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I can’t let his good manners distract from what he is—a criminal tied to one of the biggest Russian mafia families in New York. I don’t talk to the customers at the bar, but I hear enough. He dresses nice, drives an amazing car, and has the chivalry part down pretty well, but Ted Bundy was good with the ladies, too.
When we get up to my apartment, I pull out my keys only to find that he’s already sliding a key into the deadbolt.
“You had my keys copied?” I stare at him with an open mouth. That’s what he went off to do while I was asleep last night?
“No.” He opens the door and gestures for me to enter. “I had the locks changed. These are sturdy.” He shuts the door behind me and shows me the two—TWO—chain locks he’s had installed.
“I’m not sure that’s allowed.” I point at the new deadbolt. It’s probably the same model used at Fort Knox. “It needs to be keyed to the master key. You know, so the landlord can get in if he needs to.”
He makes a face. “Why would he need to get in here?”
“I don’t know, if I lose my key? Or if the cops tell him to let them in? If there’s a foul smell coming from my apartment, and he needs to get in to find my corpse?”
He frowns and his eyes darken in a flash. “Why would you be dead? You won’t be dead if you keep this door locked right.” He flips the deadbolt, then puts the chains in place.
“Still. I’m going to have to give a copy to the landlord.”
He hangs the key on the hook beside the door before turning to me. “Don’t worry about the landlord.”
The way he says this makes me think he’s taking care of it, or he will if need be.
I rub my temples; a headache sits on the edge ready to explode into a full migraine. It’s the stress. First failing the test and now Luka.
“I have to get ready for work.”
“How many jobs do you have?” Luka asks.
“Three,” I answer without thinking as I grab my uniform from my drawers.
“Three?” His brow knits together, and you’d think I’ve just admitted to some heinous crime.
“I waitress at the bar on Friday and Saturdays. Monday through Thursday I work the register at a small grocery store down the street in the afternoons. And in the mornings on Tuesday and Thursdays, I work at the college library on campus.”
“That’s too much.”
I huff. It barely pays my bills and my tuition for just two classes. And I can only afford that because I’m able to get a discount with my job at the library.
“I’m used to it.” Once my certificate is finished, I won’t be scraping by on minimum wage anymore. I’ll be able to stick to one job only.
“Well, get unused to it.”
“Un-used to it?” I shake my head. “Your English needs work, and I have to change. So can you…” I gesture toward the door.
He takes this as an invitation to sit at my kitchen table and cross his arms over his chest instead.
“You have nothing I didn’t see or touch last night.” His reminder makes my cheeks flame.
“Well, that was last night and it’s almost noon so… things are different during the day.”
“What does that mean?” He cocks his head to the side.
“It means it’s different. Are you going to leave?”
“No.” With his booted foot, he pushes a second chair out from the table and puts his feet up, crossing them at the ankle.
“Seriously?” I groan. “Fine.” I squeeze between him and the kitchen counter and head to the bathroom to change. Stubborn Russian!
“Fucking asshole.” I slam the door and lock it just in case he thinks he can come in here.
