“Yes, but what? You don’t like American girls?” she teased.
Evasive words were on the tip of my tongue when a voice spoke up in my head. There’s no reason to hide here.
“Yes, but I’m gay,” I told her, meeting her eyes directly. It was the first time I’d said the words out loud to anyone. I wasn’t ashamed or anything, but growing up where I had, sexuality simply wasn’t talked about, whether you were gay or straight. Clearly, the boundaries here were different.
Amy sighed, centering herself on her chair, her body slouched. “Figures. I knew you were too good looking to be straight.” She picked up her wine glass and took a long, long drink. “Sorry if I bothered you.”
I smiled. “You didn’t. It’s okay.”
“Somehow I always pick out the gay ones. It’s like a curse.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “Um. I’m sorry?”
She sighed and shook her head. “Anyway, welcome to America. Cheers.” She held up her wine glass. “Hey, how do you say cheers in Russian?”
“Na zdorovie.”
She blinked. “Yeah, I’m not gonna attempt it.” But she clinked her glass against my bottle, and we both drank as Ellen appeared with a plate heaped with food—a thick, juicy hamburger and French fries.
My mouth watered. “That looks delicious.”
“It is,” she said confidently. “And I wasn’t able to find a charger yet, but I’m still looking.”
I picked up the notebook, sticking the photo of Liliya back inside the pages, so she could set the plate down in front of me. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe I—”
I stopped speaking and looked down by my feet, where I was reaching around for my bag but felt nothing.
It was gone.
“Again, I’m so sorry. Nothing like this has ever happened here before.” Ellen leaned over the bar and touched my arm. She was the bar owner and felt personally responsible for the theft—she’d apologized a thousand times, even breaking down in tears. “I feel sick about it.”
“It’s not your fault,” I told her. “It was very crowded. Even I didn’t see it happen, and it was right at my feet.”
The police officer who’d responded to her frantic call had asked everyone in the bar if they’d seen anyone leave with the bag, or anything suspicious at all, but no one had. He’d been nice, but hadn’t seemed too hopeful that my bag would be found.
At least I still had my passport. Thankfully, I’d stuck it in my coat pocket rather than back in my bag after showing it to Ellen. Replacing it in the U.S. would have been a nightmare. My biggest problem was that my wallet had been in my bag, so my cash and my bank card were gone. Now buying a hotel room for tonight wasn’t even an option. Neither was paying for my food and drink, not that I’d gotten to eat anything. And I was starving. But what could I do?
“God, you’re so nice. I feel like any other guy would be freaking out.”
“Wouldn’t do me much good.”
“But what will you do tonight?” Her brown eyes were wide and sad. “Where will you go?”
I shrugged. “I’ll find somewhere.”
Ellen threw her hands in the air, her voice rising in anguish. “How? You don’t even know anyone here! And someone took your wallet, so you have no money!”
“I’ll be okay. Really. I just have to charge my phone so I can find my friend.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt.
A determined look replaced Ellen’s tortured expression. “You know what? I’m going to help you. I believe in fate, and there must be a reason why you came in here tonight and all this happened.”
I shook my head. “I believe in fate too, but this was probably just random bad luck.”
She flattened both palms on the bar. “Nope. Nothing is random. Now it’s getting late, and I can see how exhausted you are, so I’m going to find you a place to stay and charge your phone tonight. And then tomorrow, I’ll help you find your friend.”
“That’s not necessary,” I protested, stifling a yawn.
“Maxim. Look at you. You’re about to fall over, you’re so tired. And my mind is made up.” Ellen nodded once, and her tone told me she wouldn’t be argued with. “I’ll be right back, I just have to make a phone call. You wait here.” She brought me another Corona before disappearing through the kitchen door, leaving me to wonder who on earth she was going to call.
Three
DEREK
Of course my sister needed a favor. Did she ever call me when she didn’t?
“I’m not fostering another rescue puppy, Ellen. I’m still trying to get the stains out from the last one I took in.”
“It’s not a puppy this time.” She lowered her voice. “It’s a person.”
“A person?” I propped myself up on one elbow. “What kind of person?”
“A Russian person.”
I frowned. “Ellen, what the hell? Is this another one of your friends from circus school?”
“I told you, it’s not circus school. It’s aerial arts class. And anyway, no, he’s not from there. He was a customer whose bag was stolen while he was sitting at the bar tonight.”
“His bag?”
“Like his carry-on bag. He’d literally just gotten off the plane from Moscow a few hours earlier. And the friend who was supposed to pick him up at the airport didn’t show.”
“How’d he end up at the bar?”
“He got in a cab and told the driver to take him someplace downtown. The driver brought him here. It was fate!”
I ignored that. Ellen was always droning on about fate and stars and mystical crap. “And then his bag was stolen?”
“Yes. Right under everyone’s noses while he was sitting at the bar. And no one saw a thing.”
“Yeah, those guys are good. Probably saw him get out of a cab with a bag and pegged him as a tourist. Easy mark. You call the police?”
“Yes. They came and made a report, but they don’t think they’ll find it. And the poor guy was so nice about it. But now he’s stranded here with nothing because someone at my bar stole everything he had. I feel responsible! I have to help him!”
I rolled my eyes. Ellen never saw a stray puppy or wounded bird or kitten up a tree she didn’t want to rescue. She’d been like that all her life. I didn’t fault her for having a big heart, but she had so much going on and so many roommates, somehow I always ended up with random animals at my house until she figured out where to take them.
“First of all, El, it’s not your fault. It could have happened anywhere.”
“But it didn’t. It happened right here.”
I ignored her stubborn tone. “Second, why is he your responsibility? Where’s his friend?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Can’t he call him?”
“His phone is dead.”
“So charge it.” For fuck’s sake. My sister was thirty. Why did it feel like I was talking to a first grader?
“He forgot his charger in Moscow. And I can’t find one here.”
“Oh, Jesus.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.
“Please, Derek. It’s only for one night. And you have an extra bedroom and bathroom at your house.”
“What about your house?”