Chapter 12

When Ricardo was completely flaccid, Annie stood up. She didn’t bother trying to cover her nudity—she was far beyond modesty now. In fact, she didn’t even care when drips of semen began pattering on the throw rug.

“I’m glad we did that,” she said with a smile. “You’re all man, Ricardo.”

He opened his eyes, and for once struggled for words. “Jesus, Annie ... you’re so...”

“You’d better get a shower before Evie comes back; and I should go before Tom wonders what I’ve been up to. But after you’ve showered ... then you’ll take care of that other thing we talked about, right?”

“Don’t worry babe,” he said hoarsely, rising to his feet. “Consider it fixed. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She leaned in to hug him—moving a little awkwardly to minimize the contact between their naked bodies—and grazed his cheek with her lips. “I knew I could count on you.” Then she smacked his ass, “Now go get cleaned up!”

He shuffled obediently off to the bathroom, and Annie pulled her dress back on. Glancing in the full-length mirror as she headed out the door, she saw that her locks were a tangled mess, her makeup ruined, and glistening tracks were starting to crust on her legs. Fuck, what a day...

In the corridor she had a scare. Hearing the ding of the elevator and feeling a premonition, Annie ducked into the stairwell. Just in time too. Peeking through the sidelight, she saw that it was indeed Evelyn floating majestically down the hall toward her suite. If they’d come face-to-face ... well, it didn’t bear thinking of.

The near-miss made Annie look ahead to her homecoming, and she decided she’d better make herself more presentable. Stopping at a public restroom, she paid off the attendant’s disapproving glare with a 10-dollar bill. After that, she did what she could to mop up Ricardo’s seed between her legs, clean the mascara smears off her face, and tease her hair back into some kind of shape.

Still, she was worried. It didn’t seem possible that she’d erased every sign of what had happened. Wouldn’t her husband know instantly that she’d just been fucked? Rambling reluctantly back toward Skadarliya, gears in her head spinning madly, Annie became more and more convinced that this was the end of the road for her marriage...

When she got home, however, she found Tom slumped at the kitchen table, far too preoccupied with gloom and self-loathing to notice anything else. Moving over behind him, trying to stay out of his eyeline as much as possible, she began to knead the knots in his shoulders with what she hoped was an arms-length show of empathy.

“What did he say?” Tom asked at last, voice hollow.

Annie should have gotten her story straight before coming in the door, but she’d been too tired and scattered. Now, put on the spot, she strove to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. The burdens of the day lay heavy on her—yet, Ricardo’s assurances had given her genuine hope too. Holding on tightly to that positive, she tried to make her reply bright. “Well, I really think he’s going to help us. I’m not sure how, but he said he’d take care of things.”

Tom’s body language conveyed that this was too good to be true. “Yeah, but what can he do? Even if the authorities target Miloz, won’t we go down with him?”

She felt exasperated. “I don’t know Tom. Like I said, he didn’t tell me his plans, he just said we’ll be ok. I think he’s going to turn the blackmail against Miloz somehow.”

Tom remained motionless a moment longer. Then she saw the tension ebb from his frame, as he chose to accept her assurances. Turning in his chair, he peered up at her with frank relief on his face. “Jeez hon, you’re a miracle worker. How’d you get him to change his mind?”

She took a step backward and laughed nervously. “How does a woman ever win over a man—I had to turn on the waterworks. In fact, my makeup is absolutely ruined. Look, why don’t I go change and fix myself up, and then we’ll head to that café on the corner to celebrate. We can order a bottle of that plum brandy the Serbs are so fond of.”

The next morning, Annie sat at the table, staring at a wide crack in the plaster and nursing a wicked headache.

When Zora had bustled into the apartment earlier, she’d diagnosed Annie’s condition at once. It was hardly unknown in Belgrade. Whipping up a vile concoction of egg-yolk and pickle brine, she’d watched like a hawk, arms folded, until her employer gagged it down. Then, judging Annie to be fully cured, she’d turned her attention to the kitchen, banging the pots and pans around without an ounce of mercy.

Last night had been ... awkward. Following their second bottle of that ungodly strong liqueur, she and Tom had stumbled home and tumbled into bed. After the day she’d endured, she felt raw and squalid and exhausted; all she wanted to do was sleep. But, Tom had made a clumsy effort to kindle something up—and he’d seemed so needy, and she’d felt so guilty, that she hadn’t had the heart to turn him away. She’d never even had a chance to shower since being with Ricky; but luckily Tom had been too far gone to catch anything amiss.

Now, surveying the carnage of the previous day, it felt as if her whole world had been turned inside-out, and shaken vigorously. She wondered what that world would look like when everything settled. And, what changes might have taken place within her as well. The corner of Annie’s mouth turned up in rueful irony, as it occurred to her that only yesterday, she’d been aghast at the idea of Miloz taking three women in three days. The feat hardly seemed impressive, now that she herself had been fucked by three different men in just over 12 hours.

The phone rang and Annie heard Tom talking for a bit. Well, listening mostly. At one point he gave a whistle, as if in surprise or disbelief. When he finally hung up, he beckoned her into the bedroom and shut the door. Zora hardly seemed to understand any English; yet neither of them had ever fully shaken the suspicion that she was only pulling a fast one.

“That was Ricardo,” Tom said, full of news. “They fished Miloz out of the Danube this morning—dead as a doornail. Apparently, word got back to the minister at Finance that someone was mucking around with his business arrangements. And I guess the guy’s got more muscle and less patience than our two-timing prick must have bargained for.”

So—that was that, Annie thought. She tried to summon some emotions, but she was too exhausted and confused to judge what the appropriate feelings would be.

“Do you think Ricardo planned it that way?” she asked at last.

Tom looked pensive. “The guy’s certainly not a killer. But could he have steered things in that direction? It’s possible. Ricardo isn’t exactly plugged in to what’s going on here, but with his clout and money he can still exert influence ... On the other hand, it’s also possible he was blundering around blindly, and we just got lucky.”

On reflection, Annie decided it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that she had induced Ricardo to act, and that action had saved them. The rest was minutiae. “Is that all he had to say?”

“Oh yeah—he also invited us on a dinner cruise tonight. Evelyn will be there.”

Annie frowned. She could handle the men, but there was no way she wanted to socialize with Evie. Not after she’d betrayed her friend’s trust so profoundly. “Why don’t you go by yourself? I made such a fuss with Ricardo yesterday, you know? It’d be awkward.”