22:10 - Part I - The Crooked Chain of Ghosts

Chapter 4

Nikolai stepped forward into the bar on the top floor of the Ararat Hotel and was met by one of the immaculately dressed, striking hostesses, no doubt selectively recruited. She smiled at him. "Good evening, sir. May I help you?"

"Good evening," he replied, "I'm meeting someone who is already here."

She waved him through and followed him until he reached a few descending stairs. "Please watch your step," she advised.

"Thank you. I can find my way." With a nod, the young lady left.

As Nikolai proceeded down the steps, the city of Moscow rose before him as far as he could see. He was awestruck and, for a moment, forgot himself. The mixture of structure and luminescence seemed endless until it merely faded into the horizon.

He looked around through the sparse crowd spread out around the bar and finally saw her outline at a candlelit corner table. She had seen him first but sat motionless, simply staring back at him.

As he approached, she stayed in the deep-cushioned chair, looking out over the city.

"That's the Bolshoi down there just below us. Amazing, is it not?" she said as he arrived.

"I've never been," he replied.

"Nor have I."

Nikolai thought everything about her was elusive. Even her appearance: Raven-black hair just above the shoulder. Crimson glossed lips. The black straps of her tea-length cocktail dress invited the eyes toward the revealing v-cut neckline. It was low to the point that anyone would be tempted to imagine her shape and elegance when nude. But the martini-glass stem she held with the fingers of both hands blossoming upward reversed a meandering glance like sudden punctuation. It was as if she, herself, were also seeing every detail of her stunning mien from an outer perspective. And like some kind of dire muse, she exploited this awareness to draw a person in just close enough to unnerve them.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," she said flatly.

"It's not so easy for me to get away anymore," he replied as he sat down across the small round table.

"Has your wife begun to suspect our meetings?"

"Not exactly."

She caught his implication.

"Oh really," she said with a raised eyebrow and turned to look at him squarely.

"Nataly, I love my wife. I truly love her. She's everything to me. I don't like lying to her. This has to end tonight. This is the last time."

"You control that."

"I'm ready."

They fell silent as the waitress arrived and lowered some hors dʼoeuvres onto the table.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" the waitress asked.

"Nothing, thank you."

"Come now, this bar does a miraculous mint julep," Nataly prodded him.

"I'm not in the mood."

"We have time. I'm paying," she said, winking at the waitress.

"Really, no."

Nataly frowned at him playfully. "Very well then. Just the bill, please," she said to the waitress who then left. "You must play the part, Nikolai."

"I'm tired. This is too extravagant, too visible. Why here?"

"It's a good cover. It's a perfect place for the Moscow nouveau riche to meet their escorts. We are not drawing attention, and these people know how to be discreet. They don't say much if someone comes asking questions later; they're professionals. The room is on my credit card, which is not unusual when a businessman does not want to leave a paper trail of his philandering."

"Is that the reason for the dress and lipstick?" he asked.

"Exactly. Well-dressed illusion is the preferred reality these days, Nikolai. You should have learned that by now."

"Not my reality." On that point they settled at a draw and both starred out the window silently for a moment.

"And how is your wife?"

"Perplexed. My behavior is stressing her."

"She's handling your behavior gracefully. She'll be fine," Nataly said. Nikolai looked puzzled. "Your apartment is bugged. So is her office space. I've been listening. She is not 'perplexed' enough yet to discuss it with anyone. I admire her. She's remarkably stoic in nature actually. It's impressive. "

"What? How dare you!" he leaned toward her and yelled in a whisper.

"I don't take chances. It's for your safety as much as mine. You would do the same," she said. Nikolai gave her an agitated look but settled down. "What will you do after this is over?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Be a husband and a father again. Repair the damage. Going back to the things I should be doing now."

His words lingered over the table.

"You're a good man, Nikolai. A very good man. I respect that. Men like you are in short supply these days." He gave her no response. "Yes, you must continue your search for the new apartment and school. Those are important things these days," she added, raising her glass and toasting him slightly for good luck before finishing off her drink as the waitress again approached.

He gave her another agitated look. She must have been listening to all of his discussions with Tatyana. She probably knew more about the current state of his marriage than he did.

Nataly opened the leather cover and glanced at the bill, placed cash inside, and waved "no change," as they stood up.

"Thank you. Good night," said the waitress and walked in front of them to the door.

Nataly leaned back and whispered to Nikolai, "Touch my back and smile when we pass in front of the hostesses."

He reluctantly complied, but it was an intimate, sensual touch.