| Subject: Chapter 8 |
Author:
Juli
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Date Posted: Tuesday, September 21, 01:34:58pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Angelita" on Friday, May 21, 10:47:26pm
Chapter 8
Nikita pressed her nose against the window of the Wirth Enterprises jet as she watched the luggage being loaded into the hold. She turned and glanced at Michael sitting across the aisle. He too was staring out the window, a look of concentration on his face.
Nikita wished he had sat by her, but they had the entire plane to themselves, and she realized it was silly to sit so close. She admitted to herself that she was afraid to go to New York and meet her father – a man she didn’t know.
She wanted to stay in Peru with Michael and go shopping and see every movie ever made. She adored Rita’s “world” and wanted to learn more and more. But New York, and her father, were an unknown. She was excited and frightened at the same time. She glanced at Michael again. At least he would be with her.
She sighed as the last bag was loaded and the plane shuddered slightly as the cargo compartment doors were fastened.
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom announcing that they would be departing shortly. Nikita looked out the window again as the plane began to taxi toward the runway. As the sleek jet raced toward the end of the runway and then lifted off effortlessly, Nikita touched the window with her fingertips and said goodbye to the only home she had ever known.
During the long flight, she had watched, what Michael had called, DVD’s of several movies. She loved to see the actors telling a story for her. Each time she watched a movie, she would ask Michael for clarification when she didn’t know what something meant. Many times the sarcasm or context of the movies would elude her, but Michael did his best to explain it.
After a long day of traveling, Nikita was anxious to arrive. Michael had brought her a change of clothing so that she could be fresh when they arrived. He also told her that it was autumn in New York and much cooler than it had been in the Amazon.
Her heart skipped a beat as the wheels screeched against the tarmac. She sat nervously in her seat, fidgeting with the hem of her Gucci suit. She glanced out the window at the tall, brightly lit Manhattan skyline and gasped.
The jet taxied into Wirth’s private hangar where a sleek, black limousine was waiting for them. The door opened and Michael stood, holding out his hand for Nikita.
She smiled nervously up at him and took his hand. As they walked down the steps and to the waiting car, Nikita did not let go of Michael’s hand. The drive to Wirth’s apartment was fairly short due to the late hour, but Nikita stared at the hustle and bustle of the city during every second.
“We’re almost there,” Michael said quietly.
Nikita turned. “Michael?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“Will you stay with me?” she asked softly.
“Of course,” he answered. “I’ll be there when you meet your father.”
“No. I mean, will you stay with me …” she shrugged. “Longer.”
Michael insides twisted. “How long?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
Nikita’s eyes implored him. “I don’t know,” she answered.
Michael didn’t know how to answer. It was not his decision. “Let’s just see what happens, ok?”
Nikita looked frightened and unsure. “Please Michael?”
Michael sighed, certain that he was making a mistake. “I’ll stay until you are ready,” he told her.
Nikita’s smile lit her face as she nodded.
The limousine slowed and pulled into the parking garage. It coasted to a stop in front of a bank of elevators. Michael was glad to see that there were no members of press present either outside or inside the garage. The secret was still safe – for now.
The driver opened the door and stepped back to allow Michael to step out. He stood aside as Michael held out a hand to assist Nikita from the car. They held hands as Michael pushed the button on the elevator. The silence was deafening as the elevator rose quickly to the penthouse. As the doors slid open, Michael turned and touched Nikita’s cheek.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, and stepped from the elevator, drawing her out with him.
They walked several steps to the end of the lavishly decorated hall, and Michael pushed the buzzer.
Nikita’s heart was racing as they waited. She clutched Michael’s hand like it was a lifeline. The door opened and Nikita looked up.
“Tell Mr. Wirth that Mr. Samuelle and … Nikita are here,” Michael told the butler.
“Please come in. You are expected,” the man answered, showing them into a beautiful, marbled foyer.
“One moment, please,” the butler said, turning to fetch his master.
The moment stretched as Nikita waited nervously. She whirled around when she heard footsteps on the marble floor. Her eyes focused on the man her mother loved, the man she had never known, the man who was her father.
***
Nick was stunned when she turned. His daughter was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Her long blonde hair was all Rita, but he could, see as he studied her face, that she was not a carbon copy of his late wife. Nikita’s mouth and chin favored him. It left no doubt that she was his child.
He stopped several feet away and just stared. His daughter stared back. She looked frightened to see him. It worried him.
Michael saw the hesitation on the part of his “employer.” “Nicholas Wirth, may I present to you, your daughter, Nikita.”
The introduction seemed to jolt Nick from his reticence. He put out his arms and smiled. “Nikita,” he said, his eyes filling with tears of joy.
Nikita too, smiled, and rushed forward into his arms. Their embrace brought a smile of contentment to Michael’s lips. This was where Nikita belonged.
Michael stepped back as the two held each other, each lost in memories of the woman that connected them. He watched as Nick pulled back and looked into his daughter’s eyes.
“Come, we have much to talk about,” he told her, taking her hand and placing it on her arm.
Nikita smiled and turned to beckon Michael forward. It reminded Nick that Michael was still there.
“Ah, Michael. Let’s discuss business tomorrow, shall we? Can I have someone book you a room at The Plaza?” Nick asked.
Michael knew when he was being dismissed. “Of course,” he answered with a slight nod.
“Oh, please, can’t Michael stay here?” Nikita pleaded. “I’ll feel much more comfortable if he is near. Please… Father?”
She had stumbled over the word, but it had had the desired effect and had melted Nick immediately.
“Of course, Nikita. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Michael is welcome to stay in one of the guest rooms. Please, Michael, join us for a late dinner,” Nick asked.
Michael was about to decline, stating that the two should have time alone, but then he saw Nikita’s pleading eyes. He could see her fear and decided to stay until she was comfortable.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the invitation.
The three made small talk as they sat around the dining table waiting for the food. Nick asked Nikita to tell him about Rita and their life in the jungle.
“I don’t understand why your mother didn’t return to a city and try to find me,” he said at one point in the story.
Michael broke in with the explanation. “It is something that we wondered too. Only you can shed light on it,” he said.
“Me? How can I shed any light?” Nick asked, confused.
“When Rita had recovered, the men of the village took her back to the yacht. Nikita’s adopted father, Tunapa, said that they were looking for a tall man because all of the crew of the yacht were short. They found your monogrammed jacket on a tall body. Rita assumed that it was you and gave up on the outside world,” Michael explained.
Nick’s brow was furrowed as he remembered back to that day. He looked up as he realized what had happened.
“The captain of the ship was a tall, Brazilian. He was shot right in front of my eyes. I pulled him behind something and put my jacket over him,” Nick whispered, realizing how that one action may have taken his wife from him.
“She loved you very much,” Nikita whispered, tears glimmering on her cheeks. “She talked about you all the time.”
Nick looked up at his daughter, his own heart full. He smiled and asked for the rest of the story.
Nikita continued with her story, and let Michael finish with how he traveled to Bolivia and found her. She laughed as she told her father about all the wonderful things that she discovered once she was back in the “modern” world.
“You’ll have to make sure she doesn’t watch too much TV,” Michael warned with a rare smile.
Nikita laughed.
Their dinner was long finished, and Michael excused himself to allow them some time alone. As he followed a servant to his room, Michael wondered why he felt so empty.
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