Dinner continues as Stepan grows drunker, making hints towards a sexual relationship between Katya and me with the subtlety of a desperate car salesman. It would be funny to view from a secondhand perspective, but being the object of the conversation makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
Katya excuses herself to help her mother with the dishes, and while I feel awkward allowing her to pick up after me, Stepan seems to insist on it.
“You know, I looked into that Millie girl you’ve been fucking, and there’s some stuff I think you should know about her,” Stepan says after a lengthy silence.
I try not to roll my eyes, barely succeeding. “So, you do know her name then? Interesting,” I reply, drinking the last of my wine and struggling not to reach for more. I might need it in order to endure whatever it is Stepan is trying to drag me into here.
“Did you know she used to be a stripper?” he states triumphantly as if he’s cracked the code to instill repulsion in me.
While I know that Millie and I aren’t seriously dating, and she doesn’t owe me anything, the idea of a room full of intoxicated men leering at her and reaching for her sickens me. If it’s true, I can’t blame her for trying to make a living for herself, but I hate that other men have had that kind of access to her when she was likely not enthusiastic about it.
“I didn’t know that,” I respond passively. I’m to the point that I’m growing tired of Stepan’s relentless insulting of Millie. I don’t understand his vehement dislike of her.
He should know better than to believe that I was ever going to end up with his daughter, and I doubt very much that she’s particularly invested in me as a partner. She probably sees me as more of a way to get away from her family, running off with some rich man and cheating on him with someone her age a few months later.
I get up to bring my glass into the kitchen, a petty excuse to leave Stepan in his sea of delusion the longer he drinks. As I enter, I see Katya standing near the sink finishing up the dishes from dinner.
“Before you say anything, I need you to know that I know we aren’t going to be together. I have been seeing somebody who I already like, and my father is in denial because he’s an artist,” Katya confesses, clearly relieved to have somebody to confide in, even if it is just her father’s business partner.
I sigh. “Yeah, I’m glad you said something. Your father seems really hellbent on us ending up together,” I reply, feeling the weight of the awkwardness beginning to finally dissipate.
“He has been that way forever. He doesn’t want me to marry for love. He finds it frivolous. He thinks I should just be sold off to the highest bidder, and that happened to be you by a longshot,” she responds, expressing an equal amount of relief. “I mean, if you want, I can have sex with you, but that’s really as far as I want things to go.”
I shake my head at her suggestion. She probably feels like it’s her duty to please whoever her father chooses for her, even though she’s a grown adult, capable of making her own decisions. If I were a crueler man, I would take her up on the offer. I know many men who would, but despite my years in the mafia, I don’t share that same sentiment.
“Why don’t you just stay faithful to your boyfriend, huh?” I suggest.
She smiles. “That’s probably better, yeah.”
“Is he good to you?” I ask, genuinely interested in her life now that I know I don’t have to pretend to be.
Her eyes light up again. “He’s amazing. He’s so thoughtful. I know you’ve been seeing somebody, and I really hope things work out for you two. My dad noticed a change in you when you started seeing her, and it’s making him crazy,” she says, laughing.
“Then you really should live your life on your own terms,” I reply. “No need to fuck around with men like me if you have other aspirations.”
She smiles. “You’re not half bad, Viktor. My dad is way more of an asshole than you are.”
“I bet,” I mutter, turning away.
When I return to the dining room, it’s clear that Stepan is too far gone to continue the conversation, much to my relief. I decide to leave, saying goodnight to everybody and disappearing into the night.
On my drive home, I can’t help but wonder what exactly could be keeping Millie from me. If I were my former self, I would spike her rent back up to get her attention, but I know that someone like Millie is too mature to respond to something like that in any way that would benefit me.
I need to know what’s going on.