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The same thing mustn’t happen to me.
Jeanne touches my elbow, pulling me away from my sordid thoughts. “You look absolutely beautiful, dear.” Her eyes crinkle with delight.
I give her a grateful smile and try to pretend I’m fine. “Thank you. I love what you did.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”
“You should do this professionally.”
She laughs heartily. “In another lifetime I did. I was barely eighteen years old.”
“Really?”
“Yes, in Russia I worked in a theater. I was a makeup artist for the dancers on the stage shows. Then I moved to the States and married my Adrian. Now I am here.”
She’s given me glimpses of her life over the last few days. The other day when she told me about her husband, who died many years ago, I noticed how she spoke about him as if he were still alive. Grams used to do that. She said it helped her deal with my grandfather’s death.
“I’m glad I got to do your makeup,” Jeanne continues. “The last time I did anything like this was last spring for my youngest daughter’s wedding.”
“How many daughters do you have?”
“Three.” Her smile widens. “You’ll get to meet my eldest tomorrow. My granddaughter is coming to visit for the day.”
“It will be good to meet her.” If nothing else it will be something different to distract me from everything.
Jeanne reaches out and touches my hand. “I know the circumstances of today are a little different to most weddings, but you do look truly beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
I return my gaze to my reflection in the mirror.
At least I look like a fairy tale princess. But without the fairy tale wedding or, honestly, Prince Charming.
Jeanne walks to the dressing table and picks up the bouquet of white roses. “This is the last thing.”
“Yes.”
There's a knock at the door. Jeanne glances over her shoulder then looks back at me.
“That will be the guards. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
She opens a door, and two guards are standing there. One is the guy from the other day. His name is Yuri. The other is Vladmir. They are Malik’s personal guards. He has others, but these two are in charge.
Both look like they belong on a military compound. Thank goodness they don't have their guns out today. I'm sure they still have them somewhere; I’m just glad I can’t see them.
Jeanne says something in Russian, and both guards nod in agreement.
I still haven’t managed to pick up anything of the language, but it sounded like she was telling them to take care of me.
Jeanne comes back to me and gives me a quick hug.
“I’ll see you later. You will be okay.”
I’m appreciative of the assurance, but I don’t really think I’ll ever be okay, even with all that money at the end of this. I’ve already felt the sting of being dragged into the Volkova’s world.
“See you later.”
