by D. A. Young
Rudii worked tirelessly to open his shop while Elin prepared their home and waited for him to return every evening. The days of them being so excited to be together that they talked over each other had been reduced to quiet meals sprinkled with monosyllabic responses. Domesticity was new to her, and she was going out of her mind from boredom. Sensing her restless nature, Rudii allowed her to come to the shop with him. Elin was fascinated by the furniture-making process and inundated her husband and his three new hires with questions that they patiently answered.
He was gruff in the beginning then resigned as he comprehended that Elin would do anything to keep him talking. Her pride in him and his designs was a healing balm for the wound Ivar opened when he ripped Rudii’s pride over his honest career to shreds, along with his manhood. Gradually, he started to actually see “Elin”, the woman he fell in love with, again. In doing so, Rudii grasped that nothing had changed on her end. She still looked at him the same way she had since the first night they met.
Could she forgive him for not being enough?
Every day, they left home for work, and she tried to help out as much as her pregnancy allowed. Elin never complained about the grueling work, and the shield around Rudii’s heart thawed as he fell further in love with the beauty he’d endured nine realms of hell to keep. At night, despite his weariness, he massaged away Elin’s aches. He held her until she fell asleep, breathing in her sunflower fragrance before reluctantly slipping away to the sofa. This made Elin even more tired as she struggled to stay up needing to savor the intimacy she’d come to crave from the man she loved with her entire being.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you.”
The rusty, shame-filled declaration came unpredictably as they decided what color to use on a bookshelf for the baby’s room.
“Whatever do you mean, Rudii?” Elin asked, hope blooming anew.
She had no idea how adorable she looked to her husband with her stained overalls fighting to contain her growing belly. In lieu of a shirt underneath, she wore only her bra, exposing porcelain skin that unbeknownst to her, tempted Rudii. Despite her shiny face and her braid coming undone, Elin was glowing as she sanded the shelves, humming along to ABBA’s “Fernando”. Grasping her hands in his, Rudii kissed each of her knuckles tenderly, making her pulse race and the baby kick vigorously.
“I hate what happened to you. That I wasn’t in a position to protect you, Elin. I hate him for hurting you. I hate—”
Her fingers covered his mouth as she shook her head. “There’s been too much hate, Rudii. Your pure heart was never meant to endure it. Let it go and fill it only with thoughts of the babe. Going forward, we should focus on loving him or her. The love that we made this baby in and...”
Elin searched his face for the answer to the question she hated having to ask. She’d already proven that she wasn’t worthy of him due to her deceit. Yet, she still had to know if there was a chance for them so she could continue to fight. “The love we still have for each other?”
Her answer was the brush of his lips that turned firm and insistent as Rudii scooped her up and carried Elin to their bedroom. He slept in their bed for the first time that night and every night thereafter, through good times and bad.
***
“I’m all in, my love,” Elin promised gently.
“Since I’m retired now, maybe I could help out around here while you’re gone?” Rudii volunteered. “Oh, and don’t forget the—”
“Lingonberry jam and shortbread,” Elin and Holt ended in unison.
“They make it best at that little shop in Gamla Stan,’’ Rudii huffed at their knowing grins. “Try to swing by there and pick some up before you get back on the plane.”
“I’ll see about makin’ that happen, Dad. Why don’t you check with Guy about workin’ a few hours a day at the shop? I’m sure they’d love the extra set of hands since this trip was unexpected.”
“Trip? You’re leaving?”
They spun around to find Kat standing there rigidly, dismay written all over her lovely face.
***
Two hours earlier
Kat cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder and listened to a potential client’s concerns as she wiped down her tools. “Mrs. Cyrus, I can assure you that Vixen does provide high-resolution photography services for jewelry insurance. I email multiple angles, accurately recording your jewelry design, complete with hallmarks and markings within the rings.
In case of theft or loss, you will have detailed photography, useful for two main reasons: Firstly, you can prove the existence of your item to the insurer. Secondly, if the item has to be replicated, you will have a visual record of the design to show the jeweler that’s working on creating the replacement commission.”
Her confident answers secured the commission, and Kat hung up shortly after. A glance at her phone let her know she needed to get going if she was going to be on time to meet Holt. Making sure the outer door to her workshop was locked, Kat started unbuttoning her red and white striped pajama top as she headed toward the door adjoining to her private suite. Kat walked into her sitting room and nearly screamed when she saw Vivienne perched on her midnight-blue, tufted loveseat flipping through her daughter’s scrapbook.
Like her daughter, she kept it casual, still in her pajamas, champagne silk ones, with a makeup-free face and her hair in a simple ponytail. Except for the single strand of pearls adorning her graceful neck. Kat witnessed the laid-back attire more frequently now that her parents had reconciled. Per usual, when she saw her mother, Kat was filled with love and admiration. If her father was her heart, Vivienne Romankov was her daughter’s spine. She’d raised Kat to be gracious and kind, to stand up for herself, and to step on a disrespectful fool’s neck.
“Goodness gracious! I almost caught the Holy Ghost, Mama!” Kat squeaked, yanking her top closed, scrambling to button it back up while her mother’s head was down. “What are you doing in here?”
“Honey, you didn’t tell me you were featured in Essence and InStyle! Why is that?” Vivienne drilled her daughter. “We need to celebrate these glowing features! Let me treat you to a little girl time at the Miramar. You pick the date.”
“Isn’t it great? Sorry, Mama, I’ve just been busy trying to wrap up orders so I could devote my time to the family. I plan to keep those in my office as a visual portfolio for clients to reference.”
“Fine. I’ll pick the date.” Vivienne stood and placed the magazine back on the coffee table. “I came to see if you were going to be here for lunch.”
“No, thank you. I’m actually meeting Holt for lunch.”
“Sounds good.” Vivienne ruffled Kat’s curls on her way out. “Have fun, baby.”
Relieved, Kat fell back on her bed with her arm slung across her face. That was too close a call. If her mama had even seen the evidence of Holt’s thorough branding…Last night, Kat couldn’t stop staring in the mirror and remembering what he’d done to leave such telltale signs of his desire for her. The love marks filled her with sensual pride at wearing them and that she’d driven Holt to succumb to his desires.
Her phone rang and she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Katerina Romankov?”
The voice on the other end was a husky, imperious drawl, daring anyone to refuse its demands. Intrigued, Kat answered, “This is she. Who am I speaking with?”
“Madam Lalita.”
Kat sat up instantly and pressed a hand to her gaping mouth, in shock. Madam Lalita was a legendary goddess in the fashion world. She was boldly uninhibited with her designs and extraordinarily talented. Madam Lalita didn’t just push the envelope; she ripped it to shreds, snubbing convention at every turn. Infamous for wearing her signature turbans, caftans, and harem pants paired with lavish jewelry, she was overly dramatic, critical, and fiercely unapologetic in her views. Rumor had it that Madam Lalita refused to speak to Diane Von Furstenberg because she’d accused her of stealing the iconic wrap dress conc
ept from her.
She’d challenged the English monarch for their demure attire and once sent Queen Elizabeth a wide-brimmed hat fashioned into a nest with a faux raven atop, wings spread as to take flight, eyes made from blood-red rubies with a strand of diamonds and pearls clutched in its beak. Throughout her eminent career that spanned four decades, her background remained shrouded in mystery. Some whispered that she was a gypsy. Others insisted Madam Lalita was secretly royalty. Giving no credit to either, only further fueled the rumors.
“Are you still there, darling Katerina?” Madam Lalita’s voice brimmed with amused impatience, knowing the effect she had on people.
“Y-Yes, I am. Forgive me, Madam. I wasn’t expecting a call from a living legend,” Kat replied, fanning at her face and trying to reel in her inner fangirl. Holy sheep balls as Noelle was fond of saying. Madam-Fucking-Lalita! “I don’t know if you remember this, but we met—”
“I remember everything, my dear. It’s the reason for my call. I knew when we first met, from the way you carried yourself, that whatever you decided to do, you would be wildly successful! Nice to know that at my age, I still have that killer instinct.” She gave a bawdy laugh as if she could actually see Kat jumping up and down, pumping her fists in the air ecstatically.
“Thank you, Madam.” Somehow, she didn’t know how, but Kat managed not to faint on the spot. “I, too, am glad I didn’t let your instincts down. Forgive my bluntness, but you calling me feels completely and utterly out-of-the-blue bizarre! How may I assist you?”
This time, Madam Lalita’s laugh was softer. “I’m so glad you asked. As you know, Fashion Week is quickly approaching, and I’m close to orgasming over my latest collection! I’d planned to go with elegant jewelry to accompany it, but as that attractive Canadian rapper says, ‘Y.O.L.O.!’! I want the jewelry to complement my designs but so much more! This is my life’s passion! Do you understand my concern?”
Curiosity sparked, Kat’s mind was flickering through ideas like a Rolodex. “I believe so. You want the jewelry to reflect everything you exemplify?”
Silence.
It was so profound that Kat’s palms began to sweat.
Had she read this entire situation wrong?
“Katerina dah-ling, is it just me or do you also sense this is the beginning of a beautiful and profitable relationship?”
***
When Kat arrived at Americana Traditions, she’d been so excited that she could have picked her Fiat up and “Fred Flintstone-d” it there. In the wake of hearing the tail end of the Brammers’ conversation, her good news was forgotten, and she was left nervously clutching at the strap of her brown leather crossover purse.
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just arrived and saw you guys and thought I’d come to say hello.”
Holt’s chest fucking caved from the wounded look on Kat’s face and knowing that he was unable to keep the promise he’d made her last night. He went to her and kissed her, uncaring of those around them as he thoroughly ravaged her soft mouth. Only when his parents not-so-subtle throat-clearing and coughing grew louder did Holt unwillingly ended the kiss and press his forehead to hers.
“Darlin’, I’m sorry that you had to find out like this. My cousin Matty was attacked and he’s in a coma. I have to go to Sweden. I need to pay my respects and find out who was behind it.”
The dismay fled her face as shock set in. “Holt, that’s awful! I’m so sorry to hear that! My condolences to you and your family,” Kat sympathized, squeezing his hand. “Hej, Mrs. Brammer and Mr. Brammer.”
Elin came forward and Kat tried hard not to stare at her foot. Now that she’d been made aware of the history behind her life-altering injury, she wanted to squeeze Elin extra tight. “Dear, please! It’s Elin! No formalities for our future daughter-in-law! Isn’t that right, Rudii? I love your beret and scarf set! I would never have thought to pair that shade of green with robin’s egg blue. You’re just the cutest!”
Accepting the woman’s enthusiastic hug, Kat blushed at the title that had been bestowed upon her, wondering how much of his intentions Holt had shared with them. “If you insist. Holton just filled me in on the terrible news. If there’s anything I can do…or that you need…”
“Thank you, but you’ve been more than wonderful, Katerina,” Rudii acknowledged with a rueful smile. “Which makes me ashamed of my behavior last night. I was not dealin’ well with the unexpected visit. You didn’t deserve any of my stress and aggravation. Would you be willin’ to accept an old fool’s apology?”
Kat’s anger dissipated with his extended olive branch. “There’s nothing to forgive, sir. Let’s chalk it up to it being an off night.”
“Not all of it, though,” Holt smoothly disputed, a twinkle in his eyes. “Surely, there was at least one memorable moment that took your breath away?” Ignoring Kat’s appalled expression, he pressed on. “It’d be a cryin’ shame if nothin’ spectacularly life alterin’ happened—”
“Dear, I think you’ve made your point. The poor darling looks like she’s about to expire on the spot,” Elin noted with a bubble of laughter.
She hoped they’d marry soon. Grandbabies were on her mind. From the way Holton was looking at his girlfriend, Elin hoped it happened sooner rather than later. “Katerina, you must come by the house for dinner soon. It’s been a while since we’ve chatted. I’d love to hear how your business is going.”
“I would love too, Elin. How about I give you a call next week?”
“Sounds perfect!” Elin took Rudii’s hand. “We won’t keep you from your plans any longer. Have a good time, kids!”
Rudii grinned at them as his wife led him away. “What she said.”
“You’re horrible!” Kat groaned as soon as they left.
“Are you sure about that? Because last night you said I was ‘twisty good’?” Holt reminded her playfully, nibbling on her ear.
“Again, horrible!” she shouted loud enough to grab her brothers’ attention. With a giggle, she pushed Holt away as they came to greet her.
“Hey, brat!” Jack kissed the top of her curls and slung his arm around Kat’s shoulders. “What brings you by?”
“Hey, bubba! We’re going Christmas tree shopping. What’s ‘double-trouble’ doing here?” she asked Darby and Casey, exchanging hugs and kisses with them.
“We had us a little pow-wow bright and early then decided to stick around and help,” Darby drawled.
“Baby, I’m gonna shut my station down and go warm the truck up. I’ll be right back.” Holt kissed her once more. He didn’t stop until Jack growled at him, Casey glared, and Darby coughed loudly. With a smirk, Holt left the siblings alone.
Looking a little green, Jack frowned after him, and Kat patiently waited for their ribbing. “He’s not scared to use that tongue of his, is he?”
“That’s rich coming from the guy who once tongued his wife down on Hooligans’ dance floor to let everyone know she was unavailable. Feel free to look the other way, ‘Mr. I Licked it, Now It’s Mine’.”
“He’s a little too free with it if you ask me,” Casey huffed. “I feel like I need to be fumigated after that.”
Kat’s eyes narrowed on him. “No one should ever ask you diddly squat. Dramatic much? It was a simple kiss, not a reenactment of “9 ½ Weeks”! At least my man and I haven’t given anyone trust issues with their kids.”
“Had a couple of those bullets locked and loaded, did ya?” Darby kidded her. “Think I’ll sit this one out. She’s a one-woman firin’ squad and I want no parts of it if shots like that are bein’ fired.”
“Not only that, he still hasn’t figured out Sid’s push present yet,” she informed him with a mournful shake of her head at Casey. “Just…sad.”
“Come on! It was one innocent mistake!” Casey howled at Jack, who was giving him the preachy stare he’d perfected during their childhood. “Don’t look at me like that! You should be askin’ her why she knows anythin’ about that movie! It was way before
her time! Stop lettin’ Kat control the narrative!”
“I’m not even gonna touch that because I’m fairly certain I won’t like her answer,” Jack said adamantly, frowning at Kat, who smiled demurely. “And D.J. brought your second mistake to my attention not too long ago. Vitamin D? Seriously, Case?”
“Ewww! I say we skip the fumigating and go straight to a holy water dousing,” Kat snickered.
“Smart-ass!” Casey tugged one of her curls free from the beret, and Kat stuck her tongue out at him. “What’d you say you wanted for Christmas? An extra-strength muzzle?”
“Nope! I want Balenciaga—”
Darby feigned puzzlement. “Since when does Balenciaga make muzzles?”
Laughing, Kat punched his shoulder lightly. “Keep on and they’ll have to surgically remove my boot from your mouth, Mr. Funny Guy. Guess what?!”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Kat regretted them. Not that she didn’t want to share her news, but the timing just felt off. Instead, she opted to share the news of her latest project
“Lay it on us,” Jack encouraged, looping his arm around her shoulders.
“Brace yourself; I’m working on a titanium wedding ring inlaid with wood!”
“What?” Casey’s eyes narrowed as he tried to visualize the notion. “Very cool concept but how would the execution even work, darlin?”
“Have a little faith in me, please!” Kat pulled her phone out, opened her work app, and showed him the design explaining as she scrolled. “The wood surrounds the solid titanium band. Since the wood inlay lies within a shallow channel, it’s protected to a degree by the titanium, making it able to endure incredible wear.”
Darby whistled. “Pretty sweet.”
“And it gets even sweeter if our big brother gives the green light,” Kat wheedled, making those fucking puppy dog eyes none of them had the willpower to resist. Jack was almost convinced she’d taught it to Ruby. Except he knew that kind of witchcraft couldn’t be taught. You had to be born from it. Heaven help the opposite sex with those two.
