Little Tsaritsa

II

II

o0o

Nadezhda stared down at the seat as Arkady stood near her, holding the door of his car open. It was this, or take the bus home. The vehicle sat there, gaping open like a mouth waiting to devour her, reminding her of her decision. Was it too late to back out? She looked up at Arkady.

"Would you be more comfortable at your place or mine when we do this?" he asked as he gestured to the seat.

"I- I don't know." She paused, wondering what his reaction would be to her shitty apartment. Hell, she didn't even have a bed – she slept on a fold-out couch. She wasn't a slob, but she was far from a neat freak like her aunt was, and a small space inevitably had the various pieces of Nadezhda's life scattered through it. Dishes, clothes, books – textbooks and novels – some old CDs and mementos and the like with the only private space being the tiny bathroom. Definitely not the best place to bring home anyone she might be dating.

On the other hand, the space just might be uncomfortable for Arkady. He was obviously a man used to the finer things in life, and perhaps her apartment would put enough of a damper to the mood that seven minutes just wouldn't be enough for him. Was it worth the risk, allowing him into her personal space?

Before she could say something further, he lifted his chin.

"My place would be the best. It's more comfortable and lends more privacy, as well." He grinned at her before he motioned to the seat.

"But... I. My place-"

"It's in Ocean View, right? I know these apartments. No, you deserve better."

"How did you even-"

"Know where you lived? Your uncle mentioned it when I asked him about you and your father. Although why these apartments are called that I can not fathom why as they are nowhere near the ocean."

It was an observation she'd made when she moved in, but beggars could not be choosers. Many people in the neighborhood were poor, and Ocean View offered a practical solution in its matchbox apartments. She supposed that the builders had thought that being a few miles from the ocean afforded them the right to name the complex as such.

"My place has a much better view. I know you will enjoy it. Besides, it's closer to here."

She stared at him, imagining what he might do with the home advantage. Would he keep her captive in his apartment, chained to his bed or in a basement? Placing her hands on the top of the car door, she curled her fingers, staring at him. "How do I know I'll be safe there? How do I know that if I walk in there, I'll walk back out?"

He seemed mildly surprised. "Do you really think so poorly of me, Nadezhda?" She could almost swear she'd seen a glimmer of hurt in his eyes.

"I really don't know what to think, to be honest. This is all just..." She waved one hand in the air in a gesture of confusion and exasperation. The warmth of his hand pressed against her remaining one, his fingers curling against the back of her hand.

"Then let me tell you once and for all – I am a man of my word. All I want is to show you how much I care about you. One way or the other. Regardless of the outcome, I swear no harm will come to you."

"Seven minutes," she reminded him flatly before she slid into the seat. She did not see the triumphant smirk on his face as he closed the door and went around to claim his own seat.

"Where do you live, anyway?"

"Oh, near the downtown area. I'm one of the owners of the building I live in."