Preg-Not

10

'Get it together,' Raelynn told herself the second she located the elevator. Her chest was heavy with the urge to cry, but she had no time for that. She needed to figure out how she was going to reach Maksim a second time, because once she stepped out of the building, she'd just be another commoner.

With a lick to her lips, she pulled her hair to a rough, high ponytail and undid the top button of her ridiculous dress. She stood taller to make the outfit look at least a few dollars more than what it was.

She stepped into the elevator. Once she reached the lobby, she scanned the place in search of her next ticket to Maksim. When she saw the original guard that led her in, she rushed through the busy space to intercept him.

"Hey," she said, patting her hair to make it seem like she was fixing it, and re-doing the top button of her dress. "Maksim says he wants to see me again. He told me to talk to a guy called Donnis. You're him, right?"

She suspected the answer was yes. The sunglasses that were tucked into his breast pocket had Donnis L. engraved into the frame. It was a small detail she filed when he first approached her.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, although there was nothing there. If she had to appear like a quick screw who gave Maksim some sloppy head, then she would do it. She'd do anything to get back into Maksim's office and set the record straight.

Donnis nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she waved her hand. "He said he'll need some lube for next time. Don't get the silicone or oil shit. I don't know if you're new here, but he doesn't like that. Give it to me personally for inspection. I'll return in three days."

Donnis raised an eyebrow. "I am not a personal assistant."

"Oh? Well, Maksim told me to speak to you. I guess I'll just have to call him and ask to be directed to his..."

"No need," Donnis interjected, probably afraid of angering the boss. "I will get it."

"Good. He's busy with some calls, so he asked to be left alone. See you soon, Donny!" She made sure to butcher his name like a stereotypical arrogant, empty-headed bootycall.

She sashayed out of there, although she really wanted to cringe. The real Raelynn would never talk about lube with strangers and pretend to wipe cum off her cheek, but she had to act like Maksim's plaything if she wanted to see him again.

On her way out, she felt eyes on her. The presence was so intense that she knew it wasn't Viktor's men. It had to be Maksim.

On her train ride home, she studied the sign that encouraged riders to give their seats to pregnant persons.

Maksim's reaction to her pregnancy was clear. He would blow a gasket, and he would ruin her. She had to explain herself and find common ground with him before the truth came to light. They could return to their homely, forgotten, warm corner in Arizona. Maksim didn't belong behind glass and tailored suits. The mafia wasn't good for either of them. Raelynn knew better than anyone that the madia life only took.

The first thing she did when she arrived at the apartment was take a shower. She scrubbed her cheek raw, pulled her hair loose, and washed her stomach with special care. She could still feel the weight of the Rolex against it, like the humiliation had indented into her memory.

She made plenty of mistakes in life, and earned plenty of titles. Criminal, bad daughter, failure. Nearly everything in the book, but "whore." The grit in Maksim's teeth when he called her the word mauled her. Those lips used to kiss her lovingly, and now they cursed her name.

She spent an hour sulking in the shower, trying to wash away grime that wasn't physically there. The only reason she stepped out of the bathroom was that a concerned Tiffany was calling her.

"So, what happened?"

Raelynn didn't really want to talk about it, but she owned Tiffany answers. She was being kind enough to help her through a rough patch in life, even when she came with extra baggage.

Raelynn explained everything– from waiting outside the building until she caught Maksim's attention to being cornered and showered with diamonds and glares. She had to be careful to avoid any mention of the mafia. The less Tiffany knew about that life, the safer she was.

By the end, Tiffany was vibrating with rage, while Raelynn was exhausted. She checked the sales of her custom mugs and graphic T-shits. There was nothing.

Done with the day, Raelynn rolled over to her side and listened to Tiffany's plans. She agreed that Maksim couldn't find out about her condition until he understood that fear drove her out of their home.

The days flicked through fast. Raelynn didn't hear from her job applications, but she sold two of her mugs. She was nowhere near replaying Tiffany, but it was a start.

When it was time to travel back to the gates of hell, Raelynn dressed in another baggy dress. The trip downtown was nerve-wrecking. Would Donnis remember her? Would he lead her to Maksim?

She went straight to the reception desk in search of him. Donnis turned a corner and showed up. Instead of leading her to the elevator, he gestured to the exit behind her.

"Please make your way out. You are not welcome on these premises. I will escort you."

"But– but Maksim..."

"My employer heard of your demands and told security he has nothing to do with you."

Her shoulders dropped. Although she knew Donnis couldn't do much to help her, she tipped her head back and begged, "please. I really need to speak with him. I don't want any money, just five minutes."

She looked at the nearest security camera that was blended seamlessly into the wall of the prestigious lobby. She stared with pleading eyes, hoping Maksim was watching her through the lens.

Donnis tensed beside her, and she spun around. She came face-to-face with a striped, navy-blue suit jacket. Desperate to find out whose chest she was staring at, she climbed him with her eyes.

"You love causing ruckuses, don't you?"

"I was just about to escort her out, sir," Donnis interjected.

Viktor raised a hand. "No need. I'll take her to my floor."

Viktor turned many corridors and used a special key to unlock an elevator. This one was smaller. She didn't bother to count the dings as the elevator climbed. The carpet was red, and she was trying her best to avoid looking at it.

The office was different than Maksim's. There were no glass doors here, only heavy, dark mahogany. She didn't know what to make of the difference.

"Sit down," Viktor said, pointing to the seat across his desk. He placed his elbows on his desk and leaned in, looking so grand, so similar to Maksim, that she tensed.

"Brooklyn, huh?"

She didn't react. As much as it intimidated her to know that Viktor had eyes on her, she didn't want to please him by displaying fear.

"I tried to talk to Maksim again."

"I saw. And you failed." He sighed. "Stupid girl."

She pursed her lips and fisted her hands to cage her fight.

"Did you really think you would get to him so easily? You Americans are beyond me." He ripped a piece of paper and wrote a phone number. After folding it many times, he tossed it at her.

"Call that number and ask for a job at marketing. I will set everything up from my end. You better do this right, because I will not be around to save you a second time. I am flying out to Russia tomorrow and will not return for months."

"I can't get a corporate job," she hesitated.

"Do you want to reach Maksim, or not?"

"I do, but I won't get hired. I have a record."

"I know. It will not matter. Close the door on your way out. I have more important things to do than listen to your sob story." He looked at her belly. "The only reason I entertain you is because of what you carry. Other than that, you're worthless."

Her nails pieced her flesh when she fisted the paper. Silently, she left the room and closed the door behind her.