That Summer In The Country

Thirty-five:

Thirty-five:

Alina was getting ready for dinner when Mal appeared in Aleksander's office. He was supposed to be on vacation, but he had never been able to simply sit and do nothing. He was reading e-mails in his study when his brother burst through the door, anger in his eyes. "What are you fucking up to?" Mal demanded.

"Working," Aleksander said tersely, "what are you doing, besides interrupting me?"

"Genya's here!" he spat. "She's celebrating her engagement this weekend. Tell me you didn't know about that. Tell me that this wasn't on purpose. That you're not trying to get me to start shit with her."

He raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about Mal?"

His brother glowered at him. When it appeared that Aleksander wasn't going to back down, he plopped into the seat across from him. "She's getting married!" Mal spat. "She's marrying someone fucking Zoya introduced her to."

"Shit," Aleksander muttered.

Mal sat there with his face in his hands. "Did you fuck Genya?"

There was a long pause. "What's bringing this up?" Aleksander asked.

"Someone gave me a letter, on the night of the accident. I always thought it was Genya. I always thought she was talking about you...."

Aleksander shook his head. "Mal, I'm older than you. Or are you forgetting? I'm not in the habit of bedding teenage girls."

Mal snorted. "Really? You want to go there, knowing that Alina is here?"

"Alina's eighteen. She's legally an adult. She has been, from the moment that I met her. It was her birthday. Nothing untoward has happened between us. And, if you had been a couple first, nothing untoward would have happened then, Mal. You are my blood. My family."

"I'm your cousin," he reminded him, "I'm expendable."

Aleksander glared at him. "You're not expendable, Mal. You're the only person in this fucking place that understands what it's like to be a Morozova. Whatever you think, we've got that in common. That's everything Mal. But come on. Be honest with me. Are you really heart broken over Alina? Because if you are---"

Mal shook his head. "She's a sweet girl, but I know she isn't going to end up with me."

Aleksander leaned back in his seat. "What makes you say that?"

"Come on," said Mal, "you really think father's going to let either one of us marry the servant's niece? We're bartering chips with him, Aleks. The only reason you haven't been forced into marrying someone is that you haven't done anything to piss the old man off. Me, I breathe, and he wants to ruin my life. I was surprised that he didn't marry me off the moment that those pictures went viral of Alina."

"He probably hasn't seen them yet. And father doesn't control everything about our lives, Mal. You can say no to him."

"You're inheriting," Mal reminded him, "for all we know, we'll be lucky if he leaves me the clothes on my back in the will. Oh, by the way, we've been invited to Genya's engagement party. You, me, and Alina. Won't that be cozy?"

Aleksander stiffened. "You know I can't go to that. There will be press there. It's too public."

"Well, I can't go with Alina," Mal said, "I told Genya that you were squiring a girl about. It will be suspicious if I show up with a date when I didn't mention one."

"And if I go, everyone will know that I'm with Alina," said Aleksander, "and that would completely defeat the purpose of you pretending to date her right now."

"How long do I have to keep that charade up, by the way?"

"Until she graduates," said Aleksander, "don't worry. I suspect she'll be done by December. Maybe sooner, if we give her a little incentive."

"What are your plans for her?" Mal asked. "You aren't just going to dispose of her like the others, are you?"

Aleksander shook his head. "I have a plan."

"That's all you're going to tell me?"

"Of course," he said, "besides, what do you care? You've said yourself that you don't think that Alina is your future."

"That doesn't mean I can't still care about her. I'm more of her friend then you are. It's different between us. What we have---"

"Is because I allow it," Aleksander reminded him.

Mal sunk in his chair. "I've told you that you're an absolute dick, right?"

He chuckled. "Many times. Listen, we can't promise the future. But you are going to dinner with us, and then we're going to bring her back here and have some fun. Maybe, we'll even have some fun while we're at the dinner."

"Dessert on the table?"

"Oh no," said Aleksander, "nothing like that. But we'll have our fun, you know. We always do, don't we?"

"Of course," said Mal, "any idea what I should get my ex-girlfriend for her engagement party?"

Aleksander chuckled. "No fucking clue."

"I don't want to go to this thing, but I saw her, and I was a teenager again..."

"You are still a teenager," Aleksander reminded him.

"You know what I mean, old man."

"I'm not old. I'm distinguished, like Clooney."

"Sure. Keep on telling yourself that. Just be glad that Alina is fooled by that act and doesn't get bored of you." Mal was staring at him again in a way that unnerved him.

"Can you tell me why you're still looking at me why you want to kill me?"

"Genya said something...."

"What?"

"She made it seem like you-----"

"Like I what?" Aleksander asked.

"Nothing," said Mal, "it's nothing at all. Um, I'm going to go get showered and uh, I'll meet you downstairs for dinner."

"Right. Mal, are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yeah," he said, "of course."