Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (62 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY

Lexi

When
I arrived home after meeting with Peter, Viv was curled up on the couch
snuggling Anna and talking to her about the latest issue of
In Style
. I laughed when I saw Anna
sitting on Viv's stomach, patting the pages of the magazine as Viv rattled off
the benefits of each skin care product listed in the article she was reading.

Viv was a makeup
artist for a well-known line in one of the local department stores and she
moonlighted with a number of theaters in the city. It was the perfect job for
someone as social and outgoing as she was, and she had a mind like a steel
trap, which made it possible for her to remember thousands of products and
immediately discern which one was right for which person. It also made her an
excellent person for me to run my lines with since she quickly recognized any
mistakes and lovingly pointed them out to me. There had been times during
college when I'd wondered if our roles should be flipped and that Viv should be
the actor, but she'd reassured me that she had zero desire to be on stage. She
wanted to be behind the scenes – not in them.

"Honey, I'm
home!" I called as I walked through the door. Viv looked up and smiled as
Anna chirped loudly and hopped up onto the back of the couch. I walked over and
scooped her up, causing her to meow loudly before mushing my shoulder and
drooling on it as she purred in my ear. "Wow, this is an awesome welcoming
committee."

"And, dinner
is in the oven," Viv told me as she set the magazine down and got up off
of the couch. "You hungry?"

"Starving,"
I said. "We were too busy to take a lunch break, and then I got involved
in some Josh drama and was too mad."

"Josh drama?
Do tell," she said as she moved toward the kitchen.

"Let me
change out of these clothes first," I called as I headed down the hallway
to the bedroom. Anna protested loudly when I set her down on the bed. I laughed
as I scolded her, "Oh behave, little one; I can't carry you around
everywhere!"

When we returned
to the front room, Viv had brought two plates loaded with ribs, potato salad,
coleslaw, and cornbread out into the living room. She'd opened a bottle of
zinfandel and poured two very generous glasses to go with the meal.

"Now, spill
the details!" she demanded as she handed me a plate and a fork then sat
down on the couch and dug in.

I spent the next
half hour telling her everything that had happened that day, including the
tension that I felt building between Max and me. Despite the stress of the call
from Josh, I still couldn't stop thinking about how it had felt to be so close
to my handsome boss. And I wondered out loud what he would be like without the
suit on.

"You should
find out, Lex," she urged. "I mean, how often do you meet a rich,
handsome guy who owns a jewelry store? And, if he's smart, all the
better!"

"Don't get so
worked up about it, Viv," I warned. "It's just a temp job for a few
weeks until he can hire a professional salesperson to take over. I'm not going to
be around long enough for him to get attached to me, and I'm not ready to hop
into another relationship. Hello? Josh just dumped me!"

"Oh please,
Josh had been dumping you for years," she said, waving her hand
dismissively. "You just chose not to see it. Now you're free, and I think
that this boss of yours is the perfect guy to rebound with! I mean, he's
handsome, rich, and he obviously likes you or he wouldn't have hired you for
this job!"

"Viv, let's
not go overboard here," I warned. "He hired me because he had few
other choices. I was a poor substitute for a real salesperson, but I looked
good enough to play the part. That's all this is — me playing a role for a guy
who needs to run a business."

"Pshaw! He's
going to fall head over heels for you before the end of your employment,"
she said. I raised an eyebrow and stared at her. "Okay, well, maybe not
head over heels, but he's going to be smitten."

"You are an
eternal optimist, Viv," I laughed as she held out a wet-nap for me to wipe
my face with.

"I'm just a
romantic dreamer," she countered, batting her lashes as she wiped her
face. "I believe in true love and all the magic it entails."

"You're
certifiable," I laughed. Anna hopped into my lap and patted my arm. I
looked down at her and smiled as I picked her up and cuddled her, "And,
you are a good, sweet girl! Spoiled, but a good, sweet girl."

Viv smiled and
then changed the subject. For the next hour, she told me all about the
impossible clients she'd worked with during the day and the new job she'd landed
with one of the theaters in Edgewater. We laughed about the things actors had
in common with everyday folks who visited her counter at the store, and then we
spent another two hours running my lines while Anna hopped between us, batting
at the scripts.

"This is so
dark!" Viv remarked as we ran through the scene in which Hedda encourages
Eilert to commit suicide and gives him the pistol with which to do it.

"I know, but
it's such an intimate look at the psychology of women in the nineteenth
century!" I said excitedly.

"Nineteenth
century, hell, it's the twenty-first century, too," she said as she looked
at the next portion of the script. "This has every dramatic element of a
good reality television show."

"Ibsen would
turn over in his grave if he heard you say that," I replied.

"If he knew
what a television was," she shot back and we both collapsed into a fit of
laughter.

Two hours later,
Viv and I called it a night. She had agreed to sleep over and do my makeup in
the morning so that I looked flawless for the first day of sales at the store.
I was grateful that she would be there in the morning to help me get ready and
calm my nerves.

Anna, however, was
confused and spent the night traveling between my bed and the couch, chirping
happily at having two warm bodies to snuggle with.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Max

I
woke up before
dawn the next morning feeling tense and anxious about the store's opening day.
I'd taken out plenty of ads in the daily papers and paid a great deal of money
to online promoters to set up Facebook accounts and Twitter feeds and to get
the Malin brand name out into the public. I was hoping that the grand opening
would provide me with a chance to get to know the type of customers who would
be shopping at the store and maybe even ferret out a few big spenders from the
get go.

I knew that if
Papa got wind of an opening that was less than stellar, it would make him
bolder in his attempt to force me back into the family business, and I didn't
want to leave him even the slightest opening. I thought about Kristov's visit
and wondered how I could help my brother while maintaining my own, separate
identity. I knew he needed me much more than I needed him, and that his ability
to succeed was now completely dependent on my willingness to come back and
serve the family.

I quickly showered
and dressed before drinking the coffee Natalia had set up for me the night
before. She never stayed the night with me. She said she needed the space and
comfort of her own bed, but I knew that it was also her way of keeping a safe
distance between us out of the fear that one of us would get too attached. She
was odd that way, but I loved her for her pragmatism.

I called my driver
and told him that we were going to make a detour before heading to the store.
He nodded and drove north to Babi's. I stopped at a small flower shop and
bought her a bouquet of the mixed summer flowers that she loved before we
reached her flat. Despite the early hour, she was already outside sweeping the
walk. Many of her neighbors thought she was a crazy old lady, but I knew that
part of the reason Babi swept was to keep an eye on the neighborhood kids. She
didn't trust the gangs that ran in the neighborhood, but they were well aware
that she was Vladimir Malinchenko's mother so they tended to steer clear when
she was out. Babi saw her sweeping as a contribution to keeping the community
kids safe from the violence that Russian gangs brought to the neighborhood,
allowing them to hang on to their childhood for just a little longer.

Knowing how the
gangs operated, I'd scolded Babi for being so reckless. That is, until she
reached inside the pocket of the floral apron she always wore while sweeping
and showed me that she carried a small pistol my father had bought for her. The
handle was mother-of-pearl and there was a Russian orthodox cross etched into
it. After that, I didn't worry as much.

"Good
morning, Babi!" I called as I got out of the car and headed up the walk.

"Maksimka!
What are you doing here? Doesn't your store open today?" she asked with a
worried look. "Why are you here?"

"Babi, I have
a problem," I said. I knew I was taking a risk in spilling the problem to
my father's mother, but I also knew that if anyone could see a way out of this
dilemma, it would be my grandmother.

"Come in and
tell me what you need while I fix breakfast for you," she said as she
climbed the porch stairs.

"I'm okay,
Babi. I don't need breakfast," I protested.

"Pshaw!
Everyone needs breakfast," she said, waving her hand at me. "Come
upstairs while I cook and we will talk."

I followed her
into the kitchen and watched as she poured me a steaming mug of coffee and then
quickly whipped up batter and began making thin crepes, which she flipped onto
a plate and urged me to eat while they were still hot. Watching Babi cook was
like watching a tornado. You couldn't believe what you were seeing until it was
all over.

"Eat!
Eat!" she yelled at me as she flipped yet another perfectly browned circle
out of the pan and onto the plate in front of me. "These don't keep, so
you need to eat them while they're hot!"

I told her the
story of my meeting with my father and the visit from Kristov as I chewed on
the hot crepes filled with blueberry jam. She didn't say much as I spoke. She
only asked a few questions and then went silent. When she had run out of batter
and had flipped the last crepe onto the stack still remaining on the plate, she
turned and looked at me.

"Maksimka, I
know you want me to talk to your father," she began in a voice weighted
down by family obligation and love. "But I'm not going to do it. Do you
know why I'm not going to do it?"

"No,
Babi," I shook my head.

"I'm not
going to do it because your father is the head of this family and he has the
right to make the decisions he needs to make in order to keep us all
safe," she said carefully. "I'm not going to interfere with his
ability to run his business."

"Okay, Babi,
I understand." I was disappointed that there was no one in our family
strong enough to stand up to my father and convince him that making me become
part of the
vory v zakone
was a
terrible idea. I would have to find another way.

"However."
The word hung over the table like a cloud of hope. "However, I will talk
to the priest at my church and see if he can work it into the sermon."

I looked at my
grandmother with wide eyes because I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My
Babi, a Russian orthodox Catholic who went to church every morning and twice on
Sunday's, was going to ask her priest to intervene in a mafia family's
business. My father would have a fit.

"Babi, I
don't think that's such a good idea," I said hesitatingly. "I don't
think Papa will like it, and more than that, I don't think he'll even hear
it!"

"Oh, he'll
hear it all right," she told me with a twinkle in her eye and a smile
playing around her lips. "He'll hear it from all the babushkas over on the
West side who come here for mass on Sundays. They'll take the message back and
pound their own kids over the heads with it and those kids are parents of kids
your age, and they are cronies of your father."

"Babi, that's
so crazy, it might just work," I said, looking at her in amazement.

"Oh please,
give me a break, Maksimka," she said waving me off with feigned disgust.
"How do you think we made kids behave in the old country before all this
technology made your brains soft?"

I laughed at her
admission, took a swig of coffee, and got up. Babi quickly wrapped up the
leftovers and put them in a neat container for me.

"Thank you,
but I've got enough for lunch," I said looking at her confused.

"Not for you,
Maksimka, for your poor driver who is out there starving to death in the
car!" she scolded as she smacked my behind and then patted my cheek.
"You have so much to learn."

I leaned down,
gathered her in a tight hug, and held her long enough that I felt the emotions
begin to well up inside me. I understood my grandmother's feelings about family
and loyalty and I didn't dispute the fact that they were essential to the
continuation of the family tradition, but I couldn't bear the thought of being
trapped by an outdated notion of loyalty and I didn't want to be caught in the
deadly business that my father dealt in. Not even for my Babi.

"Remember,
Maksimka," Babi said as she pressed her hand against my cheek. "
Ty nasha radast."

"I know,
Babi, but I don't feel like I can make anyone very happy right now," I
said as I walked to the door. "I'll keep trying, though."

She smiled at me
as I looked at her over my shoulder, and then she turned back to the sink and
started to do the dishes.