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Next, we made our way down the sand to the beach, cutting through an open air bar that was beginning to get its crowd of regulars sipping their colorful drinks. As the sun went down behind the buildings, we splashed in the gentle surf. I tossed my sandals up on the sand out of harm’s way and kicked a wave of water at Yuri, drenching him to his knees. He barked out a promise of retribution, running back up the beach to roll up his jeans. I scampered away, growing weak from giggling as he chased me and tried to get me back. I finally had to stop and lean over, grabbing my knees to catch my breath.
With a war whoop, he picked me up from behind and swung me in a continuous circle until I was so dizzy I begged him to put me down. We both staggered out of the shallows and collapsed on the dry sand, laughing so hard it almost seemed life threatening. And what a way to go. I rolled over and rested my elbows on his chest, staring into his blue eyes, dark now that the sun was almost gone. Lights from the nearby hotels and bars winked on and I grabbed his face and kissed him.
This was how things should have been all along. If he hadn’t dumped me, if my father wasn’t a psychopathic mafia kingpin I was on the run from. If he hadn’t also been from a mafia family. The way it was in my dreams when I still had them.
His arms wrapped around me, and we lay listening to the ocean slap the shore as it grew darker and darker. Soon a chill washed over us, and I shivered.
“We should head back,” he said, tugging on my messy ponytail.
I wordlessly nodded, and we walked hand in hand back to where we’d parked, listening to a mix of top forty and Cuban music on the way back to his house. All the way home it felt like something ominous was waiting for me and, when we pulled into the garage, I didn’t want to get out and go inside. Not because I didn’t like the place. I was learning to love it. But because it meant the end of this perfect fantasy afternoon. This wasn’t a continuation of a long dead dream of mine that had somehow come to life again. Yuri did dump me, and we were both pawns in our family’s game. The only difference was he had loyalty to his brothers and did what he had to in order to help them. I only wanted to destroy my father.
I blinked back tears that he couldn’t see in the dim garage, and finally got out of the convertible. I took his hand at the door, and squeezed it.
“I’m going to make you a fantastic dinner,” I decreed, refusing to let the night end on such a sorrowful note.
He chuckled. “The cook was making chicken soup earlier.”
“Pfft. Chicken soup is better after you let it sit overnight anyway. Let me do this,” I pleaded.
“Your funeral,” he said. “You don’t know how territorial she is over the kitchen.”
“Oh yes I do,” I sighed. I’d been spending a lot of time with her and knew exactly where everything went. “Come on. You can help.”
“Oh, can I?” he teased, but followed me into the kitchen and helped me pull out a bunch of different ingredients while we decided what to make.
We made an absolute mess, but managed to put together a fairly respectable quiche, with a scratch crust and everything. I popped it into the oven and set the timer, peering in through the oven door at my first ever meal. I looked over to find him staring at me with a look I couldn’t identify and felt my cheeks heating up, but it had nothing to do with the oven.
“I ate a lot of beans and rice,” I said. “Sandwiches and dry cereal. I’m pretty proud of that.” I pointed to the oven.
He reached over and pulled me into his arms. “You should be. I can’t wait to eat it.” He called out to activate some music and twirled me in a fancy dance move then tugged me back.
I grabbed onto him around the middle and we swayed to the fast, rowdy song as if it were a slow jam. It didn’t matter what song played next, or the one after that, we kept rocking back and forth in each other’s arms until the timer dinged.
I jumped, completely forgetting where I was. Coming back to earth enough to take the quiche out, I set it on the table and slid into my chair.
“We never set the table,” I said, shaking my head.
“Easy enough,” he laughed. He grabbed two plates, a knife to slice the quiche and a couple forks, then balanced two wine glasses on top of it all while tucking a bottle of wine under his arm.
“Can you drink wine with ham and cheese quiche?” I asked.
“Oh my love, you can drink wine with anything,” he said.
It didn’t seem like he even noticed what he said, and I knew it was a careless, throwaway endearment, but it still made me prickle with warm fuzzies. He set the plates down and as he worked the corkscrew into the bottle, a loud buzz emanated from his pants pocket.
I sucked in a breath. He must have had his phone on the do not disturb setting because it hadn’t made a peep the entire time we were out. That meant it had to be either his assistant or his brother. He set the bottle down with a dark look and took out the phone.
“If it’s my assistant he can go fuck himself,” he said, making me giggle nervously. So much seemed to be riding on who was on the other end of that call and how this perfect night might end. He swore and gave me an apologetic look. “It’s Ivan.”
“Take it,” I sighed.
He leaned over and kissed the top of my head and then rushed out of the kitchen, answering in an impatient voice.
I cut myself a slice of quiche and put it on my plate. The night was over and I was resigned to eating alone.
Chapter 13 - Yuri
I stepped into the hallway, grumbling to my brother. The call had me crashing back to reality and it was as jarring as a sudden car crash. For a few hours it seemed like I was really married to the girl I loved, and we were about to share a simple dinner we cooked together. I didn’t remember the last time I had such a nice afternoon. The fact I was going to have to work late into the night to catch up with the work I skipped to spend time with her didn’t bother me in the slightest.
