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Finally all that was left was the two of us and Catherine and Jess. “Those women are total bad-asses,” Jess grinned as we went into the living room. We sat on the couch and she crossed her legs, pulling the hem of her black skirt toward her knees.
“True,” said Catherine, who was sitting on Dmitri’s opposite side. She was dressed in a tight sleeveless pink top and mini skirt, apparently single-handedly keeping the entire Lycra industry in business.“Sorry about the sister invasion,” Catherine added. “I didn’t expect Ani to show up with all the twins in tow.”
“That’s a surprising number of twins,” Jess mused before sipping her coffee.
“Oh I know, it’s kind of bizarre. Lena and Marley’s boys are twins, too.” Catherine said, then took a huge bite of bagel.
“Did they use a sperm donor?” Jess asked conversationally.
Catherine nodded and said around a mouthful of food, “Lena’s eggs, donated sperm, and Marley’s uterus.”
“I didn’t know you had a gay sister,” I said to Dmitri.
He shrugged and said, “Guess it never came up.” He was staring at the carpet.
I looked at him closely and asked, “Baby, are you ok?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But God, I can’t believe I acted like that in front of my family. My sisters probably think I’m on the verge of some sort of breakdown.”
“Acted like what?”
“I almost started crying in front of them,” he said.
“So what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Catherine chimed in. “Your sisters and I love you, and we really don’t expect you to be strong all the time. It’s perfectly ok to show some vulnerability sometimes.”
“It’s really not,” he said quietly. “Not with them. I need to be strong for them.”
Jess asked, “So what was the upshot of all of that? Do you know what you’re going to do to get Sokolov out of the picture?”
“Not yet. But at least we know Dmitri’s sisters are looking after themselves,” I said.
“They’re not really,” Dmitri said. “The body guard idea is just going to give them a false sense of security. They won’t be able to handle Gregor if he decides to make any one of them a target.”
“Bullshit,” Catherine exclaimed. “They’re every bit as capable as you are. And I’m shocked to hear that old-school Russian sexism coming out of your mouth, Dmitri.”
“I’m hardly being sexist! I’m not saying that because they’re women, but because they’re a group of people that, despite their tough attitude, have lead very sheltered lives. Sure, they talk the talk. But what do you think they’d do if Gregor bought off their body guards and sent a couple thugs around to any one of their houses?”
Catherine grabbed her shiny silver purse from the end table, hauled out a big Glock, and said, “They’d blow the thugs’ motherfucking heads off.”
A bark of laughter escaped Jess, and she said, “Damn, I think I was the only woman in the house this morning that wasn’t packing.”
“Well good,” I told her, “since carrying concealed is actually illegal in California.” I shot a pointed look at Catherine, then asked, “Wait, how’d you get that thing on the plane when you flew in yesterday?”
“This is one of Dmitri’s,” she said. “I had to leave my own Glock in my apartment in New Haven. Mine’s actually bigger than this one.” She returned the gun to her purse.
One of Dmitri’s. For some reason, hearing that was a surprise. I glanced at him and saw that he was watching me closely, gauging my reaction.
“Why do you have a gun?” I blurted. It was a stupid question. Why wouldn’t he have a gun? He was in the mafia, for God’s sake. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”
I was sorry I’d said anything as I watched his expression. He looked ashamed, remorseful. Hurt. He got up from the couch. “I have to get dressed. I’m expected at the club soon.” And he left the room.
I started to go after him, but Catherine grabbed my arm. “Give him a minute,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t mean to suggest there’s anything wrong with owning a gun. It just surprised me,” I told her. “it’s not something I’d expect from him. Why did he react like that to what I said?”
“Dmitri is terrified of not being good enough for you,” Catherine said. “He keeps waiting for you to get totally disgusted by the whole mafia thing and walk out on him. He’s a really insecure person.”
“How do you know all that?”
“We’ve been best friends since we were kids. He confides in me.”
“How can someone that beautiful be so insecure?” I said, mostly to myself.
Catherine said, “That beauty is all most people see when they look at Dmitri: the pretty face, the hot bod, the perfect clothes. For most of his life, that was all he ever let anyone see. Dmitri wears his attractiveness like armor, but what’s underneath is just a scared, lonely kid that wants to be loved. Not so different than the rest of us, I guess.”
