“Hello, maja dacka.”
I smiled at the loving way he always said “my daughter” in his native language of Belarusian.
A little over thirty years ago, he’d immigrated to the USA from Belarus. He’d met my father, Sai, a new arrival from India, when they both worked as drivers for an old-money New York family. Over the course of a few years, they became friends and soon were inseparable.
Nearly every one of my childhood memories had Damir and his family in them. Including Damir’s pain-in-the-ass son, Leopold, or Leo as he preferred.
“Good morning, Papa Damir.”
“Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind.” The way he said that made me suspicious.
“Did something happen?”
“You could say that.”
At that moment, a knock came on my office door and then it opened. My assistant, Tammy, walked in and set four newspapers and a tablet on top of my desk.
Leaning over, I released an exasperated breath.
“Reckless Romeo Caught with Another Starlet.”
“Romeo Strikes Again.”
“Business Tycoon in Long-Term Affair with Prominent Director’s Wife.”
The New York City gossip columns loved to refer to Leo as the NYC Romeo because of the multitude of women who’d been seen on his arm. But never before had they attached Reckless to it.
I continued to read the headlines, and they got worse. Some went as far as alleging Leo had fathered multiple children with various starlets from his harem.
“Are you still there, Riya?”
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“I take it you now know why I called?”
I pressed my fingers to my temple. “This isn’t the behavior of a man who wants to change his reputation.”
That man wouldn’t have allowed himself to be photographed sneaking around a bar like a teenager, ever. Hell, he wouldn’t get involved with a married woman in the first place.
I couldn’t care less if he actually did any of the shit in the articles, as long as it remained quiet and public perception about his life was positive.
“Riya, I’m desperate. If anyone can turn him around, it’s you.”
“Papa Damir, I’m afraid Leo is going to be my first failure. I’m afraid this could be a lost cause.”
“No, he’s not. He needs someone like you in his life.”
I was sure Leo felt the same way… NOT.
Leo and I had this snarky banter every time I came home to visit my family and the Vaughns.
He loved to rub in how he lived the same jet-setting life as his clients.
He may be a billionaire now, but he was the child of immigrants, like I was, who worked for the elite circles he now walked amongst. Hell, my mom and Leo’s had cleaned houses together and our fathers had driven the rich around on errands and to events. The wealth our families had accumulated started with Damir and my father scraping together every penny they had to start their business.
It seemed like Leo had forgotten the promises we’d all made to never be like the people our fathers worked for.
“Couldn’t you have picked someone he liked for the job? You know he’s going to fight me at every turn.”
“That’s the point. Leo can fight with you but he can’t intimidate you, as he does everyone else.”
That statement was true. Leo had a reputation for making the hardest negotiators shake in their shoes.
However, none of his tactics worked on me. I’d mastered control of my emotions when I was a newly Stanford-graduated green litigator on my first case. It had turned into a trial-by-fire situation when the lead had come down with food poisoning after a lunch of bad sushi, and I’d had to step in since I was back-up. The case had been in the headlines all over LA, with the public vocally taking sides between the two parties. With my client being the bad guy.
I’d pulled up my virtual big-girl panties, stomped down my fears, and put on the calm, no-nonsense demeanor I was now known for.
“Please, Riya. You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t desperate.”
I wanted to say absolutely no. Then I remembered how Damir had kept his promise to my father to watch over us, going as far as to honor their partnership agreement to split profits fifty-fifty even after Papa died.
“Fine. I’ll still fly in tomorrow and meet with Leo on Wednesday.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I adore you, child.”
“Back at you.”
“We will have dinner this weekend, yes?”
Though he said it as a question, it was more an order.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
If this was one small way of paying Damir back, then I’d do it, whether it killed me or not.
Maybe I should rephrase that and say whether I killed Leo or not.
“Oh, beta, I’m so happy you’re home,” my mom said in our native language of Hindi, engulfing me in her arms as I entered the door of my family’s Long Island home.
There was nothing like feeling her love and warmth wrapped around me.
“Mummy, I missed you,” I whispered into her hair.
I shouldn’t have waited six months to come for a visit. My only excuse was work. I’d barely had any downtime in the three years since I started Guliani and Partners. A weekend here and there was all I could afford. Plus, every time I planned a vacation, some big client would drop into my lap, and I wouldn’t be able to say no.
She released me, stepped back, and gave me her standard head-to-toe inspection.
“What?” I said in response to the frown that crossed her face.
“You lost weight.”
I glanced down at myself. My clothes fit fine. Well, maybe they were a bit looser. I had to stop working through lunches. And perhaps dinners.
What was I to do? When a client needed me, they needed me. I was paid well to fix other people’s messes.
“I promise to eat everything you and Auntie Tat make while I’m here.”
Mom’s frown deepened. “And how long is that?”
“You don’t know?” Mom and Tatiana Vaughn were best friends and shared everything, even things their kids wished they wouldn’t.
“No. Neil only said you were coming in today and that you’ll have a service bring you to the house.” She gestured with her head for me to follow her. “Don’t you think telling your mother you were coming home was a priority over sharing it with your brother?”
I winced. “Neil only found out because I called Mira, and he happened to answer the phone in her office.”
“Your sister knew too, and I didn’t? Why am I always the last to know?” There was an edge of hurt in her tone that made me feel guilty for being such a crappy daughter.
I should have just listened to her bitch and kept that part to myself.
“Mummy, it wasn’t meant to hurt your feelings. Mira runs my New York office. I have to tell her I’m coming into town. I’m sorry. I promise to call you first next time.”
“I just miss you. I hate that you live across the country.”
I hated living across the country too. Living in California for the last eight years had taught me one thing—I was definitely an East Coast girl. I missed the fast-paced energy of the city that never slept. LA was fun, but my personality wasn’t suited to the laid-back atmosphere.