| Subject: Chapter 13 (long) - sorry for the wait |
Author:
Juli
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Date Posted: Friday, March 18, 02:15:44pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Angelita - new chapters (finally)" on Friday, February 18, 01:02:53pm
Chapter 13
“You got the photo I emailed?” Jurgen asked, and then listened to the reply on the other end of the phone.
“Yes, she is coming tonight. I want it to look convincing,” he told the caller.
“Perfect. Right around 10 then.” He hung up and steepled his fingertips as he thought about the evening ahead.
***
Nikita had finished dressing, when she turned at a knock on her door.
“Come in,” she instructed, going back to the finishing touches on her makeup.
Michael smiled slightly when he saw her bending close to the vanity mirror. He thought about how quickly she had picked up all of the nuances of the “modern” world. He knew that every time a stylist did her hair or makeup, Nikita watched the woman like a hawk, learning the techniques.
Nikita turned and smiled at him.
“You look very handsome in that tuxedo, Michael,” she said, standing.
Michael nodded, taking in her gown and jewelry. “You are quite beautiful, Nikita,” he replied. “Are you ready? Your father is waiting for us.”
“Yes,” she replied, grabbing a small jeweled purse. “Just let me get my shoes,” she said, heading for the closet.
Michael chuckled. As much as he had seen her change since he had brought her to New York, he noticed that she could never seem to keep her shoes on for long.
“I’m ready,” she said, taking his arm. Her stiletto pumps sent her soaring to Michael’s height at least.
Michael opened the door for her and followed her into the hall. In the foyer, Nick and Walter waited.
When Nikita approached, Walter gave an appreciative whistle.
“Wow, sugar. You are going to turn some heads tonight,” he commented.
Nikita took in his jeans and leather jacket. “You aren’t going?” she asked, disappointed.
“Nah. I don’t want to get all gussied up for some fancy schmancy party,” he told her. “The only thing that is good at those things is the booze, and I can raid your father’s supply from the comfort of my own room.”
Nikita laughed and kissed him on the cheek.
“Have fun,” Walter told the departing trio as he shut the door behind them. As he headed for his room, he thought to himself that Nikita’s days of relative anonymity would soon be over.
***
Nikita took the flute of champagne that her father handed her and glanced at Michael. He watched the people in the room. When they had arrived, Nikita had created quite a stir with the media. Flashbulbs lit up the red carpet like a ball field, and the B list celebrity entering the gala before them was miffed when all of her attention was turned on Nikita.
Michael was impressed at how well Nikita had dealt with all of the craziness of the red carpet. He stayed by her side, with her father flanking her on the other side, in case some paparazzi got too zealous in his picture taking, but Nikita beamed her dazzling smile all the way up to the entrance.
Now, he was concerned with the people within the gala. Her father had spoken to Michael before they had left, telling him that security was tight at functions such as these, so once they were inside, Michael would have little to do other than stay nearby. However, Michael continued to scan the room.
His eyes narrowed as people began to come over to visit with Nikita. The steady stream of New York “notables” all wanted to make contact with the heiress. Michael could see that Nikita would soon gain substantial notoriety.
Several of the men asked her to dance, and though it killed him to watch, Michael stared at her the entire time she was on the dance floor.
Nikita began to truly enjoy herself. All of the people she talked with were quite polite, and the handsome men who asked her to dance were wonderful dancers, more than making up for her rudimentary dancing skills.
She laughed at the funny comments, and enjoyed swirling on the dance floor. At one point, Nikita knew this was exactly what her mother had been describing in the stories she had told Nikita as a young girl. Nikita could hardly believe she was living it.
Soon she was back at her father’s side, her eyes bright from the excitement and glamour of the evening.
“Nikita, you look positively radiant,” Jurgen said, coming over to join them. He lifted her hand and kissed it.
Michael narrowed his eyes. Nikita smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Richardson,” Nikita answered, extracting her hand delicately from his.
“Please, you must call me Jurgen,” he told her, turning to shake her father’s hand. “How are you all enjoying the party?”
“It’s lovely,” Nikita answered. “Very exciting.”
Nick Wirth excused himself to network, and Jurgen continued his conversation with Nikita.
“How are you enjoying New York?” he asked, stepping closer.
“It is very interesting, but scary sometimes,” Nikita answered honestly.
Jurgen nodded thoughtfully. “I heard you made quite an entrance tonight,” he told her. “I think you will be seeing a lot more flashbulbs in your future.”
Nikita turned to look into his eyes. “What do you mean?” she asked, taking a small sip of her champagne.
“You’ve become a celebrity,” he told her. “People will take your picture to put in magazines. Tonight, television shows will comment on what you wore to the gala and how your hair was done. Nothing you do from now on will be private unless you take great care, Nikita. The world will want to know everything about you from what you eat for breakfast to whom you are seeing,” he answered.
Nikita glanced back at Michael, unnerved by his answer. Jurgen checked his watch.
“Would you care to dance, Nikita?” he asked her, holding out his hand.
Nikita turned around to look at Michael again, and, although it sliced into his heart to do it, he nodded. She put her hand into Jurgen’s and he led her onto the floor.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” she warned as he found an empty place on the dance floor and pulled her into his arms.
“Nonsense, you’ll do fine,” he assured her.
Jurgen was a good partner, and soon Nikita found her rhythm and began to enjoy the dance. They chatted some more as they danced, but the floor began to become crowded. As soon as the song ended, Jurgen put a hand to the small of her back and escorted her from the floor – away from where Michael was waiting.
Nikita glanced back the other way, but Jurgen continued to lead her away.
“I thought maybe you would like some air on the balcony,” he suggested, opening the door for her.
Nikita admitted that she was warm, and it could hardly hurt to get a breath of fresh air with her father’s right hand man with her.
She nodded and stepped through the door onto a wide balcony. The air was crisp and chilly and Nikita wrapped her arms about herself.
“Here,” Jurgen said, shrugging out of his coat and slipping it over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, turning to him.
She walked closer to the railing and stared out at the city lights. As she turned back around, she was blinded by a flashbulb going off in her face.
She blinked her eyes and shook her head slightly, seeing white circles in her vision.
“What…?!” she exclaimed, confused.
The light flashed again and again, pinning Nikita to the railing. She put up her hand to shield her eyes from the blinding flashes.
“You son of a bitch!” she heard Jurgen yell, and then the sounds of a struggle.
“Hey, gimme that back,” an unfamiliar voice shouted back. “She’s on public property.”
Nikita blinked her eyes, trying to refocus on the dimly lit balcony. She saw Jurgen fighting with a man, holding a camera out of his reach.
Nikita gasped when Jurgen pulled an arm back and punched the stranger in the face. The man toppled to the ground and held his jaw with his hand.
Jurgen opened the camera and pulled out the film, exposing the roll. Then he handed it back to the man on the ground.
“Get out of here before I notify security,” Jurgen spat.
Jurgen turned and put an arm around Nikita’s shoulders, shepherding her back into the safety of the ballroom.
As they slowly made their way across the crowded room, Nikita stopped for a moment.
“I wanted to thank you for … what you did out there,” she said, a shaky smile on her face.
“Your father would expect nothing less from me,” he answered. “However, that is not the only reason I did it.” He turned her to look directly at him. “I know it sounds silly, Nikita, but I feel a certain… connection with you.”
Nikita didn’t respond, but Jurgen continued. “Do you think that we could find a way to spend some more time together? Would you allow me to take you to dinner?” he asked.
Nikita blinked. Her heart was still pounding from the fiasco on the balcony, but she had to admit that not all of the adrenaline coursing through her veins was from fear. The excitement of having a handsome man interested in her was spinning a thrill in the pit of her stomach.
She smiled. “I think that would be very nice,” she told him, slipping his jacket off her shoulders and handing it back to him.
Jurgen smiled too. “Wonderful! When would be a good time?” he asked.
Nikita shrugged and giggled prettily. “I don’t have anything to do ANY time, so I guess it could be whenever you want.”
Jurgen placed his hand at the small of her back and started walking again toward where her father and Michael waited. “Even better. How about tomorrow night then?” he asked.
Nikita smiled and nodded her head.
“Fantastic,” Jurgen exclaimed as they reached the worried pair of Nick and Michael.
“Where were you?” Nick asked worriedly.
“We went out on the balcony for some air,” Nikita said.
“There was a bit of nastiness with a paparazzi scumbag, but I took care of it,” Jurgen explained.
Jurgen could feel Michael’s stare boring into him, but he would not turn and look at the man. He knew that if he were going to win Nikita’s affection, he would have to circumvent Michael.
“My God! Are you alright?” Nick asked, pulling Nikita closer to him.
“Yes, Father, I’m fine. Jurgen was a fine protector,” Nikita said with a smile.
Jurgen shook his head. “I don’t know about protector, but I ruined the man’s film,” he said downplaying his role. “I’m just lucky that Nikita has agreed to join me for dinner tomorrow night. That is… if that’s ok with you?” he said, addressing Nick.
“Of course, Jurgen. But don’t you think that after the paparazzi incident, she should stay inside for a while?”
Jurgen shrugged. “I’m afraid, Nick, that Nikita will be a celebrity after tonight. She can’t hide inside forever.”
Nick looked thoughtful. “True. … still…” he said, unsure.
“Father, perhaps Michael can come along? I’m sure I would be safe if Michael is there,” Nikita suggested.
Both Michael’s and Jurgen’s hearts sank – for different reasons.
“Good idea. I guess it’s settled then,” Nick said, closing the matter.
Jurgen forced a smile. “Wonderful. Shall I pick you up around seven, then?”
Nikita nodded with a smile.
“I look forward to it,” Jurgen told her, and then excused himself.
Michael’s mind was racing as he watched Jurgen walk away. He kept his thoughts to himself as Nikita and her father decided to return home. He was quiet in the limousine on the ride back to the apartment as Nikita recounted her “rescue” by Jurgen on the balcony.
He saw Nikita to her room and then retired to his suite to think.
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