Becoming Rain (Burying Water 2)

At what terms? Is he thinking about a partnership? Going halves? Would he try to rip us off like Vlad and his father do? Impossible to say, and I want to talk to Rust before I make myself sound too interested. For now, we have an immediate problem to handle. “How much is this deal going to cost us?” I push.

“I’ll tell you what—I’ll take a cut for red-tape cost and I’ll pass on the rest to you. Just this once, though, as a token of my appreciation for your trust, and a gesture of goodwill. If you are happy, then we can talk about a partnership. Fifty/fifty. You and Rust get me the cars and I’ll ship and sell them.” He’s smooth in the way he speaks. Obviously well educated. Definitely more pleasant to deal with than Vlad. “How does that sound?”

Too easy. But if Rust trusts him . . . “I think we can live with those terms.” I wasn’t supposed to commit to anything, but how can I not commit to that?

His laughter immediately relaxes me. “You remind me of Rust. I’m very glad we met.”

So am I. Walking into Aref’s office and asking for help face-to-face has been a million times easier than picking up the phone to call Vlad.

“I need to get back to my guests, and I believe you have a lovely lady to entertain out there.” He fills my glass with more scotch. That’s forty grand, by my calculations. Enough to buy a decent car. I’ve drunk a car tonight. “I’ll find you as soon as I hear something.”

“Thanks, Aref.”

The second we part ways, I dial Rust. “I’m waiting, but it looks like it’s a go. At cost.”

I hold my breath and wait for him to berate me, but he only says, “Good.” I can hear him sipping a drink on the other end. Likely vodka. He’d bathe in it if he could.

I drop my voice to a hiss. “Fuck Andrei. Why aren’t we working with Aref?”

“Come find me at The Cellar when you have an answer.” The phone call ends, leaving my frustration skyrocketing. Why the hell is Rust even talking to those other idiots when Aref’s sitting here, practically begging?

Chapter 16

CLARA

“You have a beautiful home.” I follow Elmira down the path, lit by flaming torches that dance under the slightest breeze.

She smiles. “Thank you. It’s my favorite out of all of them, I think.”

She says it casually, but I roll my eyes nonetheless. Maybe it’s her prim Londoner accent that makes her sound so snooty. We sweep around a small pocket of guests and reach the dock. She glances down at my shoes. “You should remove those. I’ve broken plenty of heels over the years.”

Over the years? I’m still wondering if she’s even considered a legal adult. Regardless, I listen and slip my shoes off to save myself the embarrassment of hobbling home.

Elmira leads me down, down . . . down . . . past the speedboats, along an impossibly long dock that branches off, and toward the rope and a sign that reads, “Thank you for not boarding.”

“I didn’t think you could dock a boat like this privately,” I murmur, taking in Elmira’s name scrolled across the side.

“Enough money buys anything.” I follow her as she ducks under the rope. “This is Aref’s pride and joy. He bought it for me for my eighteenth birthday.”

“Nice birthday gift,” I offer, silently thinking back to my eighteenth birthday and the six-pack of woolen socks and case of Budweiser that my boyfriend at the time bought me. I didn’t like beer then, either.

“Aref can be a very generous man.” Something about the way she says that sounds off. Before I can ponder too much, she leads me through a narrow door and into an interior painted with money, in the form of shiny chrome and crystals and lacquered mahogany walls. The metallic ceiling reflects, and the sleek lighting illuminates, cocooning us in luxury.

It’s easy to forget why I’m here as I trail Elmira down marble winding staircases and narrow hallways, weaving in and out of small but lavish cabins, through three floors of sleek living spaces and open decks of white leather banquettes and wet bars.

“Do you spend a lot of time on here?” I ask as we end the tour on the top floor, a deck next to the captain’s command room. Elmira punches a code into a panel and the ceiling begins sliding open, revealing the yacht’s sunroof, now blanketed by an expanse of stars over the Columbia River.

“We usually spend our winters in the Cayman Islands. It’s quite comfortable on here, even though it’s a boat.”

“That sounds nice.” And unfortunate, given that I’d consider squatting if they happened to store this boat in a marina over the winter.

“We also sail along the Pacific seaboard every summer. It’s my favorite thing to do.” Elmira disappears behind a small bar to produce a bottle of Champagne and another glass. She delivers one to me without asking, even though I’m still nursing the full glass of wine in my hand. Normally I’d just dump a little at a time while no one was looking, but a place like this must be laced with surveillance video. Getting caught doing that would raise questions I don’t want asked. “Have you ever been on a cruise?”

I don’t even pretend. “No.”

“Well, we are here for a few more months. Perhaps we can host you and Luke one day soon.”

I’m sure it’s an empty offer, but I say, “I would love that.” If I can get enough dirt on Luke to convince a judge that this is worthwhile, maybe I’ll be around until then. But that’s a long time to string him along, hiding behind the guise of a physically abused woman still learning to trust men again.