices emanating from the kitchen. It sounded like an argument was going on. The language did not sound familiar, so Sophie guessed it must be Russian they were speaking. She tip toed into the kitchen, wondering if she should just leave. She had just made up her mind to do that when Tony caught sight of her.
“Sophie. Come. Meet your future father in law,” he said. Sophie winced, shrugged inwardly and went.
“Hallo sir,” she said, still in that slightly shaky voice.
Roman Petrov gave her a cold gray stare, but said nothing. Tony growled something in Russian and Roman transferred the glare to him.
“Um Tony? I have to get to work,” Sophie stated.
“Yes. My driver will take you,” Tony offered placing a proprietary hand on her waist, “Will you have lunch with me?”
Roman said something sharp at this in Russian that made Tony glance at him, but then he turned back to Sophie, brow lifted, “Well?”
“Sure we can grab a quick lunch. I’ll leave you two to talk,” she said, heading to the rack for her coat as she picked her bag off the sofa.
Tony followed her to the door and they stopped for a minute to contemplate each other, “You didn’t even get to have a cappuccino,” he said regretfully.
“Fuggedaboudit. Another day.” She smiled at him and touched his cheek gently.
“I’m sorry about my father. He can be a douche bag,” he whispered.
“Yeah? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Samuel is waiting for you at the front door.”
“Samuel?”
“My driver.”
“I can walk you know? The office isn’t that far. It might be faster-“
“Don’t be silly. You want to walk in heels? Since when?”
“You think you know me so well.”
Tony leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips and then patted her derriere gently as he opened the door for her.
“Good luck with your dad,” she whispered as she headed out.
Tony shook himself before heading back to the kitchen and his waiting father. He couldn’t believe the bastard had just shown up like this. At the crack of dawn to boot. Who the hell did he think he was?
‘Your father, that’s who,’ a voice answered in his head. Tony grimaced and went to finish the ugly conversation they’d been having. His father had already accused him of having jungle fever. Monkeys had been mentioned. One more Sophie-related insult and he just might throw the man out of the window.
“What do you mean by this investigation you are doing on Crowley?” his father demanded as soon as he came into view again.
“What? Crowley? Who said I’m doing...” Tony began stupefied.
“Did you not hire an accountant to check his books?” Roman demanded.
Tony opened his mouth staring at his father in shock and then closed it again. What did this mean?
“What do you care about Crowley?” he asked suspiciously.
“I recommended him to you. Doubting him is doubting me.”
“So you take the redeye from Moscow to tear me a new one?”
“I come to find out what you are up to.”
“It’s my business father, not yours.”
“After what you have done to my family, you can say that to me?” Roman demanded.
Tony stared at him, feeling punched in the gut, just like his father meant him to. Would he never stop throwing the accident in his face? He turned away, heading to his room.
“Where are you going?”
“To work. Make yourself at home,” Tony said, slamming his bedroom door in his father’s face.
He stood leaning on the door, breathing deeply in and out, trying to get the anger out. All it did was concentrate it in his stomach like churning acid. Something was definitely off with his father and Crowley. A man didn’t come all this way because his honor might be impugned. Especially if that man was his father. But why would his father steal from him? All he had to do was ask if he needed anything. Not that his father ever asked for anything. If he wanted it, he took it. Entitled son of a bitch.
Tony dismissed this train of thought as unproductive and went to select one of his Savile Row suits. It was just that kind of day. He decided to think less about his father and more about Sophie. No need to bring his mood down over things he couldn’t change.
Chapter 7
Samuel walked over to the passenger side and opened the door for Sophie. She stepped out with smiling thanks. He smiled back, tipped his hat to her and wished her a good day. She returned the sentiment and then sauntered to her office building, early for once. She fished in her bag for the office key scared for a moment that she’d left it at home or at Tony’s but it was just buried at the bottom of her bag, under her iPhone. She scooped it up together with the phone and hit speed dial to call her grandfather. He picked up on the second ring.
“I’m fine darlin’. Still alive,” he said.
“Me too,” she told him smiling.
“How was your sleep over?”
“Pretty sure I’m not going to tell you that. Like, ever.”
Elijah’s laugh
came down the line filling her with warmth and love.
“Have a good day darlin’. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye,” she replied and hung up just as she reached her office door.
Her phone rang just as she reached her desk and put down her bag.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How are you?”
“You mean since I left your house no more than…oh, say, fifteen minutes ago?”
“Yes.”
“I am very good. You?”
“I’m very good too. Well I was until about 6:30 this morning.”
“How’s daddy dearest?”
“About the same as he ever was.”
“Wonderful. Is he coming to our wedding? Asking for a friend.”
Tony laughed and then said, “Wait. Did you just say yes?”
“I think we all know that a yes was happening.”
Tony whooped so loudly that Sophie had to move the phone away from her ear to avoid having her ear drums explode.
“Can we do it today?” he asked excitedly.
“Down boy. Give me a minute to buy a dress. Maybe tell my grandfather? Invite a few friends?”
“Tomorrow then.”
Sophie laughed and said her goodbyes since the office was starting to fill up. It was only after she hung up that she realized he hadn’t said whether his father would attend. It had been many years since she had had a father, but she didn’t think that Roman Petrov wanted that role in her life. He had given off a distinctly hostile vibe. She said a prayer of thanks for her own extremely friendly grandfather and got to work.
*****
Curtis got into work and dug back into the records. He had followed the money that Crowley the accountant had transacted in the last month or so. He had started from the point of sale, comparing incoming and outgoing monies. He was pretty sure that there was some skimming going on. He needed to find the final destination for the cash though before he could go to Tony with anything but he was in no doubt that stealing was happening.
Tony came in just as he was coming to this conclusion. He had a frown on his face despite the earliness of the day, which to Curtis was never a good sign.
“Good morning,” he said cautiously.
“Good morning Curtis. How is it going?”
“Well you’re definitely being robbed.”
“Yeah? No kidding.”
“And your accountant Crowley is definitely involved.”
Tony stared at Curtis, “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“I see.” Tony said picking up the phone and calling the kitchen, “Vladimir, please bring up some coffee, make it Irish and some Danish’s or waffles. Whatever’s available.”
“We have pancakes.” Vladimir told him.
“Those will do. Have Charlie bring them up to us would you? Thanks.”
“Irish coffee huh? In a Russian restaurant? Irony.” Curtis said, smirking.
Tony smiled, “Oh, by the way, Sophie and I are getting married.”
“Congratulations. You don’t think it’s all too soon?”
“One would think so but…no. It’s not.”
“Such certainty. I love that in a man.”
“So does Sophie.”
“She told you so?”
“Actually, she didn’t have to.”
“Wow, you have soul mate ESP as well. Aren’t you the lucky man?”
“I really am.” Tony said with a smirk of his own.
“To get back to the matter at hand…” Curtis said.
“Yes. Crowley is stealing from me. Got it.”
“I haven’t chased the money to its final destination, but give me a few days, and I will.”
Tony leaned back in his chair the frown back on his face, “Yes I expect you will. Don’t know if I want to know though.”
“Why not?”
Tony sighed, then shook his head, “Never mind. Continue with your work. It will take you where it takes you.”
Charlie the maitr’d walked in with a tray laden with breakfast. Curtis visibly brightened and Tony lost his frown. He set it down on the table and both men abandoned their work to tuck in. After breakfast Tony took his leave saying he had an errand to run. Curtis nodded his acknowledgment but he was already knee deep in work and didn’t look up.
Tony made his way to the car park where Samuel was just pulling up. He nodded in acknowledgment as Samuel alighted from the car and he nodded back.
“You got her to her office okay?”
“Yes sir. Do you need me to take you anywhere?”
“Yes. There is a jeweler’s shop I need to get to downtown.”
Samuel smiled, “I expect you want to get something for Sophie?”
Tony gave him a look, “Don’t tell me she has you under her spell already.”
“I don’t know what you mean sir,” Samuel winked as he opened the car door for Tony.
“Mmmhm,” Tony said cynically.
They drew up outside the jeweler’s and Tony went in as Samuel drove off to look for parking. Mr. Humboldt, the owner was working behind the counter and he looked up with a smile when Tony walked in.
“Mr. Romanov, good to see you again.” He said.
“You as well Amos. How is business?”
“Oh, you know, people are not exactly flush with cash these days, but we’re managing.”
“Yes, well. Thems the breaks huh?”
“Yes. So what can I do for you today?”
“Well, I understand you have a master craftsman working for you. I’d like to see him about a very special project I have.”
“Master craftsman?” Mr. Humboldt’s eyes almost touched his receding hairline at this news.
“Yes. He was very well known in New Orleans before Katrina. Name of Elijah Devereux?”
“Oh Elijah? Yes, he’s one of my hardest workers in spite of his age. You say he was a master craftsman?”
“Yes indeed. I’ve seen some of his work. Superb.”
“Really? It seems I had a treasure I wasn’t aware of,” Mr. Humboldt admitted.
Tony’s hand swept through the shop, “Well, I guess it’s understandable what with so many?” Amos laughed and then excused himself to go find Elijah. His head was spinning at the news that he had a craftsman of repute working in his back room. If Anton Romanov wanted him specifically, he truly must be something special.
“Elijah? Can I see you for a minute?” he called.
Elijah was knee deep in work, but he lifted his head, eyes still absent and fixed them on Amos, “Yes boss, what can I do for you?”
“There’s a man outside, asking for your particular expertise. He’s an important client so give him whatever he wants.”
“Oh? He asked for me especially?” Elijah asked curiously, removing his eyepiece.
“Yes come on, we don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Elijah hustled forward completely gobsmacked. He pushed aside the curtain that separated the back room from the shop and his eyes fell on the customer standing casually across the counter, studying rings. He almost burst out laughing when he saw who it was but managed not to.
“Hallo sir,” he said, eyes twinkling, “I understand you are in need of my services.”
“Yes,” Tony replied, “I need to formally ask for your granddaughter’s hand in marriage and I also need for you to make the rings.”
Elijah’s head went back and he studied Tony for a while, “Well, young man, this is all very sudden. When would you require these rings?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Any specific instructions?”
“Yes, I want a Belle Epoque antique Russian Diamond ring, 21 diamonds, approximately 0.83 ct TW set in silver over 14k gold. Furthermore, I want the ring to be chased with symbols of clover leaf similar to that on her engagement ring and an emerald set in the centre. Can you do it?”
“Does water flow downstream? No blood diamonds of course?” he paused for Tony’s n
od, “Do you need the stones to come from Russia?”
“I have the stones that you can re-cut.”
“This is delicate work. It might take more than a day or two.”
“Take the time you need. Not too much though. We wouldn’t want to give Sophie any time to change her mind would we?”
“Apparently we wouldn’t,” Elijah laughed. “As for my permission, I believe the expected form is for you to present for her hand in her presence. So be at the house promptly at eight tonight for my answer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I must get to work. I expect you and Mr. Humboldt can hammer out terms.”
“Indeed.”
Elijah gave him a mock salute and disappeared into the back. Amos watched him go with his mouth open in shock. He realised his mouth was open and closed it and then turned back to Tony to talk price. He had just opened his mouth to do so when Tony beat him to it.
“Do you have a piece of paper?” He asked.
“Of course,” Amos said and reached for the writing pad, sliding across to Tony.
“You can pick up the necessary jewels at this address,” he said writing it down, “This is how much I will pay, as long as Elijah gets 20% commission for actually doing the work,” he continued writing down a number.
Amos picked up the paper and studied the number for a moment. Then he looked up with a smile on his face and said, “You have a deal Mr. Romanov. And congratulations on your upcoming marriage.”
“Thank you Amos. I will see you soon., Tony said as he left the shop. He fished out his phone to call Samuel to pick him up.
“Where to now Mr. Romanov?” Samuel asked as he settled Tony into the back seat.
“Vera Wang.”
“Shall I call ahead to let her know we are on the way?”
“Do that,” Tony said as his own phone rang. It was Curtis, Tony saw with trepidation. Was this it?
“Hello,” he said.
“Tony. I have some good news or bad news depending on how you see it.”
“You found the final destination.”
“I have.”
“And?”
“It’s a bank. In Russia. Registered to a co-operation.”
“What is the name of this co-operation?”
