The Deal Taker (Book III)

Chapter Six - To The Happy Couple

                                                                                       Chapter Six

                                                                              To The Happy Couple

EVERYONE SEEMED TO NOTICE WHEN we re-entered the room. I had hoped we passed by unnoticed. All eyes turned to us when we entered, making me tense a little as if I we had done something horrible. Again, people surrounded us, wanting to speak with Matthew about business, marriage, and his next events. At first I thought I would wander off again alone to let them speak, maybe find an unhealthy but incredibly tasty snack, but Matthew wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me from moving. I tried to break his hold a few times I either giving him a nudge with my elbow in his ribs or trying to walk forward as if to walk towards Nicholas.

Nope.

Every time I even moved or turned my head, Matthew would tighten his grasp on me as if I were a wild animal about to take off. His face never once showed he was holding me hostage, it instead showed his usual friendly yet business-like mask often he wears. All I wanted right now was to leave this crowd, go into the kitchen, and eat everything that is the golden color of fried food. I hated this crowd and the people in it.

One man stepped in front of us, dressed in all black, with narrow eyes, a silver capped tooth, and a smile so wide I swear my cheeks were hurting from seeing it. Matthew reached out and gripped his shoulder tight, smiling nearly as friendly as the man. When the man spoke I was immediately left speechless.

He spoke Russian.

I haven't been around many people who spoke anything other than some sloppy English. I think I may have watched a movie or two involving people speaking another language, but I usually get pretty frustrated with having to read the subtitles and just give up. When you're born and raised in a poor and corrupted place, you generally are around only one type of person, which usually has a criminal record and a few tattoos. The only way I could tell it was Russian is all thanks to a spy movie I half-watched a year or two ago. The man in front of me spoke fast, cheerfully, without pausing. Part of me wanted to laugh at the situation because there's no way I'd be able to reply to him. I just smiled, even though he might have been insulting me.

And then Matthew spoke.

If I wasn't already thrown by the Russian man in front of me, I was absolutely blown right off my feet by Matthew's fluent Russian. In fact, he practically spoke clearer than the man in front of us. I gaped at him, unable to contain my astonishment as Matthew casually replied with a slight chuckle at whatever they were joking about. The man looked at me, still grinning, and seemed to say something to me I clearly had no idea what he could have said.

Matthew's breath hit my ear, causing me to jump where I stood. "Vsevolod says best of wishes to you on your wedding day. He also said you look beautiful and hopes to see you at one of his events."

Trying to hide my discomfort with Matthew being so close, I turned my attention back to the man in front of us, trying to figure out what to say. "Um, thank you so much and I hope to attend one," I replied, my eyes jumping between the man and Matthew.

Matthew gave me a light squeeze around the waist and I assumed translated what I had said. I nearly sighed in relief.

The man gave Matthew a firm handshake before strolling off with a grin. I looked up at Matthew with a brow raised high. "You speak Russian?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as if I were being ridiculous. "Do you think I'd spend my centuries twiddling my thumbs? Of course I know Russian. I deal with things internationally, not just in Chicago."