Say what you will about Nikolai—and people did talk about him, just so long as there was no chance of it getting back to his father—but the man knew how to host. Even when he wasn’t entertaining at home in his family’s veritable palace outside St. Petersburg, he had a way of making every space he was in feel like his own, and a way of making you feel like his invited guest.

The Lower-Manhattan restaurant where they dined that night was just the latest of these places. There were other people there. Some friends of Nikolai, and friends of theirs. They seemed to just kind of appear without anything seeming to have been arranged.

This was one of the pieces of Nikolai’s magic—he could just wish for company and it was always there. How disposable or memorable this company was varied greatly. But, all the same, he could always find someone of an appropriate social standing to share a meal with, on little notice or no notice at all.

And, for most of the evening, these new, temporary friends helped keep Salim from talking about the prize Nikolai was after. Oh, Salim had found a way to bend the conversation around to it a couple times, but each time he did, Nikolai wagged his finger at him—a gesture that few would dare do to someone in Salim’s family—and tell him that he wasn’t going to let him ruin his surprise.

Dinner was pleasant. It always was with Nikolai. It was how he made up for, well, everything else. They drank and reminisced, and from time to time, Salim even thought he could see the man Nikolai used to be, once long ago, when they had been boys together.

That didn’t stop Salim from constantly wondering, though, just what it was that Nikolai was after. The anticipation grew throughout the meal, just as he knew Nikolai meant it to. Salim kept coming up with guesses and then surreptitiously looking them up on his phone to see if they were possibilities.

But all of his guesses were confounded the moment the town car Nikolai had put them into crossed the river.

“We’re leaving Manhattan, Nikolai? I didn’t know you were capable. Who told you there was more city across the river? We’d been managing to keep that a secret from you for years.”

“Oh, ha ha, very funny,” Nikolai said, patting his friend’s arm. “It’s true; I don’t find there’s much worth crossing the river for. Mostly, it’s people who can’t afford the real city but want to pretend they can. Or they’ve had children they need space for, and want to pretend they haven’t. Or all those insufferable hipsters with their strange fashions, that will never have anything worth having and want to pretend they don’t care about it.”

Salim looked out the window, thinking of his favorite places in Brooklyn and wondering if Nikolai had somehow managed to discover any of them, and had a mind to ruin them for him.

“That’s a very astute analysis. You should say it outside the car. Loudly, and often. I’m sure it will make you friends over here.”

Nikolai, a little warm with drink, leaned across the car and put his arm around Salim’s shoulders.

“What do I need more friends for? I have you. And plenty of other friends too! We just ate with some of my friends.”

Salim shook his head. Most nights, he would just let a little thing like this pass. Nikolai knew how he was. He knew what he was.

But today, he still felt victorious from his auction win, and annoyed at his friend for falling into the predictable pattern and playing with him the way he was.

“Yes, all your friends,” he said. “I’ll give you five million dollars, right here right now, if you can tell me the names of everyone we just ate with.”

Nikolai slumped back over into his side of the town car.

“Oh, like you know them.”

“Of course I know them. I pay attention when people talk. I met everyone there tonight. Did you?”

Nikolai looked thoughtful.

“Just first names, or you want all of it?”

“Does it matter?”

A moment of silence, and then Nikolai broke out into a low, hearty laugh.

“Well, you saved me thirty-seven million today—what’s a lost five?”

“You know, Nikolai, you have an odd way of looking at things.”

Salim didn’t mean anything by it, but his words seemed to set Nikolai into a quiet moment. Not wanting the evening to turn, the way they sometimes did with Nikolai, Salim spoke again.

“I’ll bet your prize isn’t really much at all, is it? Just something you think is interesting and no one else would.”

“Now, there, you’re wrong, my brother,” Nikolai said, his face lighting up in a way Salim couldn’t remember seeing since they were at school. “What I’ve found out here in this over-the-river wasteland is something truly special.”