Perfect Opposite (2 page)

“You know
... We could arrange Tyler falling into someone’s fist one of these days. I know some people who could kick his ass...” he winked at me and disappeared behind the bar.

A bitter smile started to play on the corners of my mouth, but I shrugged it off and reached for my laptop and books from the bag. Good old Paolo has always been kind of protective towards me, but he had no idea that if I wanted to, I could fix it so that Tyler was wiped off the face of the earth in a matter of hour
s. His people ‘who could kick ass’ were baby bunnies compared to people I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life with.

I set the books down on the table in front of me, took a sip of the lemonade Paolo fixed, and got down to writing my paper. My assignment was to analyze the meaning of the colors
Wassily Kandinsky used in his pictures. I wasn’t really a big fan of modern art, and if I could have chosen the topic myself I'd have dealt with one of the stars of the French romantic scene. To my disappointment, one of my least favorite compatriots finished up as my subject.

I was engrossed in downloading the necessary info from the web when I heard a message ping on my cell. Still deep in thought, I picked it up from the table and stared for a few seconds at the unknown number on the screen. The fact the caller was unknown was enough to tell me who the message was from. Only one person sent messages from unfamiliar numbers.

PARK BEHIND UNIVERSITY 7 p.m. – it said.

“Oh great
.” I muttered under my breath, snapped the phone shut and threw it in the bag.

P
icking up the books and laptop quickly, I swung the bag over my shoulder and started for the door.

“You’re leaving already?” Paolo shouted after me.

“Something's come up. See you Saturday then?”

“Of course.
I'm coming for you and Beth at ten. Be sure and eat well before we go, ‘cause we all know what happens when you drink on an empty stomach.” he grabbed himself by the throat and pretended to throw up.

“Stop it! That was a one off! Are you
gonna rub my nose in it forever?”

“There now... I know. That was the night when you gave Tyler the boot because he...oops...
”, he quickly moved his hand across to cover his mouth in remorse, “I'm sorry, I let it slip. I promise not to mention a certain person any more.”

“And you’d better not!” I smiled when I saw his glum expression, blew him a kiss and stepped out into the street.

I caught a cab and as we drove, I used the opportunity to call Beth, but of course she wasn’t picking up, so I left a message.

“Hey, just to let you know, I’ll be late tonight. Got to go and pick up a book I left in class.”

Leaning back in the seat, I looked out of the window, praying to God that Beth didn’t plan on playing chef again that night. I’ve never been skilled in the culinary arts, but at least I didn’t pretend that I am and risked involuntary manslaughter, like she did. Beth was like a sister to me, but if she had it in mind to make me eat one of her creations again tonight, she’s got another thing coming!

When I moved into an apartment at the start of last summer, I looked for a roommate from the get go
because I couldn’t imagine living alone in such a vast space. It took up the entire top floor of a downtown building and at least three people could have lived there in comfort, without even seeing each other from day to day. After almost a month of vetting potential roomies, I was almost ready to give up and try going solo when Bethany showed up. At first, overdressed and super-chatty, the tall leggy blonde with her leopard prints took me by surprise. And yet I decided to give her a chance, which turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life.

Our characters were different for sure, but it was fascinating
how well we functioned together and we soon became inseparable. I felt us to be something akin to magnetic poles, canceling each other out. When I erupted, Beth put out the fire. When she fell into a funk, I’d make her laugh and needle her out of bed with a few playful, sarcastic comments. If I had a problem, she was the first one I’d go to for advice and I never met a person who knew how to listen as well as Beth. Even if she didn’t agree with some of my decisions, the opinions she gave were always honest and without reproach.

For that very reason, there were times when I cam
e close to laying my heart bare and sharing my whole story, but I’d always hold back in the end because I didn’t want to put her in danger by telling her too much. I drew a line between my past life and my new one for the good of the people around me. Beth never insisted that I tell her where I’d been or what I was doing before I enrolled at university and I was truly grateful to her for that.

I was startled out of my reverie when the taxi swu
ng over to the sidewalk by the university building. Giving the driver a bill, I got out of the car and set off towards the park behind. Despite the fact that the sun went down, the concrete still gave off a heat that made the air feel heavy.

I caught sight of him then, sitting on a bench with his back to me, head tilted slightly on one side, gazing out over the pond in front of him. Every time he summoned me like this I felt I entered the cast of characters in some second-rate spy thriller.

In his expensive dark pants and gray designer shirt he looked the very model of sophistication. His honey-colored hair was styled in the most unassuming way - the very epitome of casual cool. He always reminded me of some egocentric millionaire, strutting down one of the most exclusive European marinas arm in arm with a girl half his age, a faint but satisfied smile just visible on his face.

Well, look at that.
I don’t think anyone would place him over thirty-five, even though he’s pushing fifty.

When he heard me approach, he turned and smiled, but I didn’t return the gesture.

“Hello Nikolai.” I said and stopped four feet in front of him.

T
he smile faded from his face and he looked offended. I followed his dark blue eyes, the same ones I saw every morning in the mirror.

“Princess... I asked you not to call me that.”

“And I asked you not to call me Princess... Dad.”

“That's better
.” he smiled again, pretending not to notice the sharp edge to my voice.

I sat down next to him, but placed my bag between us, so that
it formed yet another barrier. A brief silence ensued; neither of us had known how to start a normal conversation in years.

“How are you
?” he finally asked.

Even thou
gh he lived here for more than two decades, he never lost his heavy Russian accent. Thanks to my mother, and due to the fact that I was born here, I’ve never had any.

“Fine.”

“And Bethany? How are you two getting along?”

“Is it really necessary to go through all of this? I’m sure your spies have already filled you in on all the details
.”

Did he think I hadn’t noticed the ‘new’ guard who’d appeared at the entrance on the day I moved in? Or that the residents from the floor below me had vacated almost immediately and that no others had replaced them after almost a year? Not to mention the fact that the bakery oppos
ite my building had a new owner.

“I just want to know you're safe.”

“Oh never mind… forget it.” I raised my arms out of frustration, “I don’t think you brought me here to ask about what you already know. Cut to the chase, please, ‘cause I don’t have time to jump through hoops every time you’ve a mind to make me.”

“There have been some... complications.”

I turned towards him and regarded him carefully, trying to glean something from his face. For most people, “complications” would amount to problems repaying a loan or having a busted engine on the station wagon, but for my father it meant an almighty shitstorm with truly catastrophic consequences.

“What kind of complications?” I asked, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

“You have to come back home with me.”

“Not
gonna happen.” I said and turned my head away, “I told you I do not plan on living in the same city as you, let alone in the same house.”

“Sasha! I only let you live on your own because you ran away the last time I locked you in the house. I thought it would be safer like this, less risky than
having you roaming the streets and hanging around those places where your so-called friends live. “

“And why are we going over the same ground now? You won’t make me change my mind, you know that
. “

“Things have changed
.” he sighed and ran his fingers through his thick fair hair, “I went into a business with some... dangerous people.”

“Dangerous? Nikolai, but you're
one of those ‘dangerous people’. Maybe one of the worst.” a hysterical burst of laughter threatened to overtake me, but then I saw the expression on his face and I choked it back.

“What happened?” I asked quietly.

“There’s been a misunderstanding, a bloody one, that's what happened. Some idiot planted a bomb in Khalil’s car last night and he’s decided it was us.”

“Khalil
Sherazi? Your partner? ”

“Yeah.
He called this morning to inform me that he holds me personally responsible and that he’s canceled our payload agreement.”

I felt my stomach contract, because I knew from experience what this might lead to. In spite of everything, and above all else, I loved my father and I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“I don’t get it... If Khalil called you, that means he’s ok. Why would he threaten to take revenge then? Are you planning to escape or what? Is that why you came... to tell me we’ll never see each other again?”

“They’re guided by the laws of the vendetta
, Princess. It’s an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth...” and then he gave me a look I’d never seen before, “Khalil wasn’t in the car that exploded. His daughter was.”

There was nothing to hear in the long moments that followed, save for the engines of cars passing by the other side of the park. My eyes were fixed on the tips of his fingers as I turned this information around in my mind, before I finally responded.

“I get it. All of it. But I'm not going anywhere, no matter what. I can’t leave everything I have here because of some crazy Iranian who probably doesn’t even know I exist… and even if he does, how’s he gonna find me? I have new documents, your guard dogs are everywhere...”

When I left home two
years ago, the first thing I did was go to the town hall and change my name. All my papers said Sasha Meyers, so I had it in my mind that no one ought to connect me to Sasha Navarova any more.

“
I don’t want to take the risk. I don’t want to think about what I’d do if you got hurt.”

“And I can’t live like that! All day long, cooped up staring at four walls just because you’re into some crazy shit with some of your mafia partners again! I'm sorry, but
that's not gonna happen. You can’t make me.”

“I'll cut you off and cancel your cards.”

“You know very well that won’t stop me. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried it.”

“I know...” he nervously scraped his hair. “Good... If you don’t want to go back, then someone has to be with you all the time.”

“No! I’m done with bodyguards...”

”Enough! Listen to me very carefully now. You’re either coming back home where I know you’re safe, or someone comes to guard you. No two ways about it.”

“But Dad...” I started, but fell silent when I saw the look in his eyes.

I could see that if I said no, he’d put me in his car and drive me out to one of his estates where he’d keep me under close watch, far away from my new life. I shuddered at the prospect.

“Okay. But, if you're thinking of bringing some dumb grunt to follow me around in a suit like a human tank - forget it. I don’t plan on turning my life into a circus. Send me Vova.”

“
Vova?” he blurted and looked me full in the face, “You want me to send you Vova!?”

“Well... he's normal. And we got along well
.” I shrugged.

The term ‘normal’
didn’t really apply to the people who worked for my father. The fact I considered this one-eyed mountain of a man normal, though he wore a dagger even when he visited the can, spoke volumes about the rest of Nikolai’s team. Nevertheless, Vova was one of the few who didn’t scare me half to death when I saw him. I just couldn’t be afraid of someone who taught me how to tie my shoes when I was four, or hid the remnants of vases I broke playing in the house.

“The man who set his mind on killing you was just about to buy ten trucks loaded with automatic weapons. Who knows how many
of his men are running around with your picture right now, and you want me to send the ageing butler to watch your back?!”

I bowed my head and eyed Nikolai angrily as he pulled
a cell from his pocket and hit a speed dial number. He spoke in Russian, the language I never used but understood most of it, and I listened as he started to give orders.