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It’s an interesting little place, and it’s clear that a lot of effort went into making this event as opulent as possible. My father told me that I needed to be on my best behavior, like I’m a six-year-old at Christmas dinner instead of a grown woman.
Who is he trying to impress, and why?
We spend the first hour or so greeting everyone in attendance, and after forty-five minutes, I’m more than ready to leave. Everybody has the same ostentatious, passive-aggressive tone when they address me.Oh, Mika, you look just like your mother! Where is she, by the way? She’s in rehab again? What a shame. Are you in school? No? Well, that’s fine, I suppose. College isn’t for everyone.
On and on. Over and over.
When we finally sit down for the featured meal, I’m placed directly next to Dominik, just as I had hoped I would be. He’s unhappy with the arrangement, but he wouldn’t dare speak up against my father’s orders. Whatever it is he’s being so weird about, he’d better figure it out soon enough or he’ll get fired.
All the most important people are placed at their own table together to create a better environment to talk business. The Albanian mafia boss and his son Izet are here, both placed at the head table where my father is addressing everyone.
I don’t know much about Izet, only that he’s extremely reserved. I’ve never been formally introduced to him before, but I know my father sees him as a future partner once he takes over for his father.
I feel so left out watching them all sit together. Why does Izet get to sit at that table when I don’t? I’m the host’s daughter, for fucksake. I deserve to sit there too.
Dominik takes a seat next to me, setting down a glass of whiskey without any ice.
“Damn, is it really that bad to sit by me? Not even any ice?” I say, attempting banter of any kind to get him to engage with me.
He rolls his eyes and exhales heavily, taking an impressive sip from the aforementioned iceless glass.
Now I’m really beginning to panic. Did my father actually see us? Did he threaten Dominik? My mind is racing as all the worst possibilities run through my head. Did he find evidence that we fucked?
I need the damn whiskey more than he does.
I playfully take his glass from him, and he glares over at me with an unamused expression. “Give it back, Mika.”
After taking a much larger sip than I should have and nearly choking as I cough from it, I place the glass back on the table. “We can share a drink now, since it has my germs and everything. Not the first time we’ve swapped fluids, is it, Dominik?”
He sighs with exasperation as he collects what’s left of his patience. “You need to shut up and behave. Neither of us can afford to get in trouble tonight. Do you understand?”
Now I feel like he knows something I don’t. What are the consequences of misbehaving? I need to know before I totally write off the idea of dragging him into the coat closet and sucking him dry.
I’m growing restless sitting next to him without the ability to touch him. Now that I’ve felt him inside of me, I can’t even look at him without remembering exactly how much I loved it.
As we’re being served, I notice that Izet, the Albanian boss’s son, is staring at me from across the room. I almost didn’t even see him, but now that I’ve caught him, I’m compelled to find out why he would be taking an active interest in me at all.
“God, that Albanian guy keeps looking over at me. Do I look alright?” I ask Dominik, folding my arms over my chest as I fold into myself from self-consciousness.
“Keep your voice down!” he whispers harshly under his breath. I’m not sure if it’s the liquor or what, but he’s more volatile than an atomic bomb right now.
“Why? Can I not take notice when someone is staring at me? It’s weird,” I reply, this time louder than I was before just to piss him off.
Instead of replying, he runs his hand through his hair in frustration. I’ve never seen him like this, not even on the first day I met him.
The room has grown somewhat quiet, and the table of elites is staring back at us, including Izet. I hate seeing his stupid little eyes on me, and now he’s looking at me like he owns me. He’s withdrawn, sure, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a cocky prick.
My father rises from his seat, waving Dominik over to him while glancing at me as though I’ve just been caught smoking weed in the high school bathroom. Dominik gets up from his chair and walks over, looking back at me over his shoulder to make sure I’m not going to run.
They talk amongst themselves for a moment, and after a few minutes, Dominik comes back over to the table. “We need to leave for a bit. Your father is going to have a meeting.”
I scoff. “What do you mean? Isn’t this whole fucking thing a meeting? Isn’t he having a meeting right over there at the table?”
All I get is a blank stare.
“Let’s go, Mika.”
Before Dominik, I would be kicking and screaming until I got to the bottom of why I wasn’t being treated like an adult. Even when I was younger, I was never removed from the events that my father hosted with his partners. Something is going on, and it’s getting more difficult for me to cooperate with it by the second.
