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“Yes, we would convert that apartment into offices.
She knows what she wants. That’s admirable in a girl.
“Then the boxes are through here to the back.” I lead her slowly through a corridor toward the back office. “Here are the bathrooms with another disinfectant station if you want to freshen up.”
“Yes, please,” she says quickly. “I won’t be a moment.”
I wait outside the door. My heart is racing. I should call Kervyn and tell him what’s happening, but I don’t have time to reveal everything to him. I need to handle this situation on my own. I text Lawrence to come to the butchery and bring my car around the back alley.
She seems to take forever, but when she does step out, she smells of disinfectant, and her lips are redder than they were before. She must have applied another layer of lipstick. Her lips stick out, stark against her pale skin.
“So, as I said, the office is all the way in the back here.” I lead her down the corridor when Roger appears out of the office.
“What’s going on?” he asks curiously.
“Nothing, Dad,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “I was just showing Miss Sokolov the files she wants to see because she’s buying the business.”
Roger looks at me apologetically and nods. “Of course. There are some more in storage out back that we keep in a shed, so if you don’t find what you’re looking for in the office, it’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” Elena says quietly. She seems to have softened a little while on our little tour.
I lead her past Debbie and into the cramped office. It’s tiny within, and I take up much of the room. I move behind the desk and sit down to keep myself out of the way, but it still feels suffocating in here. I barely squeeze behind the table, and because I’m so tall, a lot of my frame still fills the room.
Elena stands there awkwardly for a moment before she looks around. “Is this it?” she asks.
“All the files are right over there in those boxes,” I motion to where Roger stores every scrap of paper that comes through here. “I keep telling my dad to get a filing system going, but he never listens. Parents, you know? They always know better.”
“Yeah, they certainly think they do. Thank you for bringing me here,” she says dismissively.
If she thinks I’m leaving, she has another thing coming.
“It’s my pleasure. Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll try to help you find it.”
Chapter 4 - Elena
He’s handsome. His dark eyes seem to pierce right into my core. He’s tall and well-built. He looks very strong, obviously from carrying around the dead animal bodies.
The tour is cute, thoughtful, and sweet, and I enjoy learning about the layout of the butchery. It’s bigger than it seems from the outside, which is surprising, but otherwise, there’s nothing super special about the business operation or building.
There is nothing that would make me think my father would want to purchase this place. The son seems sad that they have to move out of their apartment above the shop, and I feel a pang of guilt. This business clearly means a lot to him.
I know how he feels. Spending your life preparing to take over the family business just to have the rug yanked from under your feet. I can sympathize with that. I mean, my brother was always going to be Pakhan, but I wanted my place as second in command, and now it looks like my brother Kyle will hold that position.
When we reach the office, I move in, and he follows, which surprises me. I was expecting to be left alone to explore. I don’t need a babysitter, but he settles with some struggle behind the desk kept in the office.
The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, in a pattern that would have been more at home in the 1970s: an ugly green pattern with what looks like flowers. It’s so faded that it’s hard to tell.
There’s nothing special about this room; it’s just a storage closet. The room smells of aged paper and dust, and it isn’t easy to imagine anyone working there.
My sinuses are already getting congested just from being in here. On top of that, I swear I hear a rat squeaking somewhere, and I shudder slightly. I can’t stand rats. When I was younger, one ran over my foot, and it instilled a fear of them inside of me that I couldn’t shake.
Trying to distract myself, I open the nearest filing cabinet and rifle through the papers—nothing out of the ordinary, mostly stuff that can probably be recycled.
I don’t know why some people insist on keeping a million records from the first day of business. If they need it, it should be digitized or sent to the recycling plant.
It’s a waste of good space, but I could set up a nice office here. But first, I need to figure out why this butchery is so special. If I can do that, I can work with my dad, show him how I pay attention, and be trusted to run a section of the family business.
I glance at the butcher's son and go back to the files. His presence seems other-worldly. I can feel his dark eyes trained on me, and I feel awkward with him watching me so closely.
