The Lies That Bind

Chapter 18: Stranger Things

As soon as I'm back home, I hurry to my laptop and search through Norton's job listings. Hope is quickly snatched from me as I scroll past the endless list of jobs that either isn't in my field or that I'm unqualified for. That is, until I see one for the maternity ward as a mid-wife, my field! Well, in truth, I've never gotten the chance, but I do have the papers to become one. I click the link eagerly, desperately skimming through the post. Everything checks out so far.

And then I see it.

"Master's degree required." It reads.

I hang my head in shame. Of course, that's what I need, the one thing I don't have. The horrid memories of having to drop out of university flood my mind; I can see my withdrawal letter resting on my lap. If my previous job hadn't closed, I would have had the funds to finish my Master's program in nursing. With the bachelor's basically replacing an associate degree, higher certification is basically necessary. What's better is that with my degrees and training, I'm now too qualified for entry level pay. At the same time, without the Master's I'm underqualified. With an awful emptiness in my stomach, I take a sip of my wine. 1983 Baldwin Brothers, take me away...

Which reminds me, I need to talk to Kaz about the money issue. As I take another sip of merlot, the doorbell rings. My brow arches; I wasn't expecting visitors. I backtrack to my texting session with the Doctor and a smirk creeps up on my lips. The man simply cannot get enough of me!

Lark meows sleepily from his spot beside me before letting out a big yawn as I rise up from the couch. Trying to not seem too excited, I hurry to the door and open it without bothering to check. In hindsight, that was a stupid idea. As I open my mouth, I immediately shut it once my eyes rest upon a tall, pale man who is not my boyfriend or anyone I recognize. His dark hair and eyes match the suit he's wearing, the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly as he smiles down upon me. He looks a little older than Kazmir, 40s perhaps. My mirth fades instantly and I look back at him deadpan, doing my best to hide my disappointment, but not my irritation.

"Yes?" I ask simply. I swear to God if he's a solicitor.

"Good evening, Devushka," his voice is overflowing with an eastern European accent and, judging by the use of "Devushka", I can only assume he's Russian. The sound of his gravelly voice using a name bestowed upon me by Kazmir makes me uncomfortable. He doesn't seem to notice, or care, however. "I was wondering if you know a man by the name of Kazimir Kolomna?"

'Kazimir?' I wonder, 'Did he misspeak?' My eyes narrow at the man, if he knows Kazmir why come to me to look for him? I fold my arms indignantly in front of my chest.

"No." My tone is cold and stern, "Now if you'll excuse me sir, I have things to attend to."

The man's smirk only widens further, but he seems to step down as he nods his head gently. "Of course, Devushka," he murmurs, "sorry for wasting your time. Enjoy the rest of your evening." He turns to take his leave, but not without taking another glance at me. His gaze makes my skin crawl; it just seems so... creepy, mischievous and scheming. I want nothing to do with it and I hope I never see him again. I quickly close and lock my door. A shiver runs down my spine; I feel violated somehow and make a beeline for the shower.

The sensation of his lecherous gaze is still with me after my hour long hot shower. I shudder; I will definitely need to talk to Kazmir about it. Suddenly, my doorbell rings again, but this time I'm a skeptic. I quietly tiptoe over to the front door, dressed in only an oversized sleepshirt. As I gaze through the peephole, I spot a familiar face. One who appears to have food! Despite my regained eagerness, I open the door hesitantly. I don't want strangers (or the neighbors) seeing me in basically nothing.