I looked around the mostly-empty bar, feeling disappointed even though, rationally, I knew that it was a Wednesday night and it wasn't a surprise for things to be so empty. All the locals would have been out at Apollo on Monday and Tuesday, and everyone would be gearing up for Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights in the rest of the city. Wednesdays were usually pretty quiet.
Still, after seeing Ritmo so busy over the weekend, I couldn't help feeling that the place seemed even more strikingly empty that night.
Sarah was on the bar again that night, and I wondered if she worked every night. She seemed to be there every night that I was, anyway. If so, it was no wonder that she'd been so worried when I'd threatened her job the other night: she must really be desperate if she was willing to put up with drunken shenanigans every night. I'd never even seen her have a drink on the job.
I wondered if she thought she wasn't allowed to drink on the job.
I hopped up on one of the stools at the counter, watching as Sarah cleaned some glasses. “What's your story anyway?” I asked her.
Sarah looked startled, her hands pausing where they were wiping one of the glasses dry. Slowly, her hands started moving again.
She had nice hands, I realized, and I could picture them running down my body, stroking my member… I broke off that line of thought before it was fully-fledged. Was Sarah hot? Definitely. I had a thing for a woman in sky-high heels, especially a woman who could work, for hours at a time, in sky-high heels. But the whole reason I'd had to do inventory the other night was still stuck in my head, and I remembered Uncle Evgeni's warning about how business and pleasure didn't mix. Sure, I didn't own Ritmo, but I was there often enough that I didn't need to make things awkward.
Even if I didn't plan on ever having to do inventory with Sarah again.
“I'm a student at the university,” Sarah finally said cautiously.
“I thought you were older than that,” I said in surprise. It was a stupid thing to say; maybe she'd just taken time off before starting school.
Sarah laughed, though. “I'm a grad student,” she said.
“Why Barcelona?” I asked. It wasn't exactly that I was curious, but talking to her was a way to pass the time until someone better came along or until I gave up the hunt for someone to warm my bed that night.
Sarah shrugged and looked off to the side, and I got the feeling she wasn't telling me the truth when she said, “Beaches and boys, that's what everyone wants in their college experience, right?”
I frowned at her, but I didn't feel like prying to find out what the real reason was. I drummed my fingers against the bar.
“I wouldn't have thought you'd be talking to me,” Sarah said suddenly.
I cocked my head to the side. “Why not?
She shrugged. “You were pretty rude the other night.” Then, she winced, looking immediately as though she regretted having said the words. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “Please, don't fire me for that. Like I said, I'm just surprised, that's all.”
I laughed. “I'm not going to have you fired,” I told her. “I figure you must be pretty desperate for money if you're willing to work so many hours here.”
She shrugged again, looking embarrassed. “Between rent and tuition, I'm barely scraping by,” she admitted. “Actually my friend and I are...in search of a new place at the moment.”
I thought of my sprawling beach house. Thanks to the family funds I always had at my disposal, I'd been able to pick from some of the best places in the city. But I imagined it must be infinitely harder to move to a city by yourself, without family to back you up.
“I'm sorry I was so rude the other night,” I apologized. “To be honest, it was partly that I had this hot woman chatting me up and had to give it a pass because of the inventory stuff. I was just in a bad mood.”
Sarah rolled her eyes, but I could see the hint of a smile at the corners of her lips. “Yes, because heaven forbid that there should be even one night where the Russian stallion doesn't get laid.”
“The Russian stallion?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. There was something pleasant about watching her face slowly flush a bright, hot red. Before I could tease her further, though, my cousin Alexei appeared at my elbow and jerked his head towards one of the booths in the back of the bar. I sighed inwardly and followed him back there, wondering what was going on now. Surely Uncle Evgeni wouldn't be ready again to entrust me with anything else, no matter how gracefully I may have taken my punishment.
Alexei took a sip of his dark beer, and I had to fight to keep from squirming when he didn't immediately say anything to me. But I knew this game, this power trip, and I wasn't going to impatiently ask him what was going on. Best to sit there, stare coolly back at him, and wait for whatever it was.
After a long moment, Alexei nodded approvingly at me and then said, “How have you been settling in, cousin?”
I shrugged, wondering if this was really just a social call. Where Vanya came out with my brothers and I frequently, though, Alexei was much more reclusive.
“Uncle asked me to let you know that we're expanding the business further south,” Alexei said, and I blinked over at him. I was even more surprised when he continued, though: “There's a package that he wants you to deliver.”
I frowned. “Isn't he still mad at me?” I asked.
Alexei shrugged broadly. “He can be mad at you and still assign you work, can't he?”
“Well yeah, of course he can,” I said, feeling flustered. I hated that I was still so new to all of this, that Alexei and my brothers all had years of experience dealing with Uncle Evgeni and the matters of the syndicate. I felt almost as green as Vanya.
“We're still working on finding a new spot for our headquarters,” he continued. I listened with half an ear as he detailed how that search was going, dropping some small hints that he was displeased to be redoing much of the work that he'd already done on the previous place that we'd almost had, the one that I'd messed up.
My eyes were drawn back to the bar, where Sarah was working. For some reason, my attention was fixed on her that evening. She had personality, I had to give her that. I couldn't remember the last time a woman had told me off like she had, for my rudeness. And that blush of hers, hinting at an inner sweetness that I had yet to explore.
I frowned as I saw her chatting with one of the regulars, this guy named Steve. He was a big guy, burly, and not at all like the rest of the crowd that Ritmo brought in, but he dressed in tailored suits and tipped well, so we had no reason to kick him out. I tried to remember if I had seen him chatting with any other women at the bar before, but to be honest, I hadn't paid much attention to him.
I felt a strange surge of jealousy, seeing that he was talking to Sarah. Which was ridiculous, I knew. I had barely had a conversation with the sexy bartender. And besides, she must know by now that he tipped well, and she had mentioned those financial woes before. She was probably just angling to get a big tip from him so that she could afford to pay her rent.
But I wanted to go over there, to interrupt the two of them, especially when it became clear that Steve, at least, was angling for something more with her. It was obvious in the way that he was leaning towards her, his face animated, the way that he made her laugh.
“Cousin, what are we going to do with you?” Alexei asked, clucking his tongue at me, and my eyes jolted back to him. I realized I had totally lost track of what he was saying, and I was sure that my lapse in attention—and the reason for it—had been noticed.
I took a large sip of my own beer, trying to figure out what to say.
“Is the motherland empty of girls?” Alexei asked mildly. “You act like you've never seen one before.” I sputtered, and he roared with laughter. When he finally calmed down, he shook his head. “Be careful,” he warned. “Uncle has given you another chance. Don't fuck up again or he won't be so kind.”
“Has he sent people back to Russia before?” I asked curiously.
“Of course he has,” Alexei said derisively. “What kind of boss would he be if he hadn't? We pay the cops off, but they're not going to turn a blind eye for long if there are too many mistakes causing people to ask questions.”
I nodded, turning that over in my mind. I wished I could ask more about the syndicate, about Uncle Evgeni, but I wasn't sure how much I was allowed to ask. Part of what made the feeling of brotherhood so strong was the trust implicit in it. Asking questions might be considered a sign that I wasn't sure I trusted the others, and that lack of trust would certainly get me sent back home.
We chatted for a little while about the expansion, and Steve was still talking to Sarah. I was relieved when Alexei suddenly stood up and announced that we would close early for the night. “This place is dead,” he said in disgust, gesturing around at the mostly-empty bar.
“It's been good on other nights,” I said, feeling almost defensive about the place.
Alexei rolled his eyes. “I know that,” he said. “Just because I'm not here, it doesn't mean that I'm missing anything. You will need to learn, Andrei, to have eyes everywhere and your finger on the pulse-point of this city.”
I wanted to laugh at that, but I knew he was serious. Instead, I worked on finishing my beer as he closed down the bar.
I was one of the last people out, and I locked the building behind me. When I turned towards the curb, I saw that Sarah and Steve were still there, and that Steve had just opened the door to a taxi. My mouth twisted bitterly: apparently their chatting over the course of the night had led to something more, then. I didn't know why I hated that idea so much, but I supposed it was that old adage about wanting what you knew you couldn't have.
Of course, it was also frustrating because Steve was a snake, a member of one of the rival gangs in the city. They'd been eyeing Ritmo before Uncle Evgeni snapped it up. He shouldn't have been there at all, and we all knew the only reason Steve was one of our more loyal regulars was because he was keeping an eye on us and keeping tabs on the club for his boss.
It would have been more effort than it was worth to kick him out. We didn't need to start a gang war in the middle of Barcelona; the local police wouldn't be able to turn a blind eye to that. We decided to just keep an eye on him, but now I wondered whether we shouldn't have made some sort of stink about him being there.
I'd have to talk to Evgeni about it. But for now, I had to protect Sarah.
“Steve, I said no,” Sarah said, though, pressing her hand against the man's chest and trying to push him away from her.
“Oh come on, we both know you could use a good fuck,” Steve growled, trying to force Sarah into the cab.
I moved before I had even fully processed the situation. “She said no, dick,” I snapped, grabbing Steve's wrist tightly enough that he had to let go of Sarah's arm. Steve, in turn, tried to punch me, but he was drunk, and he wasn't quick enough. I shoved him back away from Sarah, and he stumbled away, looking enraged.
“This is none of your business,” he snarled.
“Sarah is one of our managers,” I said angrily.
“We're two consenting adults,” Steve said.
I laughed derisively. “Didn't look like she was consenting to shit,” I said.
Steve lunged at me, fists swinging wildly. I easily dodged his drunken flails and just shoved him out of the way. I had better things to do than to brawl in the streets, especially right in front of my family's establishment. If Uncle Evgeni caught wind of this, I doubted he would be pleased, even if I told him that I was just defending Sarah.
But Steve luckily managed to catch a glancing blow to my cheekbone, and that was enough to spur me on. I decked him squarely in the temple so that he crumpled to the ground. Then, I hefted him up and pushed him into the cab like that, somewhat surprised that the guy was still sitting there. But then again, his rear door had been open the whole time, and he'd probably been too scared to get in the way by closing it.
I dug through Steve's pockets and came out with his wallet. I plucked out one of his credit cards and handed it to the driver. “Drive him around until he wakes up and tells you where he lives,” I instructed.
The scared-looking cabbie nodded, and they drove off.
I turned back towards Sarah, who was huddled in her coat, looking scared. “Thanks,” she said immediately.
“Are you okay?” I asked her. “He didn't hurt you, did he?”
“Might have some bruises tomorrow, but I'm okay,” she said. “That's way better than it could have been.”
I nodded and then took a step closer, realizing that there were a few stray tears falling down her cheeks, gleaming wetly in the streetlights. I wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but I wasn't sure how she would take that since Steve's unwanted advances had been what upset her in the first place. Still–
“Why don't I walk you home?” I suggested.
Sarah shook her head. “I'm all right,” she said, bravely gathering herself.
“Come on, you probably don't want to be alone right now,” I reasoned.
“I live pretty far away,” she said, shaking her head.
I shrugged. “I've got nothing better to do,” I said. “Or you could come back to my place instead. It's not far from here.” I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth; no doubt, she thought I was trying to get in her pants, just the same way Steve had been. That wasn't what I meant at all, I just really did want to...comfort her.
It was a strange feeling. But then again, I had sisters. I could only hope that someone would comfort them if they were in the same situation. Of course, if they had been the ones in Sarah's situation, I would have killed the bastard who dared put his hands on her.
“I'm all right,” Sarah said again, her face totally closed off. And I knew I couldn't keep pressing her or else it made me no better than Steve. Finally, reluctantly, I shrugged.
“Have a good night,” I told her.
Sarah nodded and turned away down the street.
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