I can’t imagine how awkward and different tonight would be without him.
To make matters worse, the guys keep ordering more drinks and more sushi. I swear they challenged each other to rack up the highest bill possible.
Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly their plan. They’re probably secretly filming this to put on their Youtube channel and make fun of me. I look for hidden cameras, but don’t see any. Then again, what do I know about that sort of thing?
When the bill finally comes, I refuse to look at it. I just pull out the American Express and put it in the folder.
“Thank you for dinner,” Boner says with a mischievous look.
Yep, they were definitely working me.
“Now we’d like to see Chicago’s nightlife. Janette was promising to take us out on the town.”
“Sure, we could go—”
“Take us to a strip club!” Randy interrupts.
“Hey,” Nikolai says sharply, making all three of them look. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking to, so show a little respect, or I’ll shove your head in the toilet back there. What do Americans call that? A swirly?”
The other two guys make “ooh” noises. “Oh, I think he would, too,” Tiny says.
Randy looks at me. “Is he really in the Russian mafiya?”
“We don’t discuss that,” I say primly, finally playing along like it’s all a big joke.
Nikolai shoots me a satisfied smile and pushes back his chair to stand. “My friend’s band is playing not far from here. Come on, you’ll like them.”
The guys all follow like Nikolai’s their natural leader.
It takes me a minute to reorient. I had my list of possible things to do running in my head, and my mind was still spinning trying to pick the best when I realize I’m off the hook. Nikolai has this evening in hand.
Thank God for my unlikely hero.
But no, Nikolai isn’t a hero. I have to remind myself. He’s a dangerous felon. He probably kills people in back alleys. He definitely uses violence and extortion to get his way. And worst of all, he’s got my brother’s balls in a vise right now. Characterizing him as a hero would be a mistake of epic proportions.
Still, I can’t find it in me to regret asking him to handle tonight.
I’ll probably regret it plenty when he calls in his favor.
Hopefully it won’t be anything illegal or unsavory. I can’t decide if I hope or don’t hope it will be sexual in nature.
I can’t think about that now. I just have to get through tonight.
Nikolai takes us to a grungy sort of pub. It’s nothing I would ever pick to take a potential client to, but the guys from Skate 32 seem to love it.
There's a band on the stage, but they’re not playing. They’re tuning and getting set up still.
“Nikolai!” A young woman with a Debbie Harry platinum-blonde bob waves from the stage, and something in me turns brittle and hard.
Ugh. Of course his friend with a band is female.
Nikolai is a total player. That’s why he’s so good at handling this random weird social event. He’s the kind of guy who takes out a different girl every weekend. Totally practiced at this sort of thing.
Nikolai finds us a table toward the back corner because he says it’s going to get loud. I position my chair on the end, as far removed from all of them as I can manage. I’m out of energy for all of this. I definitely can’t handle any of these guys, including the one I voluntarily invited along.
Nikolai leans forward and hooks a hand under the seat of my chair to drag me around the corner beside him.
I shriek a little when it tips, and he slows down but keeps pulling until I’m right beside him. “I won’t let you fall,” he says, like I should know that already.
A cocktail waitress comes to take our order, and she knows Nikolai’s name, too.
I can’t stop the burn of jealousy that coats my mouth and throat.
Nikolai eyes me. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I will be as soon as I get through this night. But then I can’t stop myself. “So you’re friends with the band?”
He nods. “With Story.” He lifts his chin toward the blonde.
I want to leave. Maybe I could go? Would that be too weird? The band probably sucks.
No, that’s absurd. I can’t leave. I’m supposed to ensure this deal gets closed by tomorrow.
I swallow down the bile in my throat. “Are you guys, like…”
Nikolai scoffs softly with an amused smile. “Story and I?” He gestures between them. “No. Just wait a minute, and it will all become clear.”
I frown, hating the mystery. What will become clear?
“Watch.” He tips his head toward a group coming in the door. I can’t figure out what he’s talking about. The group settles in at tables right in front of the stage. And then he’s right. It becomes infinitely clear.
Because Story takes a running leap off the stage and lands squarely in the arms of an enormous, tattooed man.
A guy I recognize from the hotel suite where they had their poker game.
Everything hard and pointy inside me suddenly melts into warm caramel. The public display of affection is adorable. To see the way the muscled giant stares up at his girlfriend with total love makes me swoon.
“She’s your friend’s girlfriend,” I say with relief.
Nikolai’s smile is warm, but his gaze isn’t on them, it’s on me. “Da. They are my roommates. All of them.”
It’s weird.
A squishy, uncomfortable but warm weird.
Because in this moment, Nikolai suddenly becomes human to me.
He isn’t just the bratva bookie. The monster who loans money and beats faces in to get it paid back.
He’s a guy with roommates and friends.
Friends who obviously love deeply.
I watch the big guy carry Story back to the stage and gently lift her onto it. She picks up her electric guitar, nods at her bandmates, and they launch into a fun, fast-paced song.
The skaters, who were busy slamming a round of vodka shots Nikolai ordered, cheer, apparently loving the music.
Nikolai tosses a long arm around the back of my chair, casually claiming me, as if we are on a real date. Are a real couple. I like the way it feels. For a minute, I pretend this is actually my life. I’m here with Nikolai and his friends, enjoying live music.
“Do they play here a lot?” I ask, trying to get a larger glimpse into his life.
He nods. “Every Thursday. Do you like it?”
“Yeah. They’re good. Totally.”
“Welcome, everyone!” the lead singer says into the mic. “I’m Story, and we’re the Storytellers.” She peers back in our direction. “I hear we have some special guests tonight. Nikolai, did you bring the guys from Skate 32?”
Boner, Tiny and Randy go nuts, surging to their feet and whooping and hollering like their team just scored a goal.
“My brother, Flynn, is a big fan.” She jerks her thumb behind her toward the lead guitarist who looks like a younger version of her.
Flynn gives them a hang loose sign with his tongue out.
I can’t believe it.
“Did you know?” I ask Nikolai, who laughs and shakes his head in equal disbelief.