We were flying over the South of France. It was about time for the descent, breakfast was already over, and the business-class passengers were still enjoying their cup of coffee. I just woke up, so I skipped breakfast and simply asked a flight attendant for some tea. Once I opened my eyes, all my thoughts of late came rushing back.
My beloved younger sister was getting married. It wasn’t jealousy that I felt; I was concerned about whether I’d still be able to call her at 3 am after watching a super interesting movie, eager to discuss it urgently. I wasn’t sure if I could suggest, ‘Hey, let’s escape to Paris for two days just because it’s spring and there’s an interesting exhibition,’ followed by hitting a nightclub and dancing until the morning lights.
A year before, we saw a skinny dog at our local market in Houston. All we had to do was exchange glances of support and confidence in the right decision; so, within twenty minutes the puppy found himself in the back seat of my car; half an hour later we named him Rocky, and just an hour after that, Vicky and I bought him a leather collar, a food bowl, and a fancy doggie bed. By the way, he chewed on the collar right away, and then spent a year sleeping in my bed. And now this spoiled little pup is hanging out in a big room at a doggie hotel, since our whole family is already in Italy. We are starting with a bachelorette party in Portofino, with the wedding at Lake Como to follow. I knew that I wasn’t losing my sister; I was losing the best partner and companion in the world. We used to do everything together, even dreaming and planning our lives out. And now she is going to do it all with Nicholas instead. I am being a bit selfish though; I should be happy for my sister. She is so in love and happy that Nicholas proposed to her, and now they are getting married in just a week. However, I don’t like Nicholas, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve been sincerely trying to like and accept him, but I just can’t. For the very first time in my life, I am not able to share it with my best friend, my sister, I’ve been always telling everything about my feelings and emotions. Victoria won’t like it at all if I confess that I am not thrilled about her future husband, since she is so in love with him.
Deep in my thoughts, I didn’t feel the turbulence right away, only when it became pretty intense. The flight attendants quickly picked up the remaining food and drinks from the tables. The pilot announced over the PA that we had to bring up the chairs and buckle up, all the usual stuff. At first, I didn’t even care that much, but suddenly the plane started shaking like a rollercoaster. That scared me quite a bit. The pilot spoke again and announced that due to a strong thunderstorm he would have to choose an emergency landing in Nice instead of Genoa. What on Earth? How was I supposed to make it on time to my sister’s bachelorette party? That evening they were expecting me in Portofino.
After half an hour of unimaginable turbulence, we finally landed in Nice, and the pilot announced that the airline was going to organize a ground transfer to Genoa. In the meantime, all the passengers were invited to the airport lounge to enjoy some light beverages. I gathered all my books and magazines in a rush. I was hoping to read them all during the flight. Instead, I was going in and out of sleep the whole time, thinking about my sister’s wedding.
Due to the poor weather, the lounge was overcrowded. Many other planes were also forced to land in Nice. Quite a crowd formed at a café, but to my surprise, I noticed one available small table with a chair. I rushed to that table since I hadn’t had a chance to have a cup of tea on the plane. With my internal clock on American nighttime, I had to somehow get energized and adapt to the local time zone. The only available waiter was frantically running between the tables, pulled in all directions by those willing to make an order. I also waved at him, but he didn’t even glance at me.
Suddenly I heard a calm but energetic voice next to me.
“Excuse me! Could I order a cup of coffee?”
Both myself and the waiter immediately reacted to that voice. I turned around and saw a man holding a hundred-euro bill in his hand. I know, it’s Nice, French Riviera, and they are all used to the rich people’s generous gestures here. The waiter figured out right away that bringing coffee to that gentleman would let that bill successfully change hands. He nodded and hurried to the bar to prepare the order and then receive his ample tip.
I don’t like this kind of behavior. There is a line for drinks, and you have to observe it. Not my style. My face was probably saying it all, because after a long Transatlantic flight and all the turbulence it would be difficult to smile politely instead. I didn’t have a chance to turn away before the man caught my stare and spoke up.
“I just truly value my time, and don’t want to wait like everyone else.”
I didn’t even know how to react, so I offered him a tense smile, looked away, and saw the running waiter with a steaming cup of coffee.
“One more coffee, please.”
I glanced back and saw the man handing another hundred-euro bill to the waiter.
The waiter smiled and rushed to the bar once again. The customers stared at him and my next-table guy with a bit of annoyance now. The server quickly returned and was about to place the second coffee on the guy’s table, when the latter shook his head and pointed at me.
“This is for the lady.”
The smiley waiter moved the cup onto my table and disappeared. Now all the customers gave me a side eye. Another one that managed to skip the line!
I felt taken aback. What an awkward situation. I got up, picked up the cup, and put it back on his table.
“Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”
Our eyes met, and suddenly my heart skipped a beat, and then began beating really fast. I had never seen such a piercing strong stare before. I blushed, taken over by a wave of embarrassment, while he kept studying me in a calm confident manner. It seemed he realized that he had made me blush. He liked it, so he smiled at me.
“This is for you… Sophia?”
I froze in amazement.
“How do you know my name is Sophia?”
“The monogram on your tote reads SR. Judging by your accent, you are American. You don’t look like Samantha or Susan, so I believe you are Sophia.”
“There are so many other names starting with an S!”
“But you are Sophia.” Once again, he gave me that slightly arrogant grin of his. I tried to think of more S-names, but he calmly stopped me.
“What’s the point? I’ve guessed your name, Sophia. So why waste time and keep talking about it?”
“Oh yes, you don’t like wasting time!” I exclaimed, expressively glancing at his two expensive cups of coffee.
He smirked at me again.
“Are you sure you don’t want the coffee? It’s getting cold.”
Now I stared at him arrogantly, raising my eyebrows.
“Thank you, but I don’t want any coffee!”
I turned away and sat back down, got a random book out of my tote to try and pretend to read it. Except all I could think about was whether he was going to speak with me again or not. Honestly, I really wanted that to happen. There was something about that man.
Suddenly a phone rang which made me flinch. I turned to the man again and heard him quietly speak on the phone in a foreign language. I paid close attention and realized that it was Russian. I smiled. My Mom is Russian, so even though I don’t speak fluently, I understand the language pretty well. So, this man is Russian. He’ll be so surprised when I tell him something in his native language.
At that moment, an airline rep showed up and announced the baggage arrival, as well as the transportation availability within three hours. Three hours! This is France, after all. If they say three hours, it might end up being five or six. So, I won’t make it in time for my dear sister’s bachelorette party. There is only one solution left: renting a car and driving myself from Nice to Portofino. I am not a big fan of driving in Europe, but that seems to be the only way.
I turned around to say goodbye to the Russian, but his table was now empty, with two cups of coffee on top of it. I felt sad and somehow lonely. I took a picture of those two pricey beverages, smiled, and went looking for our baggage claim.
I looked for the Russian with my eyes by the crowded carousel, but he wasn’t there anymore. Suitcases kept appearing, except mine were nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t believe it that now my baggage was missing, to boot! I ran to the Lost Baggage desk.
“I am going to a wedding! Do you realize that all my dresses, shoes, and jewelry are in these bags? Also, my outfit for tonight! I’ve been planning this for six months; what to wear for the bachelorette party, how to dress for the first and the second day of the wedding! And on top of this, the gift for my dear sister is there too!”
The airport worker barely understood me. With a bored expression, he advised me in his bad English.
“I am sorry, madam. Leave us your address in Genoa, and we’ll deliver the baggage within a couple days.”
“I am going to be in Portofino, not Genoa, and only for three days.”
“We’ll deliver it to Portofino if you provide the address.”
I gave him the address, but I could only hope for a miracle after seeing hundreds of people from canceled flights at the Nice airport. Half of them looked miserable, and the other half couldn’t get access to their baggage. The worker showed me the way downstairs to a car rental desk.
I walked towards the escalator. My bag full of books and magazines was hurting my shoulder. Excellent. They are the only things in my possession for my sister’s wedding. I smiled to myself bitterly.
I made it downstairs and was stunned by the number of passengers willing to rent a car. That’s just my luck. I doubt I’d be able to get one. Sure enough, once I came closer, all I could hear from the rental company reps was “Sorry, madam, no more cars left” and “Sorry, sir, we don’t have any more cars for now.”
“But I have to be in Portofino today.”
I heard a familiar voice and stood up on my tiptoes to see above the crowd. There he was, that Russian from the café.
I broke through the crowd to reach him. After all, I needed to get to Portofino urgently, as well. I walked up to him and touched his shoulder.
“Hi, remember me? I am Sophia from the café. You guessed my name right and bought me a cup of coffee.”
He stared at me in so much amazement that for an instant I wondered if maybe he talked on the phone in some other Slavic language, not Russian.
“Do you think I have such a bad memory that I forgot what happened half an hour ago? I remember that you don’t like coffee. Your Russian is good.”
“My mom is Russian, and my dad is American. My sister Victoria is fully bilingual, and I have been a lazy student.”
He glanced at me and said, “Your mom used to be a model, then she met an American, moved to the US, and had two daughters.”
My eyes went round with astonishment. Was he some sort of clairvoyant?
“Don’t fret. I just always analyze everything and put two and two together.”
“Excuse me??”
“Well, you said your mom was Russian, and you are–” he suggested, scanning me up and down, “–you are stunning too, so I assume you took after your mother. You also said you dad was American. Traditionally, decades ago, pretty Russian girls dabbled as models and often ended up marrying foreigners. Here you go; no magic at all.”
And he grinned at me.
Really? No magic at all? After what he had said about my mom and then called me stunning, I just couldn’t help blushing a bit. At that moment I wasn’t even sure whether it was from that compliment or from the feelings the Russian awoke in me. There was certainly some magnetic power and magic in him.
I was so taken aback, I couldn’t help just standing there smiling pensively, and I completely forgot why I had approached him in the first place. I was simply enjoying standing next to him.
I am stunning! So, he likes me! I kept smiling at him, and if, at the moment, he had told me “Let’s go” I would have followed him without asking where.
Instead, he inquired, “Do you want to rent a car too, then?” which sounded more like “Why are you hanging out here?”
This ridiculous situation made my face red again. Why do I always feel at a loss for no reason? I glanced at him with a smile.
“I see how many people are trying to rent a car. Seems like you are heading to Portofino, as well. Maybe we could share a ride? I absolutely have to be there tonight for my sister’s bachelorette party. They are expecting me.
“Splendido Hotel?”
I had enough of his correct guesses. “Yes, at Splendido.”
“I’ve witnessed plenty of those bachelorette parties over there. The hotel is popular with rich American ladies.”
“Yes, so my sister picked it too.”
“How unusual,” he said with a slight irony.
“Maybe not, but Vicky and I made an agreement about it when we were young. When I was fifteen, with Vicky being thirteen, we travelled through Italy with our parents and stayed there. One evening we had dinner at their restaurant, with beautiful noisy American girls nearby, and the bride was the prettiest of them all. That’s when my sister and I decided that whoever marries first would host her bachelorette party at this hotel.”
He scanned me with his stare again, as if checking whether I suddenly had a lazy eye, and he could have spoken too soon when calling me stunning.
“So, you are not married yet.”
For some reason, he made me feel shame for not having a husband. Okay, I am not married, but I am only thirty and haven’t yet met anyone I would like to spend my life with. Honestly, that’s none of his business. I was just about to let him know, when a young Frenchman handed him car keys and explained where the vehicle was parked. The Russian thanked him in decent French and rushed to the escalator going down.
I stood there simply stunned. He didn’t even say goodbye and just left. Fine, I can get my own car. Spending several hours on the way to Portofino with such an ill-mannered man? No, thanks. What a disappointment.
Suddenly I saw him turn around, find me with his eyes and yell to reach me through the crowd.
“Are you coming or not?” He threw his hands up in the air, astonished.
I grabbed my bag and darted towards him.
“I wasn’t sure whether you agreed to drive me to Portofino or not.”
“I cannot leave you at the airport all alone,” he said.
He grinned again. “Okay, so you are my responsibility all the way to Portofino.”
“Why?”, I asked, confused.
He threw his hands up in the air again. “I am Russian, you are almost Russian. I am a man, and you are a woman. So, let me take you to the wonderful Splendido Hotel.”
With a cheerful smile, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, as if slightly pushing me.
“Let’s go. The traffic might not be great, and I also have to be in Portofino today.”
“Are you visiting friends?” I asked.
“No, it’s a business trip. A man that I would really love to collaborate with is in Portofino right now.”
“So, you have some meetings there?”
“Yes. So where is your baggage; haven’t you picked it up yet?”
Suddenly he seemed worried by the fact that I might still need to go get my suitcase.
“No, I tried but it’s not here.”
“Is it on its way to Nepal?” he quipped.
“Not funny at all. All my dresses are in those suitcases! The bachelorette party outfits, the wedding ones. A gift for my sister. My shoes! I have no clue what I am going to do. This is a true disaster.” My eyes filled with tears.
“Sophia, we’ll be driving through beautiful France for merely an hour, and then we will cross over to Italy, which is just as good for buying dresses. No need to create a problem where there is none. We are going to purchase some outfits for you. I have some time to help you with this, but only if you stick to speaking English with me; I need more practice.”
“Your English is really good.”
“I strive for perfection in everything. Get in the car.”
We came up to a small green Renault Clio.
“Is this our car?” I asked, slightly taken aback.
He smiled cheerfully and placed his bag in the tiny trunk.
“This car cost me a small fortune!”
“Oh yes, I remember your bribing tricks.”
He shut the trunk and we got in the car. That tiny Renault seemed a bit small for him, and he looked almost pathetic at the wheel.
“What matters most is getting straight to the correct freeway from the airport, A10/E80. I will drive, and you help me navigate; do we have a deal, Sophia?”
“We do.” Right then I realized I didn’t know the name of my Russian guy.
“So, what’s the driver’s name then?” I asked cheerfully.
“Alex. Alexander. Just please never call me Sasha.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Within twenty minutes we jumped onto the right freeway. Weirdly enough, the road wasn’t busy, but it started raining heavily. Alex was focused on driving, while I couldn’t help sneakily checking him out. His hands were confidently resting on the steering wheel; he has beautiful hands with an expensive watch on his left wrist. No wedding band though. It pleased me that he wasn’t married.
Then I checked out his profile. He was squinting a bit, since it was difficult to drive and see through the rain. His neat hairstyle fit him perfectly. “This Russian is quite an attractive man,” I told myself.
Suddenly he turned to me and asked, with his magnetic smile, “Do you like what you see?”
I flinched, because I didn’t expect that question at all.
“I can barely see anything due to rain,” I lied to save my face.
“It seemed to me that you were checking me out, not looking out of the window. Don’t feel embarrassed.” He noticed me blush. “I was just kidding.”
I glanced at him and chose to stay quiet.
For a while we were riding in silence. I tried to turn the radio on, then to stare at the sights, then to check my email on the phone, but couldn’t help going back to glancing at Alex. There was some unique harmony in his face. Was I falling for him? No, I told myself; one can never fall in love so quickly, plus I never lose my head in such a short time.
“If you want, we could stop in Monaco, at this famous store Pavilion. I am sure you can find a couple dresses for the wedding there,” suggested Alex.
“I know that store, but not sure they still have a good selection in the middle of summer.”
“Don’t worry; Elena, the owner, is a friend of mine, and she always has something special for the loyal customers.”
I just couldn’t help wondering. “Are you one of these loyal customers?”
“I used to be, until recently,” Alex replied with a certain sadness in his voice.
Soon we arrived at the main square of Monte Carlo and were lucky to find a parking spot.
“I am always lucky with parking.” Alex joyfully winked at me. “Let’s go get you something sexy.”
I glanced at him with resentment. “Don’t need anything sexy, just elegant.”
He opened the door of the fashion store for me.
“Sophia, women should always dress sexy; isn’t that just natural?”
I didn’t appreciate this approach to the female gender.
I was about to talk back to him, when I heard a unique tender voice, sweet like honey.
“Sasha, dear, what brings you here? Haven’t seen you all summer.”
A young woman with a glass of champagne was walking towards us. She was quite a looker. She was wearing a white sundress and lots of gold jewelry: bracelets, neck chains, with golden sandals to match.
“It’s all because of the storm. We landed in Nice instead of Genoa due to strong turbulence.”
He gently put his arm around my shoulders. “Elena, please, meet Sophia. We were on the same flight and now are trying to get to Portofino by tonight.”
Elena extended her dainty hand for a handshake. “Are you Russian? Do you speak Russian?”
“I am American, but I speak Russian.”
“Sophia’s suitcase is on its way to Nepal, but she is going to Splendido Hotel for her sister’s wedding.”
“Splendido is a lovely place.”
“We are only doing the bachelorette’s party there, but the actual wedding is at Lake Como,” I explained.
Elena smiled and took my hand. “That’s an excellent choice. Let me show you some dresses. If you come here with Sasha, I always have something extra,” she said, smiling at Alex with all her teeth.
I looked at him too, but he wasn’t paying any attention to Elena, only to me; and this made my heart almost jump out of my chest. He grinned and followed us to the dressing area. Elena gave energetic instructions in French to her assistant, and the latter walked away, probably to get my dresses.
There were stylish gray couches and a sparkly coffee table with a bouquet of solely white flowers on top in front of the dressing rooms. It was definitely a well-designed space.
Alex shifted slightly on the couch to make room for Elena as she sat down next to him, her laughter filling the room. Her champagne glass wobbled dangerously, threatening to spill its contents.
“Would you like some champagne?”
“No, thanks,” we replied in unison.
“I am driving,” he explained.
“Driving? Where is your driver?” She sounded surprised.
“He’s in the US. I wasn’t planning to come to French Riviera at all this year. Been so busy. Only here for a couple days on business in Portofino.”
At this moment the assistant showed up with a variety of outfits.
“Try them on, Sophia. Monique will help you.”
I walked into a dressing room consisting solely of mirrors. Monique had already put all the dresses up on hangers; all of them being haute-couture outfits from Valentino, Elie Saab, Dior.
I hesitated about buying anything, wondering if maybe my suitcases would be delivered on time. Still, I wanted to try them on. My first choice was a pink Valentino dress: puffy, flowy, a true princess outfit. Monique buttoned me up in the back, fixed all the wrinkles on the skirt, and without asking, opened the door of the dressing room right in front of Alex and Elena on the couch.
They went silent and took a thorough look. Elena walked up and tied a bow in the back which Monique forgot to do.
Alex and I were watching each other closely. He obviously liked the dress or me in that dress, but he didn’t say anything.
“It works really well for you, Sophia, but please try an Elie Saab, too,” said Elena.
“Thanks, but maybe I need something less formal for the bachelorette party. A cocktail dress, not a long one.”
“Sure.” She said something fast-paced to Monique again, and the latter ran away. Elena followed her, and I was left to stand there all by myself in the pink dress because I wasn’t able to take it off without help.
“You look amazing in this dress. You’ll be the prettiest girl at the wedding,” confessed Alex quietly. My cheeks burst with color again.
“Thank you. I will just try one more, and we can go. I won’t be choosing long.”
Alex nodded and stayed silent. There emerged some weird tension between us, with me standing there in the pink dress and him watching me from the couch. Then Elena came back with a little black dress embroidered with beads.
She looked me up and down. “This one should fit you like a glove, since you are fit. Do you wear dresses without a bra? It’s a backless dress.”
I blushed because this was asked in front of Alex but took the dress from her hands. Monique brought me some more outfits and we went back to the dressing room, while Elena parked herself back on the couch with Alex.
Monique began carefully undoing a million buttons on the back of the pink Valentino, while I was just patiently standing there.
“Irina came yesterday,” I heard Elena say. “In a foul mood; tried lots of outfits but didn’t buy anything. What happened between you two? You were such a nice couple. Do you want to see what she tried on? Maybe you can surprise her and send her one of the dresses she liked.”
I stopped breathing for a moment. There is some Irina in Alex’ life, and they used to be a nice couple.
“I am not interested in what Irina tried on anymore. She now has a life of her own,” said Alex in a voice of steel.
“Okay, no more questions,” replied Elena calmly.
I put on the black dress, and it really fit me like a glove, but for me it was too sexy and revealing. Once again, Monique opened the door wide, without asking.
Alex and Elena turned to me again. “Super!” exclaimed Elena.
“It’s an amazing dress, but a bit too revealing, in my opinion. The whole back is open.”
Alex was again watching me in silence, and I just couldn’t read his mind.
“The choice is up to you, Sophia, but we have to go,” said Alex calmly.
I tried on a couple more dresses, but Elena convinced me to buy the black one.
“We are going to steam and pack them for you.”
“Can you have them delivered to the hotel?” asked Alex. “I am running late for my business meeting in Portofino.”
“Certainly, my driver will bring them to Splendido in a couple hours,” replied Elena.
“Will this work for you, Sophia?” he asked.
I nodded and was about to take out my wallet to pay, when Alex quietly told Elena, “It’s on me.” Then he turned around and walked to the door.
“Send the bill to Monsieur Rodionov,” Elena told Monique in French.
“Wait!” I exclaimed. “I will pay for the dresses myself.” Then continued calmly. “Thanks, no gestures needed. I can buy my clothes myself.”
He glanced at me with a bit of annoyance. “Okay, then you pay, and I will wait for you in the car.”
He kissed Elena on both cheeks, the French way, and walked out.
Elena handed me an astronomical bill. Seeing my reaction, she explained in decent English that even the Valentino boutique was sold out of this dress. With it being already the middle of summer, she just had to save some for her loyal customers. That’s why the price was a bit high. I could have argued with her about the “a bit high” part, but instead I just gave her my credit card. I was thinking about something else at that moment. While waiting, I couldn’t help googling Alexander Rodionov.
There he was. Plenty of photos and articles. I looked through the latest news about him: moving to the US, selling all his businesses in Russia, arguing with his partner, fighting corruption, and divorcing his wife Irina Rodionova in winter. I just had to google Irina Rodionova next. She is a stunning woman! A brunette with finely cut features, a perfect smile, and a gorgeous body. She was incredibly stylishly dressed in all her pictures. She was definitely one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
“Oh, she is quite a beauty! But difficult to deal with,” reacted Elena standing behind me.
I flinched and put the phone away. I got so immersed in reading I didn’t notice her coming back.
Elena handed me the bill in a pretty envelope and a small bag.
“Here’s a gift for you. Thank you for the purchase. You will be happy with these dresses, especially the black one if you dare put it on. And he—” She glanced towards the exit. “—is wonderful. If you manage to attract and keep him, your life will be wonderful too.”
We said our goodbyes and I ran to the car. Alex was speaking on the phone.
“Are you in Portofino? On the yacht? I am delayed due to the weather. All right, see you tonight. I have a meeting at five, but I am free in the evening.”
While Alex stayed on the phone, I checked Elena’s gift, Good Girl Gone Bad perfume by Kilian. I smiled, because I had wanted to buy this fragrance several times, but the name appalled me for some reason. Now, when my baggage was on its way to Nepal, according to Alex, this perfume would come in handy.
Alex turned to me with a smile. “Do you love your dresses? They look great on you. Sophia, it wasn’t any kind of gesture. It’s just that I brought you to Elena, to save time, knowing that she always had dresses in stock. But I was also aware of the prices she charges. This store was convenient for me, so I wanted to pay and not put you in an uncomfortable situation.”
“The dresses are pretty, but I will return them if my suitcase gets delivered in the evening. The prices are indeed exorbitant.”
“Don’t return them, especially the black one; it’s like it was made for you. Allow me to still gift it to you, just like that. I simply love beautiful women,” he added with a chuckle.
“Is beauty only about the dresses?” I asked, surprised and disappointed.
He gave me a long and somehow tender stare and quietly replied, “No, of course not.”
I turned to the window. I wanted to tell him about the beauty of the soul, kindness, caring, but I didn’t want to sound boring, discussing these subjects. There was no need to sound preachy.
Suddenly I heard his joyful, almost laughing voice. “But beautiful women in beautiful dresses, it’s a double benefit! Boys will be boys, whether you like it or not, Sophia.”
I was about to argue that not all boys are like this, when he abruptly changed the subject. “My former business partner and a good friend with his wife are also in Portofino now. They’ve been relaxing on a yacht and got stuck there due to bad weather. Thanks to this coincidence, we are going to dine together tonight.”
“Nice. Have you already picked a place?”
“I have some favorite restaurants down at the boardwalk. However, I haven’t been to Portofino in a couple years, and things might have changed.”
“I’ve only been to Portofino once with my parents and my sister many years ago, but I have only lovely memories about the place, overall.”
I was interrupted by a phone call from Vicky. I told her about all my adventures landing in Nice, losing my baggage, riding to Portofino, and planning to be at the hotel within an hour. She didn’t need to worry.
“Are you close with your sister?” asked Alex.
“She is my best friend, and we are very close. I can’t imagine how to enjoy life without her. We used to travel, dream, and watch movies together.”
Alex glanced at me, as if pushing imaginary glasses towards the tip of his nose, in a bit of amazement. “Sophia, it’s about time for you to travel and watch movies with a man, not your sister. However weird it might have sounded, I noticed that sometimes a loving relationship within a family keeps children from becoming adults and building their own lives.”
“Nothing keeps me from it, and I’ve certainly tried. I just haven’t yet met a man that I would love to always watch movies, travel, and dream with.”
“You will. We usually meet such people in the most unusual places and moments.”
I mustered up the nerve to ask. “Have you already met such a person?”
“I thought so, but I was wrong,” answered Alex quietly. “Now I want to focus on something else. My new project requires time, and that’s the only thing that interests me right now. And if my meeting today goes well—I totally hope so.—I will have to fully immerse myself in that new field. And that is the only thing I try to concentrate on right now.
It sounded like the last phrase was addressed to me or maybe to himself as some sort of reservation and warning to avoid a relationship, to leave plenty of time for the new project.
We rode in silence for a bit. The rain was still falling, but the sky ahead seemed lighter, despite the approaching sunset.
I wondered what Alex’s new project could be about. Maybe he really wanted to dive deep into it because he couldn’t forget his wife, Irina? She is so beautiful and stylish. Those pictures from the Internet vividly popped up in front of my eyes again. Maybe he still loves her? All these thoughts somehow dampened my mood. What is it, jealousy or a lack of confidence? Maybe it’s only my illusion that something is happening between us, and we like each other. Can he even like me when his wife is such a beauty?
“What do you do, Sophia?”
It took me a moment to wake up to his question. “What? I am sorry.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I mostly do charity. I share my life between Houston and New York. My family and my gallery are in Houston. I bring a lot of promising New York artists to my city, organize their exhibitions, sell their work, and forward profits to charity foundations helping children and young artists. I love my job and contemporary art. I adore New York. I am truly grateful to my parents for giving me a chance to do all that.”
“Do you mean, you don’t really need to earn your living?”
“That too, but in the US, people don’t brag about this.” I felt slightly embarrassed. “I mean, I am the head of the charity department in my dad’s company, and I have an excellent budget to help young artists and children in need. You might not believe this, but I work a lot.”
“Why, no. I believe you. Charity is a hard labor, and the enthusiasts in this field always work a lot. If it is real charity.”
“If you ever come to Houston, visit my gallery and see my projects. My events are big, and all the money goes towards children’s needs. We have no salaries in the gallery; it’s all volunteering. So, to change the subject, we both flew from New York earlier. Do you live there?”
“I bought an apartment with a dreamy view near Central Park last year. You won’t believe it but if I start on my new project, I will spend a lot of time in Houston.” Alex paused for a moment and added, “I will definitely stop by your gallery, Sophia.”
Once again, he gave me an inquisitive glance, as if trying to figure out whether I was worthy as a distraction from his new project or to compare me to his wonderful ex-wife.
I couldn’t help thinking he was calculating something in his head. Or maybe they were just my fantasies, and I was of no interest to him at all. Then I am not interested in him either. It wasn’t true though. That guy knew how to impress. I looked at him again, and my heart stopped for a moment, and then started beating stronger. I turned away, but his image stayed in front of my eyes. I smirked. I definitely cannot say I am not attracted to him.
“What is this your new project about?” I asked Alex.
He gifted me with yet another of his long glances.
“I am superstitious, Sophia, like all Russians are. Better not talk about things before they happen.”
“That’s what my mom always says,” I replied, smiling. “Do it first, then talk about it. It’s true; probably all Russians are superstitious.”
I didn’t know how to continue the conversation. I could only think of some commonplace things to say, but I so wanted to be interesting for him. I really strived to impress him as much as he impressed me.
Suddenly my phone beeped, and a photo of happy Rocky at the doggie hotel arrived as a text message. I smiled and kissed the picture. Alex stared at me funny, so I showed him my phone.
“This is my dog, Rocky. They’ve been sending me his updates from the doggie care. He is happy and doesn’t miss me at all. I miss him terribly though. He is an incredibly empathic and smart dog; he is my true friend.”
“He certainly misses you, Sophia! Dogs are such loyal creatures. They feel attached to us. I have a black Lab called Max, and because of moving to the US, I rarely see him. I hope to bring him over soon.”
“Poor pup! Who is taking care of him now?” I asked compassionately.
He turned away and mumbled, “He is in my former house in Moscow, with my ex-wife.”
I didn’t ask any more questions remembering his talk with Elena, when he made it clear he had no desire to discuss his ex.
I realized all of this could be caused by one of two things: he was either depressed due to their breakup, or, on the other hand, he got fed up with her.
More silence followed, and it just kept raining heavily. I saw a road sign letting us know that Portofino was now only three miles away. I got overcome with sadness, knowing that my adventure with Alex was coming to an end.
“Almost there,” I said.
“Yes, I’ll quickly drop you off at the hotel and will head to my meeting.”
“Are you staying in this hotel too?”
“I was thinking about spending a night in Splendido too, but since my friend Alexey is here, I think he will provide a cabin for me on his yacht.”
Soon we exited the freeway and rode up the road to Portofino. I realized that Alex was quite familiar with the directions to the hotel located on top of a mountain. Thanks to such a location, the hotel was buried in verdure, with splendid views onto the bay.
Within five minutes, our tiny Renault parked by the main entrance to the hotel. Instead of feeling joy about seeing my sister and attending the bachelorette party, I felt a bit sad. We arrived, which meant that our adventure came to an end and our short connection was over. I realized that my travel tiredness and my lack of confidence didn’t allow me to get Alex interested in me as much as I wanted him to. Interested enough to get my phone number or to invite me to dinner the next evening. Seemed like I could only dream about it.
Several hotel employees ran over to us and opened our car doors. The concierge helped me out of the car. “Welcome to Belmondo Splendido.”
Alex also exited the car. He quickly explained to the concierge that his baggage would stay in the car, and he was about to leave. Then he came up to me.
“Here’s your hotel, Sophia. Your dresses will be delivered soon, too.”
“Yes. Thank you for driving me to Portofino.”
I was looking at him, he was looking at me. There were definite sparks flying between us, after all.
He came closer, took my hand, and whispered: “We will see each other later, Sophia. I am not saying goodbye.” He squeezed my hand even tighter. “Wear your black dress tonight; and while dining with my friends I will think about the beautiful Sophia somewhere here, in Portofino, wearing a small black dress with an open back.”
He lightly brushed my back with his fingers, kissed me on the cheek, got in the car, and drove off.
I was just standing alone in front of the hotel. My soul was singing; he liked me! At the same time, I welled up. He didn’t ask for my phone number, and he doesn’t know my last name. How are we supposed to see each other again?
But it’s okay; I am here for my sister. I got myself together and walked into the hotel.
