Mina
Lev drove past three parks before he found one he deemed suitable. When I pointed out the first two, he lowered his sunglasses, peered out my window, shook his head, and muttered, “Too crowded.”
When he did things like this, I reminded myself that although it seemed strange to me, I didn’t know this man—hence the purpose of today. I would sit by and let him do things his way. I had all the time in the world for Lev and his eccentricities.
I helped Lidiya out of the car, took her little hand, and waited for Lev to retrieve the blanket and picnic basket and lead the way. He walked us a short way from the car to a small copse of trees on the outskirt of the greenery. As Lidiya pulled on my hand, I picked her up and hugged her tight, allowing Lev time to stretch out the thick, wooly blanket and set down the basket.
Lidiya squirmed to be released and, reluctantly, I let her go. The moment she escaped my hand, her chubby little legs took her away from us at a surprising speed for one with such tiny feet. A gasp escaped me, and I went to chase after her, but Lev stopped me with a hand on my arm. “She’s okay. She never goes far.”
He was her father. He knew her better than I did, but still, I worried. “Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly as I kept a keen eye on her. She had found a leaf that was to her liking. I knew this because she stood there enraptured, smiling down at it as if it were a ruby glittering in the sun. She held it delicately in her clumsy hand and turned, running back to us with her hand raised above her head to show us her spoils.
My racing heart slowed. I looked up at Lev, who smiled down at the little girl. “Thank you, Lidi. It’s lovely.”
She ran off a second time, but I saw that she stopped at the same distance as she had before, as if she consciously knew that going any farther was going too far.
A warm hand closed around mine and I spun around. Lev motioned to the blanket. “Sit.”
I was about to tell him I didn’t need help sitting, but when I realized I was wearing a dress, I decided against it. I didn’t want to show Lev my no brand white panties. Not today, anyway.
With his help, I sat as gracefully as possible without showing my undies, and he sat as close to me as he could without actually touching me. It was a gorgeous day, and with the trees acting as shade, it was positively delightful. We both turned our heads to watch Lidi as she played a safe and close distance. Lev opened the picnic basket, started to remove items, and handed them to me.
When Lev told Mirella that we planned to steal away her ward for the afternoon, she insisted on putting together a picnic basket for us rather than having us buy something to eat. I was okay with that. I mean, Mirella had made toast for me on occasion, and she was pretty good at that. I was positive she could make sandwiches with ease. Within ten minutes, we had a relatively full picnic basket, a doll and ball for Lidiya to play with if she got bored, her blankie in case she felt sleepy, and bottles of water to sip on.
As Lev handed me items, I placed them down in front of us. Mirella had done well packing potato chips, zip-locked bags full of sliced apples, strawberries, carrot sticks, spears of cucumber, squares of cheese, and wafer-thin crackers, sandwiches, some of Ada’s ridiculous blueberry muffins, and lastly, bite-sized brownie pieces. He took out bottles of water and handed me one. I opened it, sipping slowly, watching him from the corner of my eye.
He removed his jacket, placing it over the basket so it wouldn’t touch the ground, then removed his cufflinks and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.
“I have my first question.” I smiled to myself. “Do you always wear a suit?”
He inclined his head. “Yes, mostly.”
I waited for more of an explanation.
I got nothing.
My eyes narrowed, I motioned with my hands for him to tell me more.
His brows rose. “That’s it. There is no more.”
I scoffed. “Oh, we are going to have to do better than that. Why do you wear suits all the time? Do you own anything other than business-wear? How about a pair of jeans?”
He looked out at his daughter, who had collected a bunch of leaves, and responded, “I don’t know why I wear suits all of the time. It’s habit, I suppose. And yes, I own other items of clothing, including a pair of jeans.”
Oh my.
What I would give to see that ass in a pair of well-fitting jeans. Gah!
“Okay.” I was satisfied with those answers. I opened a bag, picked up a piece of cheese, and threw it into my mouth. “Now you ask me a question.”
He didn’t respond for a long while, and for a moment, I didn’t think he would, but then he opened his mouth and spoke, clinically. “Did you love your mother?”
My brow furrowed.
What kind of question is that?
I answered with ease, “Of course I loved my mother. She was the best. Her name was Clara, and I look just like her.”
“She was beautiful then,” Lev uttered, almost to himself, and I reverted to the old me, turning my head to hide behind my hair.
“She was beautiful, but you know what made her stunning?”
“What?”
I turned to face him. “Her smile.” I grinned. “It was contagious. And when she laughed, her whole body shook in one joyous, choreographed movement. It was as if she danced with her laughter. She smiled all the time, even when it was hard to muster, and she laughed a lot too.” My throat thickened the more I spoke of her. I finished on a whisper, “She was pure sunshine.”
“And then she died.” It was so morbid, so morose that I winced.
“And then she died,” I confirmed with a nod. “It all happened so quickly. She went to the doctors with stomach pains and bloating, and was misdiagnosed at first. We found out that she had bowel cancer, and it was too late. They told us she had three months.” I frowned at the memory. “She barely made it to two.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged just as Lidiya returned with another handful of leaves to add to the small collection she’d gathered. This time, she sat down, right on my lap, and reached for the bag of apple slices. I opened it for her and handed her a slice, hugging an arm around her belly and resting my cheek on her head. “What about your parents, Lev? You haven’t mentioned them.”
“They’re dead,” he stated without emotion.
I turned his question back on him. “Did you love them?”
He picked up a blade of grass, his brow bunching. “I don’t understand love,” he started. “Love is just a word.”
My brows rose in surprise. I could see he loved Lidiya, loved her with all he had inside of him. I could see he loved Nas, and even Sasha in his own way. I did not understand how a person surrounded by people who loved him did not understand love. “But you love Lidiya. You love Nas and Sasha.”
“Do I?” he questioned. “I would put myself in harms way to see them happy. I would give my life to see them safe. I would. Is that love? Perhaps.” His head tilted to the side. “Perhaps it is more.”
Lidiya ate, babbling quietly, handing me things she found fascinating, like the lid to my water bottle. I pondered his words in silence, and when I thought I understood, I spoke gently. “You believe in love the verb. Not love the word.” His face spun and he looked at me as if he was shocked I understood. I added, “Love, the action. Not love, the watery emotion.”
“Yes,” he uttered, awestruck.
I could love you, Lev Leokov.
The thought took me by surprise. It both excited and terrified me at the very same time.
I bit the inside of my lip. “I get it.”
My focus was drawn to the little girl, eating her weight in apple slices, but I felt his eyes on me. Twirling my fingers through Lidiya’s sweet curls, I held her close, using her as a too-cute distraction.
Her father’s intensity was killing me.
“Before, when you had a home, did you plan on college?” His question surprised me.
“Yeah,” I beamed. “I was going to be a photographer. Spend all my money on a camera and take off, snapping pictures of this and that.” I grinned. “Selling my photographs for thousands of dollars and being the go-to person when the people at Vogue needed inspiration.” I chuckled to myself. “That was the dream, anyway.”
“What would you take pictures of?”
Lidiya had put her thumb into her mouth, snatched up her blankie, and settled on my chest, resting her head on my shoulder. I kissed her forehead. “I wanted to take edgy photos. Pictures of people and situations that made people do a double-take. I wanted to be rash and reckless, and bring awareness to subjects that were often forgotten.” I shrugged, accidentally jolting Lidiya. “Oh, sorry, honey,” I whispered. “I wanted to make a difference.”
Lidiya, getting sick of my chatter and movement, picked herself up and crawled over to her daddy, who already had his arms open for her. He folded them around her, holding her close, and the moment she tucked her nose into the side of his neck, she closed her eyes and sighed, dozing almost immediately.
I smiled at the pair. But the sight triggered my next question. “Where is Lidiya’s mom?” I asked cautiously. “I know she lives with her but no one mentions her.”
Without thinking, he answered through a growl, “Lidiya’s mother is a poor excuse for a human being, and as soon as the opportunity presents itself, Lidi will live with me permanently.”
I was momentarily stunned. It was the most emotion I’d ever seen pulled from him. I couldn’t understand what the woman had done to him that he’d hate her so much. I had to ask, “What did she do?”
His lips thinned and his nostrils worked, as if he was having a hard time controlling himself. “Irina thought she could extort money from me by getting pregnant. She’d tampered with condoms, and I never thought to question her. I never had to question a woman before. She taught me how cunning a woman could be.” He shook his head. “The look of shock on her face when I told her I wanted the baby was amusing. After that, she demanded money to not terminate the pregnancy.” He kissed a sleeping Lidiya’s head. “She never wanted Lidiya. She despises her. Mirella isn’t just Lidiya’s nanny.” He sent me a fierce look. “She’s her bodyguard.”
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, my face pale. “Does she hurt her?”
“No, she wouldn’t dare. Not with Mirella around.” He readjusted the little girl, holding her close. “It’s the reason I hired her. Mirella is a retired Marine. I explained our need for someone who could act under pressure. She doesn’t let Lidiya out of her sight. Not ever.”
My shoulders slumped in relief. “I hope I never meet this woman. I would love to give her a piece of my mind.”
“You’ll have to get in line,” he uttered, and confusion swept through me, because it sounded as if he made a joke.
He never joked.
I worked on unwrapping a sandwich and handed half to him. He took it without a word and we ate in silence a while before I thought of another question. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but I’ve been wondering.” I smiled through a grimace, knowing it would sound rude. “What exactly do you do at the club?”
His eyes locked onto mine, and they smiled. “At night, I keep an eye on the patrons. Look out for trouble. Make sure people are having a good time. During the day, I look after the books, transactions and such.”
“Bookkeeper.” I snorted lightly. “Who would’ve thought? When I think about bookkeeper, I see a balding middle-aged man with a bulging midsection, not someone like you.”
“Like me?” he asked, his puzzlement evident.
I rolled my eyes at his attempt at modesty. “Come on, Lev. You must know you’re gorgeous. If your eyes couldn’t hypnotize women, the rest of you would for sure.”
His brows rose. “You think I’m handsome?”
I would’ve decked him if it weren’t for the sweet little girl currently using him as a mattress. Instead, I picked up my bottle of water and sipped, keeping my eye on him. He seemed sincere in his disbelief that I would find him attractive.
Life had this way of sneaking up on you. You’d just be sitting there, lost in a moment, when all of a sudden, a cold feeling swept across your belly and you asked yourself if you ever lived a day in your life.
Being alive was easy. Living, on the other hand…well, that was a little harder. Courage rose from deep within me, and my heart pounded. I didn’t have a thing to lose, so I went for it. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, Lev. Hands down.”
He blinked at me for a long moment, and then turned his head, looking out into the open greenery. His face was stuck on a frown. Then he muttered, “Okay.”
It came out in a way that nearly sounded as if he was reassuring himself, and it hurt my heart. I waited a while, but it seemed he was done questioning me. I took advantage. “Tell me about your family.”
He took in a long breath and started to speak as he exhaled. “Sasha is an asshole. That’s all he wants people to know about him. He was twenty-one when my father died, and took over raising us. He lost much of his youth so suddenly that I don’t think he ever recovered from the loss. My mother ran off when I was eight. We never saw her again. That hit Nastasia relatively hard. She was Mom’s favorite.” A dull throb worked in my chest. I ached for this family. “Nastasia may come off as rough, but she is one of the most generous people I know. When she loves, she loves so much it hurts. And I’m grateful for that.”
I smiled at hearing him speak about his sister. “Why doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”
“Like I said, she loves so much it hurts. And Nastasia has loved Viktor from the time we were children.”
I sat up at that point, mouth gaping. “What? Vik Viktor? That Viktor?”
“The very one.” He was enjoying my astonishment. I could tell.
I was stunned by this information. I sputtered, “But they don’t even like each other!”
“On the contrary,” Lev revealed. “Viktor loves Nastasia very much. In fact, he spends every night in her bed.”
I wheezed out in disbelief. “No way!”
He shrugged, his eyes alight with mirth. “She thinks no one knows, but often, when I can’t sleep, I walk around the complex and his car is parked in front of her house. Every single night.”
Oh, my God. That was who she was with the night before. The god who kept her awake with his tongue skills was Vik. But then…
“But Nas makes out like he’s a womanizer.” I was baffled.
Lev nodded. “He is.”
My head was starting to hurt. “I don’t understand. Why would she put up with that? I wouldn’t. He’d be out on his ass.”
“Love,” he advised gently, “is a doing word. And sometimes the people who least deserve it are the ones who need it most.”
He was right, of course. This conversation we were having was easy. Almost too easy. I was coming to recognize that Lev Leokov was an open book. I only needed to discover the language in which his pages were written.