I whispered, “Mom, you can’t say that too loud.”
“If the West doesn’t forgive the Syndicate, then they would be in their right.” She dabbed behind her sunglasses. “I hope Leo rots in hell.”
I hugged her.
She whispered in my ear, “Is she the one, my love?”
I leaned away and let her go. A shy smile appeared on my face. I wiped it away, remembering my men surrounded us. “I should walk you to your limo.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “She calls you Dima.”
I took Rose’s hand, knowing she didn’t understand what my Mom meant.
Mom pouted. “Dima?”
I kept a stern expression. “Mom, we’ll talk about it later.”
“With my face, you can’t tell. But, I’m getting old, Dima.” She moved her glasses and looked up into my eyes. “It’s time for grandkids.”
Shocked, I held up my free hand. “Mom—”
“No more funerals. I want to wear pretty dresses and go to weddings, birthdays, and baptisms. This is sad!”
I leaned forward and kept a low voice. “Mom, we shouldn’t talk like this now here.”
“Why not?”
“We’re at a funeral.”
“Isn’t this the best place to talk about life?”
“No. Actually the theme is death.”
Rose gave me a sad smile.
Mom waved my comment away. “I want to celebrate life today. And I need a drink.”
I let out a long breath, knowing what was coming next.
“I want you both to come to dinner with me. I’m hungry and I’m sad and I don’t want to be alone.” Mom pointed to Rose. “And her hips are wide and strong and she has a beautiful face, Dima. Give me one baby to hold in my garden.”
Apparently, she’s had a few drinks too.
A tear spilled down her cheek.
I wiped it away. “Mom, that’s enough.”
Rose gave out a nervous laugh.
“See.” Mom pointed to her. “Rose is completely fine discussing grandkids.”
I placed my hand in my pocket and played with the king chess piece.
Mom eyed me. “Are you both coming to dinner or not?”
I frowned and looked at Rose.
Her smile brightened. “I think it would be nice.”
“I really am liking her.” Mom clapped and gently took Rose’s hand.
Both women walked off. Not sure what side to get on, I went to Rose’s free hand and grabbed it.
A second later, I caught my mother smiling at me. “Edwin said you fired the Chef last week. Why, darling?”
“Please, stay out of my kitchen.”
“I will, when you have a nice, young woman overseeing the duties of your penthouse.” She smiled at Rose. “Until then, I have to struggle with the burden of being the Lady of the Penthouse.”
“That’s not a thing, Mom.”
28
Herring Under a Fur Coat
Rose
G
ray clouds hovered over. While it had stopped raining, I was sure that more would come soon. The clouds hung heavy and dark.
Most of Caviar Lime Highway was flooded.
Mrs. Ivanov’s house must’ve been in the North, but outside of Paradise.
We rode her pale yellow limo away from the city. Minutes later, her chauffer took us off the highway and down a two lane road outlined by mountains and farm country.
I sat on Dima’s left. His mother sat across from us and watched me with a tickled expression.
So far, I wasn’t sure what I thought of her. Clearly, she was a beautiful woman. Her hair was a mixture of gray white and light blonde. Her face appeared pampered like she’d had surgery on it and stayed connected with all new spa and beauty inventions.
And her style represented the highest level of elegance and sophistication. Her black double-breasted blazer was tailored to perfection. I guessed it was Versace due to the side stitching and peak-lapel design. Black Jimmy Choo heels completed the look.
There was no doubt she meant business about her beauty.
“We should chat.” Mrs. Ivanov crossed her long legs. “Dima’s rebel phase was very odd.”
“Is story time necessary, Mom?”
“I’m sure Rose wants to learn more about you.”
I smirked. “I would love to hear about Dima’s rebel phase.”
She leaned forward and looked at me. “Once, Dima returned home for summer vacation and declared that he would be a rapper.”
“No way.” I opened my mouth in shock.
“The security would hear him freestyling in the shower.” She shook her head. “He was horrible with his rhyming scheme, yet there were very intelligent messages.”
Dima frowned at her. “Because you know tons about hip hop?”
I laughed.
“I was just happy you didn’t pick country music.”
The limo left the road and turned into a massive estate. Large gates appeared. At the top of the iron gate, white valiant unicorns guarded a huge yellow rose. I gaped at the structure as the limo drove under it.
Mrs. Ivanov spoke, “Did you have a rebel phase, Rose?”
“According to my family, my rebel phase hasn’t ended.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Ivanov leaned in and winked at me. “You’re the black sheep?”
“I am.”
“I was too.” She shook her head. “My family expected me to marry. And when I did, I was supposed to serve my husband—cook, clean, and have his children. No one asked me what I wanted to do.”