Russian's Innocent Love (Drobilka Family Series #1) (2 page)

Unsure what to do with the rest of her day, Bethany stopped at a grocery store. As she was leaving, she happened to see a bulletin board with an assortment of job listings and items for sale. One of the listings was for a server in club owned by the Drobilka cartel. There weren’t any more paper tags to grab, so she pulled the whole flyer down. As she sat in the car, waiting for the air conditioning to kick on, she tossed the idea around in her head. They had told her that she had to find a way to get close and since she wasn’t one to drink, she couldn’t see spending her time flashing her breasts in clubs and pretending to be drunk. And well, the thought of having to dance filled her with dread.

She jumped when she heard someone rapping on her window. Looking up, two blondes were hopping up and down and waving at her. Even though it had been five years, she recognized them immediately. She climbed out of the car and was grabbed into a group hug as squeals of joy bounced back and forth. Stepping back, she smiled at her old high school friends, Susan and Charlotte.

“What are you doing back in town? We thought you moved to New York?”

“Do you have a boyfriend? Are you married?”

“How is your aunt? Is she still growing pot?”

“What happened with your dad, er step-dad? How’s your mom?”

As questions shot out of their mouths, Bethany started laughing as she put up her hand to stop them. “I decided to come back to UT for graduate school. No boyfriend or husband, too busy studying. Last I heard, my relatives were still alive and fine.”

As the girls continued to chatter, Bethany couldn’t help but notice neither woman appeared to be sweating.
How was that even possible in this heat?

Leaning heavily against her car, she called a halt to all the talking and made plans to meet up with them later for dinner and drinks. Well, they could drink.

As she got back into the car, she realized that so long as no one knew that she was a graduate of the FBI Academy, hooking up with some of her old friends might be good for her cover. That is, assuming no one was placed in any danger. Sighing, she put the car in gear and headed back to her apartment to decide what to wear to apply for a job at a strip club.

Chapter 4

Later that afternoon, Bethany stood outside the Rubicon, second-guessing her decision to seek employment at a business owned by the Drobilka cartel. If they found out who she was, she was dead. Or worse. Sighing, she looked down at her too tight jeans and V-necked t-shirt that exaggerated her cleavage and headed toward the entrance hoping that the club would be more like the reign of Augustus Caesar and less like Caligula.

As she walked inside, she took note of the lounge areas scattered around the room framed in floor to ceiling curtains. There were dancers on various platforms swaying to music that was more sensual than sexual. A bouncer stepped up to check her ID and she took the opportunity to ask about employment. Pointed to a group of men sitting together, she swallowed hard before walking over to them.

They seemed to turn in sequence as each one became aware of her.

“Did you want something?” a heavily-accented man, dressed in a suit, demanded.

Holding up the flyer, “I saw this-” she started.

Before she could finish, the same man interrupted her, “We don’t need anyone else,” he shot back before turning back to the table. As the other men started to resume their conversation, Bethany turned to leave.

“Wait!”

Turning back, one of the men stood up from the table and walked toward her. Dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt, he had the sleeves rolled up and the shirt partially unbuttoned revealing a scarily muscled body heavily covered in tattoos. Lifting her head, she caught her breath at his storm-colored eyes, surrounded by a face that appeared cut from stone. His hair was shorn in a typical crew cut, and he wore a day or twos worth of beard growth that was begging to be touched.

She took a step back as he stopped in front of her, looking every inch a predator in wolf’s clothing. She wasn’t sure if that clenching she felt in her stomach was fear or arousal, as she had to lift her head to look him in the eyes.
Why are women attracted to bad boys,
she asked herself. Taking the flyer from her, he looked down at it.

“This is written in Cyrillic. How do you know what it says?”

Remembering her cover, “I’m a language major at UT,” she answered, unsure what else to say.

“So you speak Russian?” he asked her in Russian.

“Dah,” she answered.

“Where did you learn it?”

“Rosetta Stone,” she answered as he gave her a skeptical look. Holding her hand up, she smiled. “It’s true. They had them at the library near where I lived.”

Suddenly of interest to the other men at the table, the first man asked her, “What other languages do you speak?”

Not willing to give them any more information than necessary, she answered, “I’m presently learning Spanish.”

The conversation picked up as the men began discussing the benefits of having an American who understands Russian. Turning back to her, the first man asked, “And what were you looking to do here?”

Pointing to the flyer that was no longer in her hands, she replied, “It says that you are looking for servers.” As the men continued to talk, Bethany began to fume, as she listened to them discuss her too thin body, too tall height, and the relative merits of her breasts. As she crossed her arms and stared at them in agitation, she realized that the second guy was still standing in front of her. Shifting her gaze, she blushed when she saw him staring at her. “Um, is there something I can help you with?” she asked, unsure what else to say.

“Have we met before?”

Shaking her head, “I don’t think so, I haven’t been here that long,” she answered and then inwardly winced at giving too much away.

“Oh? Where were you before?”

Deciding that it was best to be honest, but not too honest, she answered, “I got my bachelor’s degree from Barnard, in New York.”

“Isn’t that a women’s college?”

“What difference does that make?” she demanded as she stared at him.

Shrugging his shoulders, he turned back to the men at the table. “She’s hired. We’ll see how she does.” As the men nodded in immediate agreement, he turned back to her, “You’ll start Friday. Be here at seven to be fitted for a uniform and training. If you don’t work out, you won’t be back.”

Realizing that she was dismissed, Bethany turned toward the exit. As she passed the same bouncer, she stopped to ask him about filling out an application, but he started to laugh.

“They do not care about such things,” he told her, as he continued to laugh as though he’d been told a grand joke.

“Um, don’t they even want to know my name?”

“You’ll get a new name when you start,” he told her before walking away.

Walking out into the late afternoon sun, Bethany stopped to wipe the steam off her sunglasses. She swore that she would never again get used to this humidity.

Chapter 5

When Friday rolled around, Bethany was filled with dread at the prospect of working at the Rubicon. She had checked out the uniforms while she was in there and while they were skimpy, she should be able to keep most of her torso covered. Having been given the go-ahead from Marci, excitedly so, to take the job, she had managed to talk her out of wiring her up until she had worked there for a while. They agreed to meet again to go through the photos on the different members of the cartel the following Monday.

As she drove into the parking lot, she saw a separate lot off to the side marked “employees only.” Parking her car, she took a quick inventory of the cars before walking inside. She was met by a woman who introduced herself as Sasha and proceeded to give her a quick tour of the place. As she walked through the main area, Sasha pointed out the various VIP sections, where she would pick up her drink and food orders, as well as gave her a quick rundown of their limited food offering, which comprised mostly fried finger food.

“Have you ever worked as a server before?”

Bethany nodded. “I worked as a waitress at a small restaurant when I was in high school, and I volunteered at a soup kitchen.”

Rolling her eyes, Sasha turned around to look at her. “Well, expect to be groped regularly, so never carry too much on your tray at any one time. If someone becomes too pushy, flag down one of the bouncers and let him take care of it. Never, ever try to handle it on your own. And don’t ever drop anything on a customer’s lap. Some of these people are danger…. Well, let’s just say that you don’t want to piss them off. Smile politely and get out of there. The dancers will take care of the men when they aren’t on stage; that is NOT your job,” Sasha finished, as they ended up in back. Pointing to a series of tables and lounge areas to the left. “That will be your station. Come, let’s get you a uniform.”

Entering the employee area, Sasha pointed out the break room along with a large dressing area that was for the dancers only. Walking past, she entered a room that looked more like a gym locker room. Along one wall were racks of costumes ranging from togas to slave costumes. She sized Bethany up and pulled a simple slave costume off the rack.

“That should fit you. Go get changed and put your things in an empty locker. Be sure to take the key.”

As Bethany found an empty locker, she quickly shed her clothes and slipped the uniform over her head. Stepping in front of the floor-length mirror, she adjusted the simple sheath to accentuate her waist and what curves she had without showing too much skin. Sweeping her hair up into a cascading ponytail, she finger-curled her hair.

She jumped when a deep male voice interrupted her thoughts. “You will get more tips if you show more skin.” The man who hired her was standing at the end of the aisle looking at her.

“How…how long were you standing there?”

“Not long,” he answered with a smile. He reached to adjust her costume as he stepped forward. Bethany froze when his hand brushed across her, as his touch seemed scorching. Looking up at him startled, she could see that he wasn’t unaffected. As he parted the costume along her belly, her hand popped up to cover his. Swallowing her now dry mouth, she stepped back to adjust the dress, but not before he caught sight of her skin beneath. He readjusted the costume so that all her skin was covered again.

“We all bear some sort of scars,” he murmured as he stepped back to make sure that nothing was showing. “But some are worse than others.” Looking up at him, Bethany wasn’t sure how to respond as she suddenly felt more vulnerable than she had in years. She nodded her head in assent, not sure she could speak.

“You need a name.”

“Bethany.”

He shook his head. “Not here it isn’t. Something else.”

Closing her eyes, she began to offer names, “Sapphire, Seneca, Sheila…”

Grasping her chin, he tilted her head up as she opened her eyes. “Your eyes aren’t blue enough to go by Sapphire. Seneca doesn’t suit you. Sheila it is.” Bethany kept staring at him, still too shocked to move. As he continued to look at her, she suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss him, but he dropped his hand, stepped back and started to leave.

“And you?” she asked.

Turning around, “What?”

“Your name…what should I call you?”

“My name is Vadim, and I will see you out on the floor.” And with that, he was gone. After he left, Bethany sat back down on the bench, too flustered to move. Never in her life had she ever been affected by a man like that. Let alone from him barely touching her. Closing her eyes, she went through the list of known cartel members, but she couldn’t recall anyone by the name of Vadim. If that was his real name.

Gathering herself together, she looked at herself in the mirror one more time before heading out.

When she got out on the floor, Sasha was waiting for her. Handing her a mini tablet, she showed her how to use the point of sale system to take orders and where to wear it on the belt to avoid dropping it.

Customers were starting to arrive and from the looks of it, there was a bachelor party already in full swing. Bethany was glad they weren’t in her section as she spotted a table with two older men sitting in hers. Turning, she went to greet them. As she walked up, she could hear them talking as she greeted them in Russian. Taking their orders, she stopped to speak with customers at another table before going to retrieve her order.

Her first night was uneventful, as she made a point of learning everyone’s names and spending some time with the customers, which the older men seemed to eat up. Everyone in her section was respectful, unlike some of the customers in other sections, and they seemed to appreciate it when she spoke to them in Russian, although the conversations often ground to a halt when she walked over to check on them.

As she changed back into her street clothes in the locker room, she rubbed her sore feet, wishing that athletic shoes would be acceptable footwear instead of the high-heeled gladiator sandals. As she headed toward the employees’ exit, Vadim was waiting for her in the hall. He handed her an envelope with her night’s pay along with her work schedule. The club was dark Sundays and Mondays, so other than a private party, she would be expected to work Wednesday through Saturday from seven until close.

Nodding her head, she quickly sidestepped him before practically running out the door. Once outside, she took several ragged breaths.
That man is hotter than a Texas summer day,
she thought as she rushed to her car. Once inside, she turned on the air conditioning to max before driving out of the lot to head home. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see the car tailing her.

Chapter 6

Vadim couldn’t explain his decision to hire the young woman, as she didn’t fit the profile of their usual servers. For one thing, she was far too smart. If it wasn’t for her mastery of the Russian language, he would not have even considered her. Yet, he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. He was sure he had seen her someplace before, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. She had said that she hadn’t been in town long; perhaps he had seen her in a club in New York.