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See. That was the thing.
“Well.” I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I took the empty seat in front of his desk. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Even though I can’t manage the bar anymore, I still want to be part of Bleeding Hearts. It’s our baby. It’s home. I can’t see a life not being involved somehow.”
Sasha leaned back in his chair. “What did you have in mind?”
Here goes. “How would you feel about me taking over the bookkeeping?”
And Sasha frowned. “What do you know about managing books?”
His response was so skeptical, so doubting, that it took everything I had not to pick up the bowl of mints sitting at the edge of the desk and throw it at him. I spoke calmly, even though my fingers flexed. “Lev suggested I take a course a few years back, and I did. I liked it, so I took another, and another. So far, I’ve got certificates in bookkeeping, office management, and accounting.”
I watched in delight as my brother’s brows rose very, very slowly. And I smiled triumphantly.
Sasha narrowed his eyes. “Convenient.”
“Very,” I agreed, thanking the heavens that Lev was able to see into the future long before I had.
He looked at me. I blinked at him. I could see him weighing up the pros and cons, listing them in his mind meticulously, and then, finally, his shoulders slumped as he gave in. “If Lev is willing to hand over the reins, ease you in, I suppose I don’t have any reason to complain.”
No way.
Great. This was great!
But I had to address the elephant in the room. I knew why he hesitated, and because of that reason, I asked, “And Roam?”
Sasha’s posture turned severe. “What about Roam?”
Oh, brother mine.
When would he realize I wasn’t a little girl anymore? I was a smart woman and saw more than what the eye took in. The fact was, there were only two ways to be rid of a man like Roam. The first was death. And seeing as Roam wasn’t yet deceased, it led me to the conclusion that Sasha had offered Roam a deal in exchange for my release and Vik’s freedom.
Sure, it was just a theory, but it was a solid one. I tested the waters. “Is there anything I need to know about the business you’ve committed yourself to? Any changes to the books I need to make to have the money in versus money out seem authentic?”
Money laundering was messy business. Often, two sets of books needed to be kept.
One legit and one that merely appeared legit.
My brother stared at me for a long moment. He stared hard. And just like that, he knew that I knew he was in business with the psychopath who stole me away. Whether my knowing made him anxious or not, I couldn’t tell. I rarely knew what Sasha was thinking. Even less of what he felt. He was an inflexible man with a hard heart.
It felt like hours, when in reality, only a minute passed. Then, he simply replied, “No. I’ll take care of it myself.”
My heart beat harder, but I didn’t let it show.
Theory confirmed.
Okay. Good. “No problem.” I stood and made to leave, but before I walked out, I paused by the door. “If I can make a suggestion…” His head tilted, and his brow rose in permission, so I shoot my shot. “Anika would make a really good bar manager. She’s punctual, diplomatic, and tactful. She’s great at conflict management. She’s organized and knows the system already. I know she could use the money.” I paused on that noteworthy fact before adding, “I think the position would give her a much-needed distraction. Keep her busy, you know.”
Appearing distracted, his eyes lost focus. Recovering quickly, he uttered a bored-sounding, “I’ll think about it.”
Perfect.
I smiled inwardly.
The die was cast.
With Sasha’s stubbornness and Anika’s unwillingness to talk about how she felt, how else was I meant to get them together?
After all, everyone deserved happiness, even the frustratingly obstinate and the distressingly damaged.
As I left, I spared a glance at my perpetually brooding brother, leaning over his paperwork with his stone-faced countenance, and my chest ached.
Especially them.
37
Nastasia
“You’re waiting?” Anika asked, pausing in her dishwashing, her face falling considerably.
As Vik sat at the dining room table with his parents, his laptop open with the budget we’d devised for them, I watched him explain to them how this was going to work from now on. And as I observed him speak firmly but to the point, leaving no room for argument, I smiled, picturing him being a stern but fair father.
If we had a little girl, however, all bets were off. All she would have to do is look up at him with trembling lips and outstretched arms, and he would be lost to his little princess.
