| Subject: Chapter 7 |
Author:
Juli
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Date Posted: Tuesday, August 24, 09:24:51pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Angelita" on Friday, May 21, 10:47:26pm
Chapter 7
The next morning, Nikita awoke early. As her legs and arms moved against the satiny smooth sheets, she stretched lazily and smiled. She remembered where she was, relishing the downy softness of the mattress beneath her. She rolled onto her stomach and inhaled the subtle perfume of the pillowcase. It awed her to think that all of this would have been her life, if her mother had not been lost when the boat was attacked.
She rose from her bed, and smoothed down the silk nightgown that she now wore. She went into the bathroom and smiled at the beautiful sky blue gown that draped over her figure. It had taken her some time to get used to seeing herself so clearly in the mirror. The village men had scavenged some of the mirrors from the boat, but they had all been small and had broken over the years. Nikita had contented herself to seeing her reflection in the water and in the tiny compact that her mother had kept.
After relieving herself, Nikita wandered out of her room and flung open the curtains in the sitting room. She stared out of the window at the city below. She remembered that Michael was taking her to purchase clothing later that day, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation.
“Good morning.”
Nikita spun around at the sound of Michael’s voice. She smiled. He was standing in the doorway of his room in a pair of black drawstring pants. His hand rubbed across the stubble on his chin as he yawned.
“Hello, Michael. Did I wake you?” she asked.
Michael shook his head. “Hungry?”
“Oh yes please,” Nikita said as her stomach punctuated her comment with a rumble. “Will they bring it up here on a cart again?” she asked.
“If you like,” he answered her with an indulgent smile. “Or we can go out to eat.”
“Oh! What is the place for eating called, Michael?” she asked, suddenly aware of her options.
“Restaurant,” he prompted. She repeated and then put a finger to her lips as she decided.
“No, let’s eat here today. We can go to the restaurant tomorrow,” she told him.
“As you wish,” he said with a laugh, and picked up the phone.
He knew that Nick Wirth would want every luxury for his daughter, so Michael again ordered a variety of breakfast foods for her to try. He didn’t want to see the bill at the end of the two weeks.
Nikita flounced down on the sofa and picked up the TV remote once again. Michael made a mental note to buy her some books during their outing. He didn’t want to turn her into a couch potato. He tried not to notice how alluring and feminine she looked in the silk nightgown he had bought for her in La Paz. He supposed he should have bought something long sleeved and flannel – if only for his sanity.
As Nikita watched TV, Michael returned to his room to shower and shave. As he let the hot water pour over him, he realized that he had to disconnect from Nikita. Once he returned her to her father, he would no longer be part of her life. He had to keep his emotions out of the deal. He realized with start that he had already grown fond of her in a sisterly manner, but the frozen emotions within him were becoming dangerously thawed. Logically he admitted that she was an extremely attractive woman. He knew that in her innocence she could easily become infatuated with him. It would be a heady experience to have her devotion and loyalty focused upon him.
Michael swore and turned the water to cold, shivering under the spray as he tried vainly to remember why he had left Paris in the first place. Shivering, he stepped out of the shower; his decision made.
He had just finished dressing when room service knocked on the door. He shook his head as he noticed that Nikita hadn’t moved from her place on the couch.
The mouthwatering smells coming from the covered plates on two room service carts, caught her attention. She clicked off the TV and hurried over, drawing appreciative glances from the two bellboys. The jealousy that unexpectedly flared within Michael, steeled his resolve to retreat from her.
He tipped the bellmen and closed the door behind them. Nikita was already chewing when he returned to the table.
“Mmmmm, this is delicious,” she said, her mouth full of a bite of pancake. She held up a bite for him on her fork.
Michael noted the intimate gesture, and instead, pulled the piece of pancake off with his fingers.
He nodded his agreement of the quality of the food.
He pulled out a chair and poured himself some coffee. Leaning back, Michael studied Nikita as she wolfed down her food. His thoughts were dark. Michael realized that if he could fall so easily for her, that others would too. Others with no care for her innocence or her feelings or her naiveté.
“This afternoon, I want to teach you something,” he told her taking a sip of his coffee.
Nikita’s eyes brightened with her natural curiosity. “What?”
He shrugged, “Just some self defense moves… to protect yourself,” he told her.
“Why would I need to know that?” she asked, setting down her fork.
“Just in case,” he replied vaguely. Michael didn’t want to worry her. He just wanted to make sure that she could take care of herself if something happened once he was gone.
Nikita looked into his eyes for a long time and then nodded. She returned to her meal, attacking her eggs and bacon and then spearing a piece of cantaloupe.
After breakfast, Nikita showered and dressed, and then Michael took her to the exclusive Jockey Plaza shopping center. They perused the expensive designer shops purchasing everything from lingerie, to shoes, to clothing, to outerwear. They ate lunch at Delicass, where Nikita again savored every bite.
Michael enjoyed watching her as they shopped. She drank in every sight, sound, smell, and taste. At the movie theater, she begged him to take her to a movie, and of course, he relented. During the film, Michael watched her fascination with the actors on the screen. It was like introducing a baby to the modern world. Other than her mother’s accounts, Nikita knew next to nothing about the city.
After the movie, they shopped some more. At each shop, they arranged for their purchases to be delivered to the hotel, and helpful, knowledgeable salespeople assisted them at every turn. The clerks knew money when they saw it.
Near the end of the day, Michael surprised Nikita with a visit to the salon. He waited patiently in the waiting area as Nikita was whisked away by a gaggle of excited stylists.
Nikita thought she had died and gone to heaven as the ladies worked on her. First her fingernails and toenails were manicured and painted. Then a facial, followed by a massage. The pampering concluded with a hair cut, style, and makeup. Nikita watched everything that they did – trying to commit it to memory so that she would be able to repeat it later. Her thoughts went back to her fantasies about such things when her mother had told her stories. Nikita wondered again how her mother had given these luxuries up.
Nikita stared at herself in the mirror when her “makeover” was complete, awed by the beautiful woman that stared back at her. She smiled. The ladies oohed and ahhhed over her new look, and the moment was interrupted when the receptionist brought back a hangar draped with plastic.
“Your husband sent this back for you to wear,” the woman told her in Spanish.
“He’s not my husband,” Nikita giggled.
The women chattered amongst themselves as Nikita changed into the dress that Michael had sent back. Nikita could hear snatches of their conversation, and she realized they were talking about Michael’s backside.
She stopped dressing for a moment and considered the subject. Tilting her head to the side, she made a mental note to take a look.
Michael looked up from the magazine he was absently leafing through when Nikita appeared under the arch that led from the back rooms.
He stood, stunned. The magazine slipped to the floor, and the women from the salon gave each other knowing grins.
Nikita turned in a circle and asked, “How do I look?”
“Beautiful,” Michael breathed. He realized belatedly that it may have been a mistake to do this.
Nikita smiled broadly, and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress.
Michael pulled some bills from his wallet and handed them to the receptionist. He held out his arm for Nikita, and she moved out the door in front of him, waving to the stylists through the large front window.
The ladies sighed and waved back.
On the taxi ride back to the hotel, Nikita talked about her salon experience and how much she had enjoyed the shopping.
Michael chuckled. “You’ll certainly enjoy New York, then.”
Over the course of the following two weeks, Michael did his best to educate Nikita in the things she would need to know. They went to the zoo, the movies several times, and more shopping. He took her to parks, to the ocean, and to museums. They visited several bookstores, and Nikita began to read everything she could get her hands on.
He continued her training in self-defense, noting with satisfaction that she had a knack for it. She was already strong and lean, and she enjoyed the stretching and sparring. By the end of their time in Peru, she had progressed to a point where he was teaching her more advanced martial arts moves.
Michael remained steadfast in his determination to remain emotionally distant from Nikita. He became instructor only. He hoped that in her enthusiasm to learn, she didn’t notice his withdrawal.
On the night before they were scheduled to leave, four large Louis Vitton suitcases arrived at the hotel, and two maids knocked on the door to pack Nikita’s, now considerable, wardrobe.
Nikita was busy watching TV when Michael flipped open his cell phone to call Nicholas Wirth. The conversation was brief and fairly one sided. Michael’s side consisted of mainly yes’s and no’s, with a brief explanation of Nikita’s education into the 21st century.
“Very well, sir. Until tomorrow,” he said hanging up the phone.
He took a deep breath and tried to pretend that the deep feeling of loss wasn’t really squeezing his heart. He picked up the wrapped package from his bed and walked to the living room.
Nikita flipped off the TV when he entered the room. Michael had noticed that although she watched TV a lot, she wasn’t really interested. He had finally figured out that she used it as a “modern life” tutor. Many times she would ask him about something after seeing it on TV.
“Was that my father?” she asked, twisting a strand of her hair nervously.
“Yes,” Michael replied.
Nikita looked expectantly at Michael, patiently waiting for more information.
Michael sighed. “His jet will be waiting tomorrow at the airport here in Lima. We will travel to New York and be there by tomorrow night,” he explained.
“Will… he meet us there?” she asked.
“No. A limousine will take us to his home in Manhattan… away from the public,” he told her.
He didn’t want to frighten her, but he knew it wouldn’t take long for the story to leak to the press, and from then on, Nikita would be stalked by the paparazzi.
Nikita noticed the gift. “Is that for me?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
Michael smiled and held it out. “Yes.”
Nikita took the present and tore off the wrapping. She turned it over. “It’s a …what is it again?” she asked, looking at Michael.
“A portable CD player,” Michael answered.
“Right! It’s wonderful! Thank you, Michael,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
“You’re welcome,” Michael answered, restraining the urge to pull her close to him.
Nikita pulled open the package, and Michael helped her to insert the batteries and plug in the headphones.
“I put two of my favorite CD’s in there for you,” he said quietly.
Nikita put the headphones over her ears, and Michael showed her how to work the controls. When the music started, the look of wonder on Nikita’s face was almost Michael’s undoing.
He pulled quickly away from her and muttered something about needing to pack his things. He lay awake for a long time thinking about the following day.
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