Page 10 of The Breath Before Forever

Without him, the lunch still served its purpose. Apparently, all it took for Vas to share his criminal dealings was a marriage bed. Vera liked to think a little trust and love worked to her favor there, too.

Not that Vaslav would say as much.

“I guess I better get my ass moving for that,” her father said after letting the silence extend on long enough that she had wondered if he fell back asleep.

“It is a two-hour drive,” Vera replied. “And we both know Vaslav doesn’t like when people are late.”

Even if he wouldn’t be there—that didn’t make a difference to Vaslav.

Demyan answered back with a scoff mixed into a laugh.

“Will you at least admit you like him a little?” Vera asked while her father’s grumblings about difficult—and fucking crazy—men continued.

In the background, much to Demyan’s annoyed sigh that rattled through the speakers of the phone, Claire said clearly, “Oh, don’t worry. He does.”

*

Not more than five minutes after Vera ended the phone call with her parents, Mira joined her in the set of suites across from the master rooms. Empty but for a pile of dusty cardboard boxes piled high in the corner, the bedroom suites featured a similar layout as the master with a main sitting room—larger than the spaces it connected to—leading to a bedroom with an en suite bath, and other rooms with similarly dark, bare hardwood floors.

“It needs a good wax,” Mira told her when she walked into the main room to find Vera bent over inspecting the condition of the floors.

Vera popped up straight, and turned with a smile. “Are all the floors original?”

“Most,” the older woman replied. “These ones are.”

Taking the cup of tea Mira offered on a tea plate, Vera nodded. “I see, thank you.”

“The contractor called,” Mira said while Vera lifted the cup for a sip of nutty tea. The news perked her interest, and Mira didn’t miss it, laughing before she clarified, “He called to say he was at the gate right before I brought your tea up. By the time he walks the icy drive, I’ve still got plenty to make it down and greet him before he can ring the bell.”

Vera rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe he makes the man walk from the gate.”

“Most everyone does. Even the mail. Mr. Pashkov’s rule.”

Right.

And there were a few of those.

Mira shrugged, then, her grin turning conspiratorial when she explained, “But I’ve heard the Christmas cards for those people come with generous gifts for anyone who is required to visit the property. And nobody’s complained.”

Vera’s brow lifted in reply.

The older woman winked, then. “Mr. Pashkov’s unspoken and often private generosity has treated the town and people gratefully.”

“And they reply in kind.”

Mira passed a playful shrug as she turned to survey the bare walls all around them. “You said it, not me. I heard you had plans for a couple of things?”

“The big windows,” Vera replied, widening her hands to frame the large, tall rectangular windows facing every four corner of the outer rooms except the dark sitting room in the middle. “I’d like to knock out a couple of walls and give it a bit of air exchange. That’ll help to keep the moisture from all the plants at a bearable level. It won’t rot the walls, anyway.”

“It does get a lot more sun throughout the day on this side of the house,” Mira agreed. “It’s a good spot for a plant room.”

It might be good for Vaslav, too, but Vera didn’t say as much out loud. He obviously enjoyed nature, and her penchant to bring as much of it as she could inside certainly couldn’t do him any harm.

Only time would tell.

“Did I also hear there might be a studio upstairs?” Mira asked.

Vera waved a finger in the other woman’s direction, only a little bit amused that Mira could manage to hear private conversations—and politely let Vera know as such after. “That was Vaslav’s idea,” she pointed out. “Besides, I don’t think I really want to do that. I don’t need my own private studio to dance in.”