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She freezes when a buzz hits our intercom.
“It’s okay. I organized attendants,” I say to put her at ease. Their identification is checked before they’re permitted access to the elevator.
Elanee inevitably walks to my side, hiding behind me ever so slightly.
I thrive off it as much as I hate it. I would protect her to no end. But I hated that she now lives in a state of fear.
The elevator doors open, and three women and one male appear, all wearing black. I’m unimpressed to discover one of the pamper associates is a male until he flamboyantly says. “OMG, I’m so sorry we’re late! Now, who are we working on today?” He clasps his hands together excitedly.
His approving interest turns to me. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to kick his ass if he made the mistake of hitting on Elanee.
“My wife needs to be pampered before dinner this evening.”
“What?” Elanee shoots an incredulous look. “Shouldn’t we be doing… you know… other things?” I raise an eyebrow, and a blush streaks her cheeks. “You know what I mean, asshole.”
I bring her knuckles to my lips again. “We will, Cricket. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
But first, I have to have her treated and restored like a queen. She was broken in ways that I wasn’t entirely sure how I could piece back together. All I know is that she needed love and nurture, something my mother had taught me and how I’d aided her recovery as best as I could as well.
I wanted to give Elanee a few hours of peace before the horrors unfold, and I’m made to play the villain by forcing her to relive memories that most would’ve been crippled from.
It was a kindness before my cruelty.
All of which was for her.
16
ELANEE
Mitch holds up the elegant gold dress that crosses across my shoulders with matching heels. It appears to be perfectly fitted to my size and shape. The heels, however, I’ll be throwing into the first fire I see, and I’ll indefinitely be opting to wear my sisters black boots even if it’s not the first choice for the dress.
“Oooh girl. That dress is everything!” Mitch announces. “Isn’t it, ladies?” The women nod enthusiastically in agreement.
I’d had not only a massage, style, and trim but hours of ‘girlish chatter,’ and it felt strange but reenergizing all the same.
Dmitri, although having no intention of being part of it, hasn’t been any more than a few meters away and has been staring at me the whole time like I might go up in smoke.
“Sit. Sit,” Mitch insists in the chamber-like bedroom. I feel like a Greek goddess in a temple.
I was uncomfortable at first, especially when it came to the massage. I struggled to keep my eyes closed when they’d offered the massage because I was too scared of… well anything happening with my back exposed.
Dmitri had taken my hand and lazily sat by my side, reading a book with one leg crossed over the other throughout the entire massage. Despite giving me shit for wearing my slippers even in a massage, it was enough for me to ease into it, to know that I was safe beside him. Even if for a pocket of time. But my mind couldn’t stop racing, wondering about my sister and how she was going at the wedding.
I felt guilty for not doing my job, but my heart also fluttered with the concept and hope of genuine, breathing freedom.
Mitch lined up different lipstick colors, thoughtfully deciding which would go best.
One of the ladies brings over a bucket of ice with a bottle of chilled champagne in it and pours me a glass. “Will you four not have one?”
Mitch pulls a face. “Girl, we’re on the job; stop being a bad influence.”
“I don’t mind.” And I don’t know why, but I almost sound desperate. Is it because it’d been so long since I’d had any type of companionship or friendship? The first two years in Russia felt normal, getting ready with the girls, having fun, and partying, but over time, it dwindled into darkness and isolation.
“My wife prefers the tipsy type of company,” Dmitri announces as he flicks over another page without looking up.
Mitch seems confused but then casually shrugs his shoulders. “Okay, queens. Let’s have a drink.”
Five glasses are poured, and they mischievously look at one another as they take a sip. One of the women opens a box from the bathroom and gasps. We all look in her direction.
