Chapter 4

Destiny was kind. Arseniy was not on duty at Sam’s. More likely he was enjoying his day off – perhaps reading, listening to music or exercising at a gym somewhere in Riga.  Simone refused to think that her young Adonis could possibly be with a woman. The fact that Arseniy hardly knew Simone existed didn’t deter her from believing that one day soon they’d be an item.

Having found out when his shift ended, one day Simone had followed him out of the restaurant. He had been polite and the two of them walked along Dzirnavu Street before Arseniy said bye and hopped on a bus. A friend of Simone’s had seen the pair and, observing her cloying body language, assumed they were lovers. She never corrected that notion.

First thing tomorrow she’d fix herself up, reinvent herself — warm light Swedish blonde highlights, expertly styled hair (short and sassy), manicure and a pedi. She had good skin, good bones and decent teeth — the type of healthy natural beauty that many Latvian women enjoyed. Ageless. Well, not exactly completely ageless, but at fifty-four she could, with her lithe voluptuous body, still project a certain sex appeal.

Sam’s was sensationally popular. Even though the restaurant was full of jovial people, it didn’t feel crowded. And it was not too loud. Perfect for what Egmonds had to say to Simone. They would be discreet but didn’t have to whisper. Besides, the non smoking policy was largely ignored. Egmonds liked that.

Simone scanned the room quickly, impressed by the diversity of the nicely dressed, but not stuffy, clientele. She heard English and  Latvian being spoken but Russian hadn’t yet reached her ears. Which was a good thing. It added class to the place. She knew why her friend preferred Sam’s to Osiris—and not just for the easy smoking policy. This place was fun and lively. Osiris was tiny and a tad pretentious.

On their way over Egmond had mentioned that there was a secret doorman who had a knack for discouraging the vatniks – as he liked to call Russians.

After an ice cold vodka cocktail with little amuse gueles on the side, she cheerfully wished Egg bon appetite before digging into her Chicken Paprikash with Spaetzle. (She liked to call her friend Egg, sometimes even Eggy, when she was in a good mood.) This feast had set her spirits soaring.

Egg had ordered a merlot. She wondered, How can he afford it? But had Egg not hinted that there would be serious money to be made? Once their plan was put in motion, that is.

Egg was not given to sentimental attachments. Divorced years ago, father of an unknown number of children, he was giving romance a long holiday.

* * *

After ordering coffee and glancing quickly at neighboring tables he turned his attention to Simone.

“You’re not having anything more to drink. Now, pay careful attention.”

Simone shook her head as if to clear it. God only knew she had been looking forward to cognac or brandy. But c’est la vie. She downed the little bit of wine left in her glass, moved a tad closer and focused.

“I’ve told you how all this started, right?”

Simone murmured an uh-huh and nodded her head.

“On Facebook,” she said with a wry little smile. “At first I couldn’t believe it. I thought this Facebook was just for kids. My aunt Velga likes Draugos and she—”

“Never mind your aunt!” Egg held up his hand cutting her off. “Now, listen carefully.”

A waiter was approaching their table with the coffee. Good strong hot coffee. Just the thing to enjoy with a smoke. Simone was tempted to bum a fag, but resisted.

Before taking a sip Egg lit up another cigarette and hunched over. With his dark leather jacket and intense eyes he looked like a pal of Tony Soprano about to put out a contract on somebody.

He again looked around to make sure no one was listening. His his voice went down a notch, almost to a whisper.

“We’re not doing anything wrong. No one is going to get hurt. It’s just a golden opportunity to make some cash. She has plenty while we … well, you know how it is.”

Simone knew. She scrunched her face up just thinking of the hardships—sharing a tiny flat with her aunt Velga who gave her bits of money for looking after the old lady. Aunt Velga was in her eighties but still spry enough to clamber down all those stairs and go sit in a nearby park. Even in winter she did this. But she left all the household chores to her niece.

As she sipped on her coffee Simone felt a chill– no one is going to get hurt sounded ominous.

“So, you’re going to move on this lady you met on Facebook. What if she has a bodyguard?”

“You’re crazy,” Egg snapped.

He glowered at her. She could be so stupid. “You’re reading too many of those crumby detective novels. Watching too much TV. No one travels with a bodyguard.”

Simone glowered back. “But you said she was rich. What does her husband do? Does she even have a husband?”

Egg rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about her husband. I know she’s travelling alone.”

“Arriving when?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!”

Her face crumpled. Tomorrow was Simone’s make-over day. Still, maybe she could squeeze in the hair salon early in the morning.

“Yes, you heard me. Tomorrow. Buy some nice flowers. We’re meeting her flight at seven in the evening. I rented a car.”

Simone released a little sigh of relief. Seven! This would give her plenty of time for her hair. Perhaps even  a new outfit. And flowers of course.