The Master (29 page)

Whatever I’d said was the exact right thing. “Oh, it is! I can’t interest Natalie. But I have oodles of pictures.”

“I’d love to see them.”

Rebecca’s gaze flicked to Jess, and she sucked in a scandalized breath. “Jessica! Where are the rest of your clothes? Must you?”

Completely deadpan, Jess said, “Becks, I
must
.”

“Couldn’t you slip on a sweater? This is why I shouldn’t have let you fire the wedding coordinator! She would have told you . . .”

“We’ll see all of you inside.” Máxim steered me away from that, and we headed into the spacious wood-paneled Grand Hall. Elaborate crown molding adorned the ceilings.
And there were fireplaces. Plural. Big ones!

About a dozen tables had seven or so seats each. Máxim found his placard, with one that read
Guest
beside it. He rubbed his thumb over it. “I suppose ‘guest’ is
as accurate as the name you told me. Give me one thing right now,
solnyshko
. Anything.”

My gaze darted. “Um, I never expected to like you even half this much?”

Good humor restored, he said, “That’ll do for now.” He curled his finger under my chin, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me right there. Then everyone else started
arriving inside.

Jess sidled over to me. “Since Natalie’s getting married, she won’t be able to give me all the attention I need and deserve. You’ll pick up the slack.” She moved
her placard to my other side.

Natalie, Aleks, Tom, and Rebecca made up the rest of the table. When we sat, Jess tossed back an old-fashioned she was holding—drank it
down
. Whoa. I expected her to swipe her
forearm over her mouth.

As Máxim made small talk with Rebecca and Tom, and Natalie teased Aleks about something, Jess said to me, “We need to discuss shoe-polishing the limo tonight.” She ordered
another drink and got me one too. “I’m open to dirty limericks. Any suggestions?”

“I’ll work on it.”

“So lemme give you the lay of the land.” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder. “At that table, we have three bridesmaids. Polly’s the corn-fed-looking blonde, and the
only one worth mentioning. The other two are lame and their invites make me wonder where Natalie’s head’s at. The three uptight guys are Russian groomsmen. My charm is lost on them, so
obviously they’re nobodies—guys who did hits with Aleks or some such shit.”

Whoa, she was talking about his hit man background aloud? Just like that?

She continued, “I was surprised by the turnout, since Natalie gave us zero notice about this shindig. The rest of the crowd is extended family of Rebecca and Natalie’s adoptive
dad.”

“Where is he?”

“He died. Natural causes. Not like her birth father.”

Across the table, Rebecca said, “So, Cat, is your name short for Catherine?”

Máxim’s gaze was lasered on me.

“They just call me Cat.” I had a crazy impulse to stand on the table and shout to everyone, “I am Lucía Martinez! I was born and raised in JAX, baby!”

“Well, it’s a cute name.”

Jess said, “Your name doesn’t suck too bad, Becks.”

Rebecca ignored her, asking me, “Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

Máxim turned his chair and faced me.

Dodge and deflect? Bobbing and weaving was difficult in the hot seat. “I’m about to finish college.”

“Oh, where do you go?” she asked.

“It’s a small private school.” Máxim would think I was lying, believing I’d denied going to college.

“You and Maksim met in Miami, right? What brought you there?”

“I like the city very much. I’m keeping my eye out for new opportunities there.” Not a lie.

“How long have you two been together?”

He smoothly interjected, “Not long enough. How could it be?”

Charming devil. I tasted my old-fashioned. Not bad.

“What’s your major?” Natalie asked.

“Business. Economics major, finance minor.” Too much information was flowing from me! I felt like a miser flinging away coins.

Máxim raised his brows, sipping his drink.

Natalie looked impressed. “I can’t even do simple sums in my head. Business was forever out of my reach.”

“But you’re getting your PhD, right? Who needs simple sums when there are calculators?”

“That’s what I’ve always said!”

Jess said, “Hey, if I sit between her and Natalie, will I get smarter? I guarantee they’ll get sexier.”

Rebecca spoke over her: “Tell us about your family, Cat.” Such a “mom” thing to say. In an arch tone, she added, “It’s like pulling teeth getting information
out of any of these Russians.”

Over the rim of his glass, Máxim said, “Yes, Katya, tell us
all
about them.”

“My mom was from Cuba. She met my father when he visited from the US.” The weight on my chest was returning.

Servers approached with the first course, distracting the table’s attention from me.
Gracias a Dios.

Under his breath, Máxim said, “How much of that was true?”

“Whatever you
think
is true, multiply that by ten. Oh, wait, anything multiplied by zero equals zero.”

“For future reference, a US citizen would have difficulty traveling to Cuba, especially twenty-plus years ago.”

“Thanks for the tip,” I said, instead of crying, “My father was an attaché there!” One day this boiler was going to blow. . . .

Over the next hour, the dishes continued to arrive. Some were Midwest Americana, some traditional Russian—both exotic to me. The cook in me relished the experience. When I tasted
pelmeni
, meat dumplings, I told Máxim, “This is really good.”

At my ear, he murmured, “I’d much rather be eating Cuban.”

I coughed and kicked him.

All throughout the meal, he kept his eyes on me. When he wasn’t indulging in the courses, he rested his arm over the back of my chair. Protective, possessive.

He wasn’t the only one studying me. Aleks seemed to be taking my measure. Even Natalie cast me a couple of quizzical looks over her wineglass.

After the dessert course—Jess inhaled her red velvet cake, then trespassed on mine—she rose, telling Máxim, “I hope you’re ready with your best-man speech.
We’re doing our dog and pony shows tonight, while I’m still coherent.”

Rebecca said, “What? You can’t! Those come
after
the ceremony.”

Jess blinked. “No. This works best for me.” When Rebecca started to bluster, Jess said, “This is how they do it in Russia. Ask Maksim.”

Rebecca turned to him. “Is that true?”

Máxim gave a measured answer, “The most prominent Russian families fairly much do as they please.”

Jess cast her a
see?
look. “In any case, the wedding coordinator ordered that this happen tonight. And who is she? Oh, yeah—she’s
me
. Relax, Becks. Remind me to
get you a Valium.”

Rebecca turned to her daughter to do something, but Natalie said, “Jess’s coup to oust the coordinator
was
successful, Mom. We’re slaves to her dictates now.”

Rebecca faced Jess. “What are you going to do?”

“A vid.” At that, she swerved toward the front of the hall, to a computer.

“A
video
?” Rebecca whispered, aghast.

“Listen up,” Jess called as she queued up a video on a large screen against one wall. “Hey,
errybody!
” When the room quieted, she said, “I’d introduce
myself, but let’s face it, my reputation precedes me, and I’ve slept with half of you. As maid of honor and coordinator for such a rush-job wedding, I did a vid instead of a speech.
You’re welcome.” She pushed play, then returned to her seat.

She’d put together a compilation of pictures from the last couple of months of Natalie and Aleks’s relationship.

Leaning in toward me, she said, “Keep your eye on Aleks in the pics. He fucking worships the ground Natalie walks on.”

It was true. He always had his gaze on his fiancée. Such devotion! Also interesting was the evolution of his expressions. At first, he looked stern and uncomfortable. As time passed he
loosened up, even giving tentative smiles.

There were pictures of an older gentleman with twinkling blue eyes—must be Natalie’s birth father, Pavel Kovalev. As Natalie watched, tears welled. Even steely Aleks was moved.

The last frame was the date of the wedding with a message from Jess. “As you go about your married lives together, always remember: Dance like nobody’s watching.”

While there were a ton of
Aww
s, I thought that was kind of lame.

Then another line appeared to complete the message. “Dance like nobody’s watching. Fuck like everyone is.”

Oh, no she didn’t! I turned to her. “There went the last little piece of my heart, Jessica.”

She air-smooched me.

Red-faced Rebecca screwed her eyes shut, but everyone was laughing. Natalie had to hold her stomach; even Aleks chuckled.

Máxim laughed, telling me, “Like I said, colorful.”

Rebecca pointed at her. “We will talk later.”

Jessica belched into her fist. “What?”

Smoothing her hair, Rebecca addressed Máxim, “I suppose if you have a speech, you should go now.”

Had he prepared one? As best man—and brother—would he mention their family? Aleks and Máxim hated their father. Their mother was dead. Natalie’s family was full—an
adoptive father and mother, a birth father and mother, and now a stepfather she clearly liked. How was Máxim going to handle that?

“Of course, Rebecca,” he said, his tone casual.

As Máxim stood, Aleks grew visibly nervous. Did he expect coldheartedness from his brother? Scheming? Natalie held his hand on the table.

Anyone else might have been tentative addressing a gathering like this, but Máxim, the politician, was all confidence. He gazed around with that
I command all I survey
look, until
the room quieted. Even Jess sat up and paid attention.

In a self-deprecating tone, he asked the crowd, “How am I going to follow Jessica’s eloquence?” Laughter sounded. Then he flashed a movie-star smile that wowed everyone. I
could have sworn I heard sighs. One rapt server paused midserve, holding a plate in the air.

Por Dios
, could he be more charming?

“I make this speech on behalf of myself and Dmitri, the youngest Sevastyan brother, who sadly couldn’t be here.” Aleks raised a brow at that.

With his deep voice resonating, Máxim said, “First, I would like to say
spasiba
—thank you—to all of you for your warm Nebraska hospitality. We from Russia
appreciate it deeply, as does my beautiful lady from Florida.” He winked at me as he said, “Who is delighted to have come with me.”

My cheeks heated, and I mouthed,
Devil.

“When I heard that my brother was to marry Natalie, I marveled at his fortune. She is everything Aleksandr could hope for in a wife. In fact, my brother heartily recommends this great
Husker State for finding brides and apparently for something called . . .
football
?”

Laughter and cheers broke out. Oh, he was
good
.

He continued, “I wish our mother Roxana Antonovna Sevastyan could have met his soon-to-be wife. She would have called Natalie her
dorogaya doch’ka
, dearest
daughter.”

Aleks’s uneasiness deepened.

If Máxim noticed, he didn’t show it. “Natalie is a credit to her family here: to the late Bill Porter—a guiding force in her life; to Tom Christianson—who’ll
proudly walk her down the aisle tomorrow; and to Rebecca”—he leveled his blue gaze on her—“the lovely and most gracious mother of the bride.”

Thunk.
I could all but hear Cupid’s arrow hitting her heart. She rested her chin on her hand and
mooned
over him. Natalie grinned and bumped her shoulder against her
mother’s. Aleks narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Addressing the rest of the room, Máxim said, “Across the world in Russia, Elena Petrovna Andropova, Natalie’s birth mother, tragically passed away before she could know her
daughter—but not before she loved her. Yet it was Natalie’s birth father, Pavel Kovalev, who brought her and Aleksandr together.”

Had I worried how Máxim would handle this speech? Natalie was in raptures. Strangely, Aleks looked like he was bracing for an inevitable hit.

“I’d met Kovalev, and sometimes crossed paths with him socially.” Máxim turned to Natalie. “As an aside, I
never
saw him so happy as he was in those
pictures with you.”

Her eyes glinted again, her hand tightening on Aleks’s.

Máxim resumed his speech: “Though our mother started Aleksandr on the path to becoming an honorable and respected man, it was Kovalev who guided him the rest of the way. Kovalev was
a gentleman of the old order who believed in the code: respect those who earn it, assist those who need it, and protect to the death all you hold dear. In his lifetime, he did
all
of these
things.” Máxim paused a moment, letting everyone in the know reflect on the sacrifice. “He raised my older brother by the code; over these last few months, I’ve recognized
that Aleksandr Sevastyan has become the man his beloved mentor always knew he could be. So no longer do I say how fortunate Aleksandr is to marry Natalie; I say how fortunate they
both
are
to have found each other.” He raised his glass to the couple. “Katya and I, as well as Dmitri, wish all blessings upon you for a long and joyful marriage.
Schast’ya vam.
Happiness to you.”

Cheers broke out, everyone drinking. Máxim had included me, like we were
together
, together.

Aleks gazed at his brother as if he didn’t recognize him. Then, weirdly, he shifted that dumbfounded expression—to me.

Natalie mouthed “Thank you” to Máxim. Turning to Aleks, she gave him an
I told you so
look.

To the crowd, Máxim called, “
Vyp’em za lyubov’!
Let’s drink to love.” This time he raised his glass only
to me
.

Jets. Overheating.
Mal funcionamiento.
My glass shook on the way to my lips.

He sat down nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just made a roomful of people claw out their hearts in tribute to him. Myself included. “How did I do?”