Chapter 3

By the next day, the Tom-and-Ricky show was already giving signs of heating up. At the breakfast table that morning, Tom pored over his executive-planner, mapping out a slate of meetings for the two of them to take together.

When Annie learned of it, she couldn’t help pulling a face. “You’re really getting back into business with him?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “Look, nothing’s decided yet. We’re both just, um ... kicking the tires. We’ll team-up, informally at first, take a fresh run at some of these officials, and see what happens. Find out if we can work together—and whether we get any traction that way. If everything checks out, well, then we can decide if it makes sense to partner up for real.”

“Yeah, but ... I mean, Ricardo?”

“Annie, we don’t have to love the guy. I certainly don’t. But I do love the money he’s got behind him. So, I’d better at least try to work with him, right?”

This logic made no sense to Annie; but Tom’s priorities were mystifying to her sometimes. She decided to push back a little: “Maybe I’m being dense, but explain it to me—how will this be any different than what you did before? You working for Ricardo, restructuring obsolete old companies ... I thought we came here to do something good, something new.” Not (she added to herself), to rehash the past, except in a Balkan hellhole!

Tom dismissed her concerns out of hand. “No, it’s totally different. First off, I won’t be working for Ricardo, we’ll be partners. Second, we will be doing good—helping these people adapt to how capitalism works after a lifetime spent under communism. And third, I’ll get a much bigger cut of the action here, than I ever did in the States.”

Annie didn’t say anything. Tom seemed to feel these arguments were unassailable, but he’d lost her at point number one. She wasn’t a business tycoon, but even she was smart enough to know that the person holding the money was the one in charge.

Still, if she went any further down this path, it would only escalate into an argument. She didn’t see any purpose in that—they had enough arguments as it was.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he put in. “We’ll be tied up at the customs bureau all afternoon. Ricardo asked if you can meet Evelyn and get her situated at the hotel.”

Typical.

After breakfast, Annie went for a run, hoping to work some of the frustration out of her system. She’d covered a good bit of the city and was in the home stretch, jogging past the Prince Mihailo statue, when she heard someone call her name. Halting to scan the courtyard, she noticed Miloz slouched against a wall opposite, puffing another cigarette. When he saw he’d caught her eye, he straightened up—his broad, open face breaking into a smile.

With a brisk step, he set out across the square towards her, and Annie took the opportunity to stoop for a moment, hands on bare knees, to catch her breath. Then, as Miloz drew near, she rose again to meet him, watching as he tossed his smoke away.

“Nasty habit, eh? My Serbian bad-boy side asserting itself I guess.” She grinned in reply, to show that she wasn’t put off by it. “So, Annie Parker,” he continued, with a gesture that took in Belgrade as a whole, “what’s a nice girl like you doing in a god-forsaken dump like this?”

A hint of a breeze riffled through the man’s flaxen hair. His cool, easy demeanor made her uncomfortably aware of how flushed and sweaty she was, and how clammily her running attire stuck to her skin. It would have been better if she’d met Miloz at the start of her route, when she was still relatively collected, instead of at the end.

Still, she was glad to see him. And she appreciated his snide dig at the city. Annie always found herself self-censoring around Tom—trying to stay positive, trying to support his dreams. It was refreshing to think she could be frank with Miloz, and she adopted his bantering tone. “Why, Mr. Katić, don’t forget: you chose to live in this purgatory too.”

“Touché!” he laughed. “But maybe a twisted soul like me deserves to be stuck in a twisted city. What’s your excuse?”

“Well, Mr. Katić,” she said with mock seriousness, “my only purpose here is business, all business, and nothing but the business. Is there anything else besides business?”

He laughed again. “You’re funny! But at the risk of making your head explode, I should say there’s some good news on the business front. Your friend Ricardo’s really interested in hiring me for his enterprise. In fact, it’s looking like he and Tom and I will be working together a lot. So, I hope you and I will continue to see each other too. That would certainly brighten up my days—and perhaps bring a little life to yours as well.”

Annie reddened and her smile widened. “That’s wonderful! You’ll be a big help to them. But promise you won’t get too immersed in their wheeling and dealing, ok? That pair tends to get tunnel-vision. So when they start rambling on about expense-ratios and debt-burdens, I’ll expect you to take up the slack of normal conversation.”

Miloz nodded agreeably. “It’s a deal. I hereby designate myself: vice-president in charge of chitchat!” Then, after a brief pause, “Hey, I don’t want to pry, but I must admit I’ve been dying to find out how things went with the police. The forms are intricate, and the legal terminology can be tricky for someone trained in business vocabulary. I hope your husband was able to cross the T’s and dot the I’s ok?”