Dmitry's Closet Nelson, S. (best reads TXT) 📖

in from every stretch of the United States, Europe, Asia, Africa and mother Russia. I want this to be international house of style for southern belles of Memphis, and I want you to make them feel as though they cannot get this experience anywhere else in city.”

Royal felt a little tipsy from the wine and vodka that she had earlier, so she sat back on the bed as she listened quietly. Dmitry went on like a professor in a lecture series about his marvelous ideas for the store and what he expected from her. During which time, he barely looked at her or took a breath, rather he looked towards the ceiling and around the room, as though he was envisioning the tasks that he was laying before her come to fruition before his very eyes.

When he finished, he zoned back in and realized that Royal was still sitting there.

“Did you get all of that?” he askedwith a half-smirk on this face.

“It’s a grand plan, Dmitry,” she sighed and shook her head. “But as much as I want it, why would you pick me? I don’t know anything about rich people, rich women, or expensive designer clothes. I mean, Jeez. I’m poor. Have you checked out my suit?” She pointed at her clothes and sneered.

Dmitry stood listening to her quietly berate herself with his hands folded against his large chest and his eyes glued to her mouth, not only listening to what she was saying but how she said it. Such doubt. He finally spoke, cocking his eyebrows as he did so.

“You are not rich. Okay, but you are beautiful, and you are mysterious and what you do not have, you must learn to fake, until you can obtain it. Trust me. I know little something about this.”

Dmitry was mildly entertained by the humble creature. She was so beautiful, it was hard to look at her, yet one did so with ease because of her constant humility. She was a marvelous spectacle to him, only she did not know that she was a spectacle at all.

“I don’t want to let you down,” Royal professed, feeling a little overwhelmed. “This is a lot to offer any one person. It’s a great opportunity.” She sighed.

“May I come in?” Dmitry asked, still behind the thre-shold of her bedroom. He looked down at the doorstep menacingly but never let his large leather shoe cross it.

“I’ll come out,” she said, very happy to keep the barriers intact. Quickly, she walked out of the bedroom and followed him down the long corridor through the large living room to the breathtaking dining room, where they both sat at the elegant wooden dinner table.

Dmitry sat down across from her with ease. His long body sprawled out in the plush velvet-bottom seats as he crossed his legs. His swagger was almost too much for Royal. Did he intentionally try to seduce her?

His ice cold blue eyes were fixed on her as he began to talk. His baritone treble was silky smooth and crystal clear. It shook his Adam’s apple and the words that twisted menacingly around his accent. Yet, he talked with ease and his voice soothed a lonely, dark spot in her heart.

“When I first came to this country, I was just a little younger than you. I was not poor, but I was not rich like I dreamed of becoming. So, I faked it until I got where I wanted to be. It’s not easy, you understand, but it is not hard, if you think of other option.”

“What is the other option?” Royal asked, sitting across from him with her hand on her face listening carefully.

He sighed and smiled. “The other option is to fail – to go back to your family with your tail tucked between your legs and pray that someone has mercy on you.” He leaned forward pulling her deeper into their conversation.

“I don’t have a family that will take me back. And I don’t have a tail to tuck.” She did not blink.

Royal’s game face emerged. While she did not always master a thing, she did not believe in quitting. And to assume or presume that she would, hit a nerve that created a faint sense of offense in her tone.

Dmitry instantly picked up on it and enjoyed the fru-stration and desire that boiled in her stomach.

She breathed heavily as she listened, her cat-like eyes burned through him, and the veins in her neck pulsated. He watched her – nostrils flared – make her case. Royal was a fighter. He could tell.

“Well, now’s the time. Tell me what you think that you have to offer. I think that I know, but it means nothing if you don’t know yourself,” he lectured.

“Well, I may not have the best grades, but I don’t have the worst. I may not have two dimes to rub together, but I have pride. If you want me to do this job, and you trust me to give it my all, I will, because I’m no coward. If I do it, I’ll do it right and face every challenge head on. I just want you to know up front that I’m no glamour queen. I’m not part of the in-crowd, and I don’t come from money.”

“Well, good. Because neither do I. We’re just couple of people chasing the American dream.” Dmitry smiled.

She was incensed that he had insinuated that she could not perform.

He liked that. He liked her.

Royal smiled, eased by his observation. “Okay then, if you’re okay with that, I’ll do it. I’ll run your shop.”

“I have great confidence that you will,” Dmitry said.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a key. He stopped as she reached out.

“Has man ever given you apartment on first date?” he asked playfully.

“No,” Royal said as she reachedout and took the key from him.

“Well,” he hunched his shoulders. “There is first time for everything.”

Chapter 3

The airstrip stunk of burned rubber and jet fuel when the latch snapped open