~ Can't Buy My Love ~
by Katia N. Ruiz
passionatetyger@aol.com
Copyright 2004
Disclaimers: see part one.
THIS IS A LITTLE OF WHAT WENT ON LAST WEEK…
The gentle voice startled Oksana out of her thoughts. She spun around to find Yuliya gazing at her from a few feet away. She swallowed hard, hoping that Yuliya would not talk about what she saw. "What is it?" She managed through a suddenly dry throat.
"Lunch is ready," Yuliya said slowly, her eyes flashing from Oksana to the door and back. Yuliya was very surprised to find Oksana standing in front of her father's old bedroom door, her hand on the knob. She was on the verge of saying something about it when she caught the look in Oksana's eyes. They begged her to drop the subject, and she suddenly felt sorry for the young child she'd helplessly watched grow into an adult that few people liked, much less respected.
Oskar Ivanov had almost been too late when he'd decided that Oksana had to change her ways.
And this week…
Chapter Fourteen
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"
Oksana winced at the shriek, stopping abruptly at the entrance to the tailor shop. She felt her grandfather's large hand press against her lower back, and she finished stepping inside and out of his way.
Camellia Rojas' eyes widened when she caught sight of Oskar Ivanov as he stepped inside the store. "Mr. Ivanov!"
Oskar smiled at the suddenly harried woman, but only slightly. While he understood that Camellia, the greatest tailor he'd ever had the pleasure of hiring, had a right to be angry with Oksana, he believed she should maintain some decorum in the face of adversity. He glanced over at Oksana, who had the grace to look embarrassed.
Many months ago, he had made the mistake of bringing his granddaughter to Camellia's shop; Camellia had hardly been able to concentrate on her work while Oksana had been there and Oskar had had to cut his visit short to get Oksana out of there. She hadn't stayed away, though, and Camellia's problems began.
"Mr. Ivanov, please forgive my language, please!" Camellia was saying, her voice shaking. She would hate to lose such a respectable and great customer for her faux pas, especially towards his granddaughter.
"It is fine, I have heard much worse, young lady. I just do not want to hear it again." He waited as she nodded eagerly, color returning to her pale cheeks. He studied the woman for a long moment, silently acknowledging her attractiveness before saying: "As you know, I will be fully retiring from the business world in the next couple of months."
Camellia listened attentively, an inkling of where Mr. Ivanov was heading snaking its way into her consciousness.
"My granddaughter will be stepping into my place as the head of Ivanov." He explained evenly, gesturing toward Oksana, who was staring at a wall over Camellia's head, her hands in her pockets. "I want her to get her suits from you."
"Oh, Mr. Ivanov, I don't think I can-" Camellia began, wringing her hands.
"Business is business, Camellia." Oskar said simply, his eyes gentle, and leaned forward onto his cane. "Can you separate the personal from that?"
Camellia was trapped between a rock and a hard place. By refusing Oksana, she would be risking losing Mr. Ivanov's respect and business, and she couldn't have that. She glanced over at Oksana and her eyes narrowed as they made brief eye contact; she felt the still fresh fury within. Oksana had mercilessly walked all over her during their brief affair, and it would be a long time before she got over it.
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"Ouch! Watch it!"
Camellia's apologetic expression was severely undermined by her smirk. She'd been relentlessly stabbing her newest client with her pins. "I'm so sorry," She purred, very insincerely.
Oksana scowled, glancing over at her grandfather, who seemed to be distracted by his tea. She thought she detected the tiniest of grins on his face, but she couldn't tell. Thanks a lot, I see I'm on my own. She thought, nearly groaning out loud as another pin found its way to her left butt cheek. "You know, next time, my grandfather won't be coming with me." She said in a low threatening voice, making sure her grandfather wouldn't hear her.
This gave Camellia pause; she was very aware that Oksana could be a class-A bitch. Anyone who'd seen her in action knew that. That fact didn't stop the hate from spewing from Camellia's eyes as she stood up straight. "You are lucky I respect your grandfather, Oksana, or I would have turned you into a pin cushion." She hissed.
Oksana said through clenched teeth: "Just finish up, so I can get out of here."
"It'd be my pleasure," Camellia said, her mouth curling in disgust. "You're worthless and you disgust me. I still wonder what attracted me to you in the first place. You're nothing but a gorgeous face and perfect body. Your grandfather will see his mistake soon enough." She was feeling so angry and bitter that she didn't bother to lower her voice.
Oksana fought the urge to wrap her hands around the smaller woman's neck. She clenched her teeth and looked away from Camellia, her eyes glazing over. It's only the truth, and you deserve it. You have no right to be angry with her, even he agrees with her. She looked at her grandfather. Leave her be.
Oskar listened to the exchange, surprised at Oksana's control. As he listened to Camellia's angry diatribe, he thought Oksana would do something to Camellia out of spite, as she was prone to do. The fact that Oksana didn't reply, and backed down, worried him. He watched as her eyes lost their anger and became resigned, his eyes narrowed when she began to clench her jaw rhythmically.
Perplexed, Oskar stood up, saying firmly: "I think that is enough for now, Camilla."
Camilla stood up to her full height, her eyes apologetic. "Yes, I have the information I need, Mr. Ivanov." She said nervously. She helped Oksana remove the test suit, folding it carefully and placing it on her counter. "I'll have at least three suits ready by Sunday evening, Mr. Ivanov."
Oskar smiled at the young woman. "Oksana will come pick them up, then. Call when they are ready."
Camilla's eyes snapped to Oksana, expecting to find at least a mischievous grin, but Oksana was standing by the door, her back to them. Camilla frowned, confused.
In his car, Oskar gazed at his granddaughter. They rode along in silence, and Josef -who normally chatted with Oskar as they rode along- seemed to have sensed the tension and held his tongue. "What is going on Oksana?" Oskar asked softly. "You are never one to hold your tongue. You let her insult you."
Oksana shrugged, slouching down on her seat and turning her face towards the window.
Oskar frowned. "Why did you not defend yourself?" He asked after a long moment.
"She told the truth," Oksana said evenly, never looking at him.
"Oksana-" Oskar began to protest.
"Don't," Oksana said through clenched teeth, cutting him off. "I'm a slut, a whore, whatever you want to call it. That's what everyone thinks of me, and you shouldn't be surprised. You know yourself I'm no saint, I earned those words fair and square."
"You are not a whore, or a slut," Oskar countered. "And people do not feel that way about you Oksana. Sure, you have been a bit wild-"
"Oh please, papa, you're the one who threatened to disown me if I didn't change my behavior, so don't try to bond with me or whatever this is!" Oksana replied bitterly. "I don't want it!"
"You are my granddaughter."
Oksana's eyebrows drew down in a scowl. "You're twenty years too late, papa!" She said, her voice rising. "I'm only doing this because I refuse to let you waste your fortune on that piece of shit Gustav, nothing less." She could feel the anger taking over, making her feel trapped, claustrophobic in the car. I need to get out of here. She punched the door open at the next red light, and climbed out of the car, quickly walking away.
Oskar stared after her, at a loss to what to do.
"Do you want me to follow after her, Mr. Ivanov?" Josef asked, feeling awkward. He had never seen Oksana this upset, and he worried that she would do something rash.
Oskar thought about it for a long moment. "Just drive on home," He finally said. "She will make her way there eventually. I think she needs some time to herself." And so do I.
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"Don't," Oksana said, leaning away from seeking hands.
"It's only a massage, Oksana," Millie said gently, it has nothing to do with sex." She pulled her back and began firmly kneading at her tense shoulders.
Oksana groaned softly, leaning back between Millie's strong thighs, her shoulders beginning to droop.
"See, no sex." Millie said.
"It is for me," Oksana replied hoarsely, clenching her thighs against the pounding of her sex.
Millie smiled, sympathetic to Oksana's situation, and simultaneously proud of her control. Three months before, Millie would have already been on her back, on the receiving end of some very sexual attention. "It's your choice not to act on it." She finally said, pressing her knuckles into the other woman's upper back. She shivered at the long moan Oksana let out.
"It's so hard not to act." Oksana whispered, clenching her hands on her lap, and forcing herself to relax.
Millie felt Oksana's muscles tense up again, betraying her struggle for control. She slowly stopped massaging the shoulders, which were once again hard as rocks. The older woman had been very surprised when Oksana told her about the events of her day. That Mr. Ivanov hadn't defended his granddaughter, however much she earned those words, offended Millie.
Millie said: "I know, and I'm aware of how this would have turned out months ago. You've come a long way, Oksana." She stood up and glanced at her mantel clock. "Domingo should be almost home." She said apologetically. She didn't want Oksana to leave yet, and she could tell that Oksana was not ready to leave either.
Oksana relaxed when Millie stopped touching her. She thought about Millie's words, chewing on her upper lip. "So you don't agree with them?" She asked softly, her eyes on her hands.
Millie took a deep breath, opting for honesty. "I think you have an addiction to sex," She said, meeting Oksana's eyes. "And I think you know that I'm probably right."
Oksana stood up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "I got a clue on that just recently." She said with a chuckle, heading for the door. She grabbed the doorknob, and paused, looking back at Millie. Her eyes were pleading. "Can I come back some time? To talk?" She asked softly, shyly.
Millie smiled softly, and walked up to Oksana, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's neck. She gazed up at her for a long moment, taking her in. "You're a tall drink of gorgeous, Oksana." She whispered.
Oksana was horrified to feel her cheeks flushing. "Thanks."
Millie rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Oksana in a chaste kiss. She stepped back quickly, aware of the pounding in her chest. "You can come whenever you want," She said with a tiny grin. "To talk."
Oksana drew a deep calming breath, shivering slightly. "You're an evil woman," She said, grinning back. Upon getting home, she'd be taking good care of herself. "And thank you, so much."
Millie watched her go, smiling to herself. She'd wanted to test Oksana when she kissed her, and was almost disappointed that her new friend was able to walk away. Oksana passed her little test with flying colors.
(NOTE: Remember, this is a first draft, and I'm posting as I go, so if something doesn't jive or it seems a little awkward, bear with me. I'm going back to fix things. Now, if you see something, point it out to me anyway.)
CONTINUED…
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