The Love Of Money - Episode 197
30-07-25 (11:33)
Hi I said, learning back in my chair.
"A couple things-people are starting to arrive, and I
thought you might want to know that Natashya is
stirring. She got some food and is eating in the media
room."
"Ah," I said, standing up. I wanted to give her privacy
when she was in her room, but if she was out and
about, maybe she wouldn't mind me trying to talk to
her. "Where's Emily.?"
"Taking a shower," Erin said.
"Thanks, Erin." I thought about talking to her about her
decision to bring Tara in for an interview, but wasn't
sure how long my window of opportunity with
Natashya would be, so I decided it could wait until
later.
"No problem, boss," she said with a wink and a smile,
then disappeared.
I headed to the media room, which was essentially a
scaled-down luxury theater, and sure enough, when I
opened the door and peered inside, I could vaguely
make out the distinct shape of Natashya Illuminated by
the silver screen. Some old black and white movie was
playing, and someone was ranting. "...she's not like an
automobile or an icebox or a piece of furniture or
something you buy on time, and when you can't give
up the payments, they take it away from you!"
I slipped in and made my way over to where' she was
sitting, clearing my throat on the way to give her fair
warning. It worked, and Natashya looked over her
shoulder at me as she chewed on a mouthful of
something that looked a little like chicken fried rice. She
stared at me as I approached, and I stopped a few feet
away. Neither of us said anything for a pregnant
moment as the characters on the screen continued
talking. Natashya just continued to slowly chew as she
stared at me.
"I can leave you alone if you want," I said.
She stared back at me for a long moment, and just
when I was going to back away and leave, she sat her
plate of food on the seat on the other side and patted
the seat next to her. I sat beside her, and we both gave
each other a long look before returning to the movie.
I never really understood the appeal of old movies.
They all spoke in that strange, trans-Atlantic accent that
made everything sound like a radio announcement. It
bothered me. Plus, it was always the same four men in
every movie. It was a product of its time, and I didn't
really get it, but I sat there and watched some of it
with Natashya, unsure of how to start opening up
about what happened to us in Vegas.
"How are you doing?" I finally asked.
She side-eyed me, and it felt like she thought my
question was just as lame as I did. "I'm fine."
I gave her a doubtful look, and she sighed. "Emily said
she told you everything
"She told me enough," I said. "God, Natashya. I'm so
sorry. I feel like this is all my fault."
She shook her head and gave me a sad smile. "This is
why I didn't want to talk to you yet."
That took me by surprise. "Because I'm trying to take
responsibility for getting you kidnapped?"
"Yes," she said. "Marcus, you did nothing wrong. Evil
men came for you. They took you and beat you, I was
with you because I chose to be, and they took me as
well."
"If I hadn't"
"If my uncle Alex hadn't chased his friend across the
street when he was little, he wouldn't have been struck
by a drunk driver," Natashya said. "That does not make
it his friend's fault."
That shut me up. It was a hard analogy to argue with.
"Can we please move past the part where' you beat
yourself up over this?"
Suddenly, I felt guilty for a different reason. I'd come in
here and made Natashya's situation about me. Whether
I realized it or not, my priority had been confessing my
sins to her in the hope of receiving absolution. I wanted
her to take away my guilt, but instead, she pointed out
the real problem. I wasn't guilty of putting Natashya in
harm's way. I was guilty of being selfish.
"Fuck. You're right. I'm sorry," said, then continued
before she could respond. "Look, a huge part of why I
came in here was to see how you were, though. I've
been worried about you... and don't give me some trite
answer about being okay because I know you're not
She offered me a sad smile
"I don't need you to open up. That's what my sister is
for. Emily told me you've been through a lot and that
you're super strong, and that's really admirable. I just
want you to know that it's okay that you're not okay,
and if you need anything at all, I'm here for you. Just
say the word."
"Thank you," she said.
"Of course," I said, "I care about you. A lot."
"I care about you too," she said, "and I'm sorry I've
been avoiding you."
I waved her off, "Don't worry about that. I get it."
"No," she said. "I mean it. You invited me on the trip,
then paid The Starlight so that I could keep my job.
You've been letting me stay here. You've done so much
for me when all I am is a dancer you fucked in a strip
club."
"Hey." It was my turn to cut her off. "You're more than
that."
She leveled a look at me. "I told you would not be a
good girlfriend for you."
"That's not what meant," said. "At the very least, you're
my friend. You're not just some girl met and fucked."
She stared back at me with an unreadable expression,
but her eyes shined brightly in the light of the movie,
and despite the bruises on her face and the split on her
bottom lip, she was still striking.
"You look as bad as me," she finally said.
"Yeah, well, you look incredible."
Something in her expression changed slightly. It looked
like her eyes got a little brighter, and I got the distinct
impression that she was fighting tears.
"The last time a man touched me," she said, her voice
thick with emotion, "was horrible. I would like a kiss...
to remind me that it Isn't always like that?"
"If that's what you want," I said back.
I placed a hand on her cheek, carefully testing the
waters to make sure she was actually okay with being
touched so soon after what had just happened. I
caressed the mottled browns and blues that stained her
creamy skin and paid careful attention to her reaction.
She simply stared back at me and waited.
I covered her lips with mine for a sweet, closed-mouth
kiss. It was different than usual; Natashya's lips had
always been moist, pillow- soft, and ready to wrestle or
caress as needed. This kiss was closed-mouth and
sweet, but her lips were coarse and dry from the
damage she'd received, and the time spent in recovery
tasted something faintly medicinal as I moved my lips
gently over hers. She reciprocated, but her tongue
stayed in her mouth as she applied a little pressure of
her own.
The movie droned on as we kissed. "..please Judge, I'll
sell anything I've got until get going again. And she'll
never go hungry! She'll never be without clothes... not
so long as I've got two good hands, so help me!" Then
it faded to black.
At that moment, the door opened, and light spilled into
the darkened theater.
Natashya and I pulled apart and saw Emily standing in
the doorway in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. Her
freshly washed hair hung around her face in damp
clumps.
"Oh!" she said, stopping short. "I'm sorry... I didn't
mean..."
"No," I said, suddenly feeling very awkward. For a
moment, as we kissed, I'd forgotten about the intimacy
Natashya and Emily had shared in Vegas. Now that she
caught us kissing, memories of seeing my sister's nude
form straddling the dancer resurfaced, and I found
myself feeling very self-conscious about that fact. "It's
fine. We were just..." Just what? Talking?
"I should've knocked."
"Don't be ridiculous, Emily," Natashya said amusedly.
"You live here now, yes?"
"I... Yeah?"
"Then you shouldn't have to knock. Besides, we were
just kissing. wanted Marcus to remind me that I don't
hate men now.
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