More Useful Here
RECOMMENDED TRACK: Pomplamoose – Sweet Dreams / Seven Nation Army
When we woke the next morning, I was surprised to find Misha missing from the bed beside me, though it was still warm. I sat up and spotted him in the kitchen, washing a bowl to have some cereal in.
“Dobroye utro,” I said, then stretched in bed, trying to hold onto some of the peace from the night before. “What’s got you up and moving so early?”
“It’s nine-twenty-seven,” he answered with a smirk. “Moya koroleva is still being lazy.”
I flushed at the memory of the night before, glancing at my phone to avoid his gaze. 9:27am flashed before my eyes, so I heaved myself out of the bed and into the closet. “That’s still early for you,” I called out as I pulled on a sweater. “What are you up to?”
There was a pause in the conversation as I finished getting dressed and padded out into the kitchen, where he was crunching on some corn flakes, leaning against the counter. When he saw me, he set the bowl aside and spread his arms, and I accepted the invitation, nipping at his bicep before nuzzling against his chest.
“I have to go to class,” he said. “Some of us think attendance is important, you know,” he added in mock-admonishment.
I quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Uh-huh,” I said skeptically. “Come on. It’s Thursday, you never go to your Thursday classes.”
He sighed and pulled me closer. “I have to talk to Dr. García,” he admitted. “The good doctor has been hounding me.”
“I thought you were his favorite advisee,” I teased. “You told me he lets you get away with anything.”
“He has been hounding me to apply to an internship,” Misha explained, tugging his phone from the counter and handing it to me. “I have to…explain.”
I felt the future sweep in above us like dark clouds suddenly blocking the sun. “Oh,” I said, taking the phone and looking at the email Misha directed me to. I clicked the link in it.
It was a year-long internship at the Federal Reserve Bank of New York’s international operations division, analyzing the state of Russia’s economy, starting in June. You couldn’t get much more prestigious than the New York Fed in the world of finance, and it was a position where Misha’s background could make him a compelling candidate. It sounded perfect.
If Misha were staying.
I sighed too, setting the phone aside and putting my arms around Misha’s waist, burying my face against his shoulder. “You’d be so good at that,” I mumbled.
He just nuzzled my temple. “Bah. I would probably cause an international incident. Spill vodka on the wrong politician’s shoes.”
Even when I was miserable he could get me to chuckle, which was how I knew he’d be good in that job, or any other he tried. He was so much smarter than he let people see most of the time, and more than once, I’d watched him guide people without letting them feel the strings he pulled. People like that can succeed anywhere, with a little effort.
My mind rolled the thought over and over, remembering how smooth he’d been at the Sigma alumni reception. How fluidly he’d talked about business he had actively avoided learning about. I mentally pasted that version of him into an office where he actually was paying attention, where he’d have so much information. Where he’d meet so many influential people. The things he could do with that access—
Wait.
That thought sparked something. Before I knew it, the thought was evolving into an idea, and then the idea split into a dozen thoughts from different angles.
“Misha…” I pulled back to look up at him. “This is going to sound weird. But…why did you pledge Sigma? Did your father make you?”
He blinked. “No. The deal was I do whatever I want for four years. I came here to let loose,” he said, his eyes getting distant as he thought back. “It seemed like an easy way to get friends, parties. A one stop shop, yes?”
“You never cared about the connections?” I asked.
“No. If anything, all that—” He waved a hand vaguely as if to say all that bullshit— “made me think twice about joining.”
“But you have those connections now,” I prompted. “All those businessmen and politicians at the party. And you have personal relationships with Monty, and Elliott, and…and Adrian,” I said hesitantly.
Misha frowned. “Calloway will not be doing me any favors,” he corrected, ruffling my hair. “But Parker, maybe. Jacob has built some connections at a big-deal tech company, too. From an internship, I think.” He tilted my chin up. “Now, tell me what is going on in that big brain of yours, little queen.”
I bit my lip thoughtfully, tightening my arms around him. “Do you think your father would see any value in all of those connections?”
His eyes narrowed in thought. “He might,” he said after a moment. “But he would say I could use them from Moscow.”
“Maybe not, but…what if it was more than just those? I think you should apply to this internship.” I said, clasping his hands. “The Sigma alumni are great to have in your phone book, but the people you’d meet working every day at the New York Fed? Maybe your father would be interested in letting you stay to build a network that only started with those groups.”
Misha’s eyes flickered across my face and I watched his mind go down the same path mine had. “He would value more influence here,” he said, hesitating. “But value them enough to let me stay? That I do not know. And he would not trust me if I offered it. I’ve spent nearly a decade trying to ruin my chances in his business.”
“But maybe it’s enticing enough that he would be willing to give you a chance to try,” I countered, dropping his hands to clasp his face instead. “The internship is only for a year. It could give you time.”
“A year…Dasha still wouldn’t be eighteen,” he said, but straightened, began rubbing my lower back idly as he thought about it. “But…that might make it more appealing to him. A year to prove myself, but his threat still holds after? He might allow this. I can’t say.” He swallowed, like he was trying to suppress hope before we could cling to it. But he could see it, the possibility, the opportunity. “But if he did, and I did well, then maybe…”
I hadn’t dared think beyond a year, but he was jumping ahead of me now. “Maybe he’d give you more time? Enough to run out Dariya’s clock?” I suggested, and he nodded slowly.
“Maybe. Eighteen doesn’t solve everything, but it helps,” he answered. “And if I’m building my own network for that time, maybe…maybe I can use it for other things. Maybe I can clear a path for her that he cannot block,” he breathed, as if the idea alone was staggering.
“A path for both of you,” I corrected, almost bouncing with an energy I knew was dangerously close to optimism. “You could do it. I know you could.”
“A year,” he muttered again, extracting one of his hands from mine to grab his phone and look at the internship listing with new eyes. He was still trying not to get too excited, too. I could tell from how he was tapping his fingers on the back of the device. “A year to make contacts, a year to build something. A year to show him what I’m capable of before I snatch it away from him.” He grinned at that thought, then looked at me. “A year with you,” he added, pulling me back to him and pressing a kiss to my forehead. He held it for a long moment.
“So, you think it’s worth a try?” I asked eagerly.
“It is so many maybes,” he murmured. “The only time I have ever negotiated with him was to come here.” Misha looked up at the ceiling. “But it could work. So…yes, it’s worth trying. It’s something.” He looked back down at me, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Moya umnitsa. You are so clever.”
“You were the one with the strategy,” I pointed out. “And you’re the one who’s already started building the leverage. I just put the two together, that’s all.”
“’That’s all,’ she says,” he said, circling his arms back around me and swaying me back and forth. “You always see more than anyone else.”
I leaned into the gentle movements, feeling a bubble of giddiness welling up inside me. “You’re still the one who’ll have to do the work. Starting with actually getting the internship.”
He pulled away, blinking, then laughed incredulously. “Emma. That is the easiest part by far,” he said. “I have run away from my last name all my life. But this time? For a low-clearance internship analyzing Russia’s economy? I’ve always hated my father’s name, his business, but this time Sokolov is a key that will open the doors.”
I pouted up at him. “Okay, fine, when you put it like that I feel silly.”
He laughed, the best laugh I’d heard from him in weeks, and kissed me. Finally, we had a plan. We had a chance.
Bonus Content:
The Dark Lord Rizzmo
= Feb 2 – 4:16pm – Us =
Author’s Note
B-Side Track: Boney M – Rasputin
Misha, you big dingus. You’ve been sitting smack dab in a possible solution for years. (In fairness, he never had a real motivator to stay in the US before, he just didn’t want to go work for his dad in Moscow.)
FUN FACT:
The New York Fed really does have internships and they are quite prestigious. But in full disclosure: I don’t believe they have internships for new graduates, only undergraduates and Ph.D candidates. Sorry to any NY Fed employees reading this. (Please tell me if you are, I’d be stoked.)
Alright, these two lovebirds have A Plan. Surely it will go smoothly and there will be no bumps in the road. Right?