Page 5

Suddenly, everyone goes quiet. There’s a weird response. Power exudes from this man, and he frightens me. “Do you need a drink, sir?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his steely eyes. “I need an answer to a question, if you would be so kind as to oblige me.”

“Uh, sure.” What choice do I have?

“How long have you been working here?”

My belly drops and my pulse pounds. Is he going to complain about me? What did I even do? “A week.”

“A week,” he repeats, like he doesn’t believe it.

“Yes.”

“Seven days.”

Sweat slides down my neck. “Yes. Do you need anything?”

He stares, seeming angry, but I can’t figure out why. “No,” he says stiffly.

I carry the tray from the table, wondering what the heck that was about. I’ve got enough to worry about. I don’t need strange questions from intimidating men.

“Were you talking to Viktor Barinov?” A voice comes from behind me.

“You almost made me drop my tray! Springing up like a darn bucking bronco.”

I gasp when I realize what I’ve said… to my supervisor. I almost let out a prayer.

“It’s nice to know you’re human,” she says with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

I want to ask her why she’s suddenly being nice to me.

“I should get back to it,” I mutter.

“Wait – hold on a sec. How do you know Viktor Barinov?”

“I thought we were busy.”

“Hey, this is work related. Sorta.” She gets closer.

“I don’t know who he is. He only wanted to know how long I’ve worked here.”

“Huh, I wonder why,” she mumbles to herself,

“Who is he?” I ask.

“You don’t know what kind of restaurant this is, do ya, honey?”

“Maybe not,” I admit.

“Aw, you’re precious.Maybe. No, you’re lost. That man was Viktor Barinov, the leader of the Bratva in this little town, and on the other side, you’ve got Nico Moretti.” She makes air quotes. “He’s a hedge fund manager if you can work that one out.”

“Is he in the mob?”

“Bingo.”