Caitlin dropped her voice as we walked. “His parents are both gone.” She paused. “He has two brothers. One runs the family business in New York. The oldest is in California. That’s where the headquarters sit, and he’s the one at the top.”
I slowed. “Dmitri isn’t the firstborn? He carries himself like he is.”
Caitlin laughed, the first real one since she arrived. “Trust me, all three of them give exactly the same vibe.”
I let that sit with me as we walked past an open office where the floor hummed with quiet productivity. People moved between desks with ease.
We stopped at a distance, and I watched them. The women, especially, dressed well, carrying themselves with a confidence born of belonging. I wondered, not for the first time, what version of my life would have landed me in a room like that.
“Sales department,” Caitlin said beside me. “You should see the design floor. I’ve been there once. They don’t let people from other departments in. The work is exclusive.”
“They’re lucky,” I said.
“Not luck. Papers. Very educated people.” Caitlin folded her arms. “People like me just peek and keep walking.”
I laughed quietly. “And there was me who didn’t finish school.”
Caitlin turned to look at me. “You too? I quit in the second year.” She gestured at herself. “Look at my life.”
“Why did you quit?”
She shrugged as we turned and started back. “I wanted to get married. Can’t say it was the worst decision I ever made, but,” she hesitated, “I think about going back sometimes. I just want to do something I actually love.”
I nodded and didn’t push further. Everyone was carrying their own version of the story. Mine just involved more overnight shifts and a nine-year-old who needed new school shoes every four months.
We took the stairs to the second floor. It was quieter up here, more contained. A conference room sat behind a full glass wall, and the people inside were in the middle of a meeting.
“Market analytics,” Caitlin said, and then her phone pulled her attention. She looked at the screen and lowered her voice. “Give me a minute.”
“Go ahead.”
She moved down the hallway, and I drifted inside the department. The offices were sectioned off, but the open area in the center had screens covering most of one wall, charts, and data bars running across them. Two men stood in front of them, one flipping through papers and looking up at the display, the other tapping something on an iPad and comparing it to the screen.
I stood there and just looked. One of them noticed me. He stared for a moment, said something to his colleague, and they both turned. I lifted my hand to wave, and they dipped their heads in a low, respectful bow.
“What the hell? Am I the Queen of England or something?”
“Something like that.” The voice came from behind me, and I turned fast. Dmitri stood there, hands in his pockets.
No wonder they bowed.
I stepped back to create some distance as he moved closer. He had a habit of invading space without announcing it. And his shirt was unbuttoned again, which was starting to feel like a personal choice made specifically to be annoying.
“I was looking around,” I said, “since apparently I have nothing else to do.”
“Need a tour?”
I thought about it for half a second. The closer I stayed to him, the easier it would be to convince him. He had refused to find my father. The least he could offer was a job. “Why not. If it’s coming from you.”
He walked past me into the room. The two men cleared out immediately, the way people did around Dmitri, with no need to be told. He stopped in front of the screens, and I moved beside him, close enough to look at them too.
I wished I had studied something. Anything. Because, standing in front of all these lines, charts, and bars, I felt like someonehad handed me a book in a foreign language.
Dmitri jerked his chin at the first two screens. “That’s the UK and Hong Kong. The bars represent quarterly revenue, stacked three months at a time. The line tracks monthly movements. When it jumps, buyers are unstable. See that clock?”
He was speaking in tongues.
“Yeah.”
