He laughed out loud and retorted before he shut the door, “Don’t you provoke me, or I’ll fuck you twice as many times.”
We spent the drive to Szczecin talking, fooling around, and having sex in parking lots in the forests alongside the road, acting like teenagers who borrowed a car from their parents, bought an extralarge pack of condoms, and set out on an adventure. Each time we pulled over to a lot, the security detail stopped at a distance, giving us some privacy and freedom.
We spent the next couple of days in Szczecin—I went to the spa, and Massimo worked. Despite the multitude of meetings, we ate together, slept together, and woke up together.
On Wednesday, as we were driving back to Warsaw, my mom called.
“Hello, darling, how are you feeling?”
“Oh, just perfect, Mom. I have a lot of work, but everything’s fine.”
“Great! I hope you remembered your cousin’s wedding on Saturday.”
“Kurwa mać,” I blurted out.
“You watch your language, Laura Biel!” Mother snapped, raising her voice at the sound of the cuss.
The word “kurwa” was one of the few Polish words Massimo knew, so he instantly knew I wasn’t too happy with whatever my mother said over the phone.
“Judging by that terse exclamation, dear, I gather you’ve forgotten. Well, let me remind you, then. The wedding is at four but try to arrive a bit earlier.”
“That was an expression of delight, Mommy. Of course I remember. Count me in. I’m bringing someone, too.”
Only silence answered me for a while. I had a pretty good idea what I was going to hear next.
“Who?”
Yup, just as I suspected.
“I met someone in Sicily. We work together. I’d like to bring him with me, as he’s in Warsaw for training right now. Will that be enough data for you, or do you need me to send you a birth certificate, too?”
“All right, have it your way. See you on Saturday,” she replied, apparently offended, and hung up.
My eyes tried to focus on the landscape behind the window. How was I to tell Massimo he was just about to meet my parents? I shot him a glance and wondered what his reaction would be. He felt my eyes on him and knew something was amiss, so he took the first ramp off the highway and parked the car, turning in his seat to face me.
“I’m listening,” he said, frowning.
Two black BMWs stopped behind us. A man stepped out of the first one and approached our car. Massimo rolled the window down and waved the man away, saying something in Italian. The bodyguard turned back, stopped by his car, and took out a cigarette.
“We need to go to my parents’ on Saturday. I completely forgot about it, but my it’s my cousin’s wedding,” I explained, grimacing, and hiding my face in my hands.
The Man in Black didn’t hide his amusement.
“So? That’s it? I thought something had happened. I need to start learning Polish after all. I tend to misinterpret some situations if I only understand the swearing.”
“This is going to be a catastrophe. You don’t know my mom. She’ll pelt you with questions. And I’ll have to be there, translating, as the only foreign language she knows is Russian.”
“Laura,” Massimo said placatingly, pulling my hands away from my face. “I told you my parents had made sure that I got a good education. Aside from Italian and English, I also know Russian, German, and French. It’s going to be okay.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed, and felt incredibly stupid then, being able to communicate in only a single foreign language myself.
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
The Man in Black laughed out loud, turning to the steering wheel and accelerating.
It was dark when we arrived. Massimo parked the car and pulled my suitcase out of the trunk.
“Go upstairs. I need to talk to Paolo,” he said, and headed toward the two black cars parked on the other side of the garage.
I took my bag and went to the elevator, only to discover it was out of order. I opened the door and took the stairs instead. Having reached the ground floor, I stopped. My jaw dropped. The lobby was once again filled with hundreds of flowers. White roses this time. Oh God, no!
“Miss,” the receptionist called out, seeing me. “It’s so good to see you. Those flowers are for you.”
I took a panicked look around.
“The elevator’s down. He’ll have to go through here,” I muttered.
“Excuse me, but I don’t quite understand,” the receptionist said.
There were too many flowers to hide them quickly, and too little time to try to carry them out of the building. I snatched the little card attached to one of the bouquets. I Won’t Give Up, it said.
“Fucking shit!” I cried, crumpling it in my hand.
That’s when the door opened, and Massimo strolled in. He took a quick glance at the roses, balling his fists. Before I managed to say anything, he spun on his heel and stormed out. I stood in place, dazed, leaning against the wall, thinking about what was surely going to happen now. The sound of the Porsche and its screeching tires shook me out of my reverie. I sprinted to the stairs and skipped three at a time, reaching the door of my apartment in a few seconds. My hands were shaking, and aiming the key at the lock proved to be more difficult than normal. When I finally opened the door, I grabbed the key to the BMW from the table and rushed back downstairs. Driving out of the garage, I dialed Martin, praying that he picked up.
“I see my present was more to your liking this time,” he said.
“Where are you?” I shouted.
“Excuse me?”
“Where the fuck are you right now?!”
“Why are you yelling? I’m home. Want to drop by?”
God, no, I thought, and stepped on the accelerator.
“Get out of there! Right now, you understand? Let’s meet at the McDonald’s by your place. I’ll be there in five.”
“You must have really liked those flowers, eh? Why won’t you come inside, though? We can order sushi.”
Annoyed and terrified, I sped across the city, breaking every traffic regulation on the way.
“Martin, for fuck’s sake, just get out and meet me where I told you!”
I heard the intercom in his apartment chiming.
“Someone’s at the door. Probably the food delivery. I’ll be there, though. See you.”
I screamed at him, but he wasn’t listening anymore. He hung up. I dialed his number again, but he didn’t pick up. I tried again and again. I hadn’t been this scared in my entire life. It was all my fault.
When I arrived, I left the car in the middle of the street and sprinted to Martin’s apartment block.
I punched in the code and rushed upstairs, grabbed the handle, and swung the door open. Inside, I saw Massimo’s men. I crossed the threshold, feeling my strength abandoning me, and slid to the floor with my back to the wall.
Massimo was there, too, sitting next to Martin on the sofa. Seeing me, he jumped to his feet, Martin hot on his heels. The bodyguard standing closest shoved him in the chest, pushing him back to the couch.
“Where are your pills?” I heard the Man in Black asking, but his voice was fading away. “Laura!”
“I have some,” Martin said.