Chapter 2 - The Man at the Corner Table
Lena arrived at Arno's at 6:52.
She carried an envelope containing two hundred dollars.
At exactly seven, a tall man entered.
Dark suit.
Silver beginning at his temples.
Controlled expression.
Three men entered behind him but remained near the door.
Lena swallowed.
The stranger approached her table.
“Ms. Park?”
“Yes.”
“Nikolai Voss.”
She stood.
“I'm Lena.”
“I know.”
Something about that answer bothered her.
They sat.
Lena immediately pushed the envelope toward him.
“Two hundred.”
Nikolai didn't touch it.
“You came prepared.”
“I said I would.”
“You always keep your promises?”
“I try.”
“Even expensive ones?”
“Especially expensive ones.”
Nikolai studied her.
Lena shifted.
“Are you going to stare at me all night?”
That surprised him.
“Most people don't speak to me like that.”
“Most people probably aren't paying you for scratching your car.”
The corner of his mouth moved.
“Keep the money.”
Lena stared at him.
“What?”
“The scratch doesn't matter.”
“You said eight hundred.”
“I wanted to see what you'd do.”
Her expression hardened.
“You lied to me?”
“I tested you.”
“That's a nicer word for lying.”
Marco, standing across the café, looked toward them.
Nobody talked to Nikolai like this.
Nikolai leaned back.
“Fair.”
Lena pushed the envelope closer.
“Take it.”
“No.”
“I damaged your car.”
“And I've decided not to repair it.”
“That's not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“My responsibility doesn't disappear because you're rich.”
Nikolai went still.
“How do you know I'm rich?”
Lena gestured toward his suit.
“Your cuff links probably have better health insurance than I do.”
Nikolai laughed.
Marco nearly dropped his phone.
Lena looked suspicious.
“What's funny?”
“You.”
“Great.”
She stood.
“Sit down.”
It wasn't loud.
But it was unmistakably an order.
Lena's eyes narrowed.
“Don't do that.”
Nikolai blinked.
“Do what?”
“Talk to me like I'm one of your employees.”
Nobody in the room breathed.
Then Nikolai said quietly, “Please sit down.”
Lena considered it.
Then sat.
Marco looked as if civilization had just ended.
Nikolai folded his hands.
“What do you want to do after graduation?”
“Restore paintings.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere that'll hire me.”
“That's your ambition?”
“My ambition is eventually to restore museum pieces. My immediate ambition is making rent Friday.”
“What if somebody offered you a job?”
Lena became cautious.
“Doing what?”
“I own several historic properties. Paintings. Murals. Antique interiors.”
“I don't accept charity.”
“Neither do I offer it.”
Their eyes met.
“I would expect professional work.”
“Why me?”
“Because you damaged something valuable when nobody was watching and took responsibility.”
“That doesn't make me a good conservator.”
“No. Your academic record does.”
Lena froze.
“My academic record?”
Nikolai realized his mistake.
“How do you know my academic record?”
He didn't answer.
Her expression changed.
“You investigated me.”
“I verified who scratched my vehicle.”
“You found my university records?”
“Public information.”
“My employment?”
Nikolai remained silent.
“My apartment?”
“Lena—”
She stood.
“No.”
“Sit.”
She glared.
Nikolai corrected himself.
“Please.”
“No.”
She grabbed her bag.
“You don't get to investigate my life because I scratched your car.”
“You're right.”
That stopped her.
Nikolai stood.
“I crossed a line.”
Lena looked genuinely surprised.
“I don't hear powerful men admit that very often.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then maybe practice.”
She placed the envelope on the table.
“I'm still paying for the scratch.”
Nikolai watched her leave.
Marco approached.
“That went well.”
Nikolai gave him a look.
Marco cleared his throat.
“Relatively.”
Nikolai picked up the envelope.
Inside were ten twenty-dollar bills.
And another handwritten note.
First payment. I'll send the rest.
Nikolai stared at it.
Marco asked, “What now?”
Nikolai slipped the note into his pocket.
“Nothing.”
But three nights later, someone broke into Lena Park's apartment.
May you like
And suddenly doing nothing was no longer an option.
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