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Chapter 3
Michelle
I adored my swanky condominium in New York City, which was right in the heart of Chelsea. After purchasing it, I hired the best interior designer I could find and had them go with renaissance decor. It was my little oasis at the end of each workday.
The condominium had a contemporary, open-floor layout, with five bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, a modern kitchen, and even a fireplace in the living room. It had a modern design with clean-cut lines and stainless steel appliances.
Affinity Finance had funded the construction of the building, and my father made sure they saved the best condo for me.
I insisted on softer furnishings, though, since modern seemed cold and reminded me too much of him. At work, I was a stern businesswoman, but I was much softer and feminine at home. There were always fresh-cut flowers in each room, with shades of pink and cream. Even the main seating area had a touch of Victorian flair, with two pink settees and a large, rose, and white Persian rug.
One of my favorite pieces was the giant crystal chandelier in my living room, which hung directly above my cream, tufted vintage couch. The adjacent French doors opened up to a terrace that wrapped around my condo, and it was full of green fern plants with budding pink flowers. Directly across the street was a pizzeria, which I often smelled on warm nights when my doors were open.
I poured myself another glass of champagne and walked outside. It was one of my favorite ways to decompress at the end of the day. As I watched people on the street below, while embracing the subtle breeze against my sheer blouse, I thought about everything that had happened at work that day. The fact that my father had given me the Russian project spoke volumes. I knew that everyone in the company viewed me as ‘daddy’s little girl,’ but he still treated me like one of the guys.
I often felt that he was the hardest on me.
As I listened to Claude Debussy’s ‘Clair de Lune,’ I walked over to one of my glass end tables and picked up a picture of my mother. In it, she was wearing a long white dress while standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, looking glamorous and smiling from ear to ear. My father had taken it while they were on their honeymoon in Paris.
“I love you, Mom,” I whispered while running my fingers over her face. I would have done anything to have her at my side at that moment, watching me pack for my big trip to Russia. Working for my father was fulfilling but hard at times, and now that I was an adult, I thought about all of the fun things we could have done together. There was little doubt in my mind that we would have become best friends.
I put the picture frame back on the end table, then resumed packing for my trip.
I had been packing ever since I got home from the office that day after my father told me about the Russia trip and project. He said that he’d have someone else do the meeting with the two men I met with that day since I wouldn’t even be in the country. I just hoped they’d close the deal.
My father hadn’t told me how long I’d be staying in Russia, so I decided to pack heavy. Seven large suitcases lined my Persian rug, with their tops flung open as I neatly piled business outfits and casual wear inside. My mother would have told me to dedicate one suitcase just for shoes, and that’s just what I did. It was full of high heels, sneakers, and thigh-high boots.
The doorbell rang as soon as I finished my glass of champagne, and I knew it’d be Elaina. She was both my best friend and personal assistant. She and I had been friends since we were little girls, playing together as our parents hosted adult dinner parties. We both attended Columbia University, and as soon as I joined my father’s company, I begged her to come on board.
She was terrified of him, though, so I made her my assistant and acted as a barrier. On a few occasions, she made a mistake, such as that morning when I didn’t get the contract in time, I took the blame.
I buzzed her upstairs, and she waltzed into my place, her long, dark blonde hair getting in my face as we hugged each other.
“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” she said while putting her luggage by the front door. She had packed heavy just like me. “Traffic is awful, but that’s New York City for you. I just don’t understand all of the unnecessary honking.”
“That’s alright,” I said. “As you can see, I’m still packing. This trip should be a lot of fun since neither of us has ever been to Russia.”
Elaina sat down on the couch and poured herself a glass of champagne. “My goal is to visit every country in the world,” she said, “so this is one more thing to take off of my bucket list. What time are we leaving?”
“We’re on the first flight tomorrow morning, which leaves at four, so we should head to the airport by two.” Elaina accidentally spit some of her champagne out onto my Victorian couch.
“I’m so sorry,” she said while wiping it up, “but that’s before the sun comes up!”
I shrugged my shoulders and continued to pack. “That’s what my father booked for us. It’s a long flight, though, so you can sleep on the plane.”
She downed the rest of her champagne. “Speaking of the devil, did he bring anything else up in the meeting?”
I let out a huge sigh, then turned to face her. “He wants me to get married,” I said, “but only for business purposes. I even saw him on a dating website strictly for rich people.”
Elaina shook her head and slammed her champagne flute down. “What a typical male idea,” she said. “First of all, you don’t even want to get married. Second of all, you are way too good for any of the men he knows.”
I plopped down onto the couch and nodded. My father was great at making money, but the men he did business with were nothing short of snakes in the grass. More than a few had affairs with professional escorts, not to mention impregnated a few. It was water under the bridge for my father, though.
If a woman like myself had done anything like that, however, I’d be fired from the company.
“Maybe he won’t tap into his inner circle,” I said. “He seemed pretty interested in the guys on Capitalist Courting.”
Elaina burst out laughing so hard that she snorted. “Please tell me that’s the actual name of the website.”
