"I didn't fire anyone," Dimitri said calmly, examining the contents of my fridge.
Viktor bristled. "Are you calling me a liar?" He turned to me. "Rosemarie, he's accusing me of being a liar!" he cried, throwing his hands up. Mia glared at him while Dimitri just shook his head.
"I just said I'd be cooking for her from now on. She can do whatever she wants to do with you." I just blinked at him. When his lips twitched, my temper flared. He was teasing me. Whatever I want with –EW!
"Watch it," I growled, crossing my arms. I turned to Viktor. "See? You're not leaving. I'm not firing you, okay?"
Viktor shook his head and pointed at Dimitri. "If you're doing all the cooking, it's obvious that I'll have nothing to do! I'm a chef, for God's sake!" He leaned into me. "Idiot," he whispered, rolling his eyes.
I sighed. "I'll find something for you, Viktor," I assured him. "And you." I turned to Dimitri. "Why do you have to cook for me? Viktor's been to cookery school. In France. He's worked with some of the top chefs in the industry and is,in my humble opinion, the best chef in this country." Viktor glowed under my praise, and even pretended (I hope) to wipe a tear. "I doubt you could do better."
"I'm not better," Dimitri agreed. "But I am healthier. All this," he pointed at the beautiful French toast lying on the kitchen counter, "is full of fat. You can't eat that. And are these mangoes?"
"Indeed," Viktor said proudly. "Miss Hathaway loves mango pudding. They're all imported from India." He patted my arm. "Only the best for my Rosemarie."
Dimitri just looked at him. "It's September." Viktor shrugged. Dimitri took one last look at the fruits and vegetables and turned to the chef. "Get rid of everything here."
He was really going to kill Viktor one day.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Viktor exploded. "Do you know how expensive some of that stuff it? How rare?"
"Exactly," Dimitri replied, not even flinching. "Nothing in here is seasonal or local." He turned to me. "Which is what you are going to be eating from now on. The best produce is always whatever's availabe fresh at the moment. We have some shopping to do. " With that, he strolled out of the room, leaving the three of us to stare blankly at the door.
"Amazing," Mia repeated. I kicked down the urge to smack her.
"Rosemarie," Viktor sobbed, running into my un-open arms. "Why would you bring him here? As much as I appreciate the eye candy, there's no doubt about the fact that he's going to ruin me!"
"No he won't," I said soothingly. I patted his bald, shiny head. Lord knows how much of his salary he'd wasted on useless hair transplants. "Because I'm to go talk to him." With that, I shoved him into Mia and chased after the Thor who walked out my door.
Ha. I should've become a poet.
"Get rid of him, Rosemarie!" Viktor shrieked from the kitchen. How I wish I could.
It wasn't hard to find him. The front door was open and Dimitri was outside on the steps, tying his shoe laces. "Okay, first of all, stop walking out like that," I said. He ignored me. "And second, stop giving Viktor a heart attack. I happen to like having him around." He finally looked at me, eyes inquisitive.
"I don't know what you mean," he said innocently.
I sucked in a breath. It wasn't hard to forget that he was so gorgeous. I'd known him for fifteen minutes and already wanted to whack that smirk off his face. He got under my skin unlike any other person I knew. But right now...he was just perfect. The hardness had left his face and his eyes glowed in the faint sunlight. He squinted a little as he looked up at me, his mouth slightly open. I was utterly mesmerized. He was so beautiful.
I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend! Stop it stop it stop it-
He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat, snapping me out of my dazed state.
"Um," I said, turning away to hide my blush. "The getting rid of food thing. Freaks him out." I remembered something. "And he is not my boyfriend," I snapped, all traces of attraction gone. Dimitri's lips twitched again.
"I'm serious," I insisted. "I have a boyfriend. Who is not him."
"Alright. Third?"
"What?" I asked, wishing I could raise an eyebrow.
"Third on the list," he said slowly, like I was mentally retarded. "You were listing the things I should or should not do."
"Are you actually going to follow any of them?"
"I doubt it."
I wanted to strangle him. "Third, what exactly am I going to eat? And are you leaving?" I asked hopefully.
He barked out a laugh. "Not a chance. We're going to the farmer's market."
"A what now?"
"Do you not know what that is or are you just saying that in utter disbelief?"
"I don't know what that is," I admitted, surprised at the shame that coloured my tone. Why should I feel ashamed about this? Stupid, stupid trainer making me feel stupid feelings I didn't want to feel. I stomped my foot into ground, hoping to leave a hole big enough for me to fall into.
He didn't look too surprised. "It's a place where farmers sell their produce. We're going there because it's fresh, local and seasonal."
"Oh, okay," I said, nodding my head. I rubbed my hands, warming them against the cold. "Wait, we?"
"Yes, we," he replied, standing up. I was instantly dwarfed by him. He was well over a foot taller than me. "It'll be a good experience for you. I'm guessing you don't know how to pick out fruits and vegetables?" I shook my head. "Then you're definitely coming. You need to know this."
"Going somewhere?" We both turned to the doorway. Mia stood there, smiling not so innocently next to a sullen Viktor.
"Farmer's market," I told her. She gave me one of her 'Are you serious?' looks. I gave her one of my death glares.
"Viktor," Dimitri said, addressing the chef for the first time. "I want you to clear the entire house of food."
I nudged him with my shoulder. "Remember what I said about not giving him heart attacks?" I muttered.
Dimitri took note of Viktor's alarmed expression. "Clear out the kitchen and leave everything on the table, " he amended. "We'll see what we can and can't use." My chef looked at me for conformation.
"Do whatever he wants," I said wearily. I was starting to feel really tired and my headache hadn't eased yet. "Do we have to go now?" I asked Dimitri. "It's barely seven thirty."
"The earlier we go, the fresher the food. And it'll be less of a problem for you too." I got what he meant. Paparazzi. Many of them had the common sense -unlike someone -to start work at nine.
"We can't avoid them all," I sighed. "There are some masochists probably hiding out in the bushes." I turned to Mia. "Issue a statement about the role, will you? And him," I said, my nodding towards Dimitri. "I'd prefer to avoid unncecessary rumors."
She nodded. "Where are you gusy going anyway? I don't think anything's open right now."
"There's one place that I know," he said, walking up to them. "It's a little far away, but they'll be open." He looked at Viktor apologetically. "I'm sorry for being so harsh before. I didn't mean to disrupt your work, so I hope you'll forgive me." His voice was soft, sincere. I could feel the intensity of his gaze from over a foot away. Poor Viktor's heart was probably in his mouth. Swallowing audibly, he nodded. Dimitri pulled out his phone. "Can I have your number?"
Mia's jaw dropped along with mine.
Dimitri was gay?
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
"Viktor has a boyfriend," I said loudly. Dimitri tore his gaze from Viktor and swiveled to me. From behind his head, I could see Viktor mouthing obscenities at me. It made my heart warm to know that I had so much respect from my staff.
"Oh," Dimitri said, frowning slightly. He returned his attention to Viktor. "Well, I need to get some stuff from the supermarket, but I'm pretty sure you'll have some of the ingredients, so I'll need your number either way," he explained, handing over his phone. Viktor took it with shaking hands, blushing. "I'll call you when I'm there," Dimitri continued, "and you're going to help me make sure I don't get stuff which you already have. I'd hate for things to go for waste."
I was going to cry.
Viktor looked like he was going to cry too, except that it would be tears of joy. He gazed at Dimitri with shining eyes. "Of course," he mumbled and hastily punched in his number. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Dimitri."
Viktor smiled brightly. "Dimitri," he said slowly, tasting his name like it was some new exotic food.
Viktor! Shame on you!
Unfortunately, my telepathic connections failed to send him the message. Viktor continued to ogle Dimitri.
"Don't forget, Viktor," Dimitri said seriously. "Everything should be laid out on the table." Mia hid her laugh poorly with a cough. I reached forward and pulled him away by the arm before he could do any more damage.
I glared at Dimitri. "Car. Now." I didn't miss the mischieveous glint in his eyes, or the barely suppressed smile. Without another word, Dimitri walked away.
"I won't forget, Dimitri," Viktor called, voice husky. I stared at him, incredulous.
"Shame on you!" I whispered furiously.
Viktor just sighed. "Rose, have you seen him? Spiridon wouldn't mind." His eyes widened and he grasped my arms. "Rosemarie, you cannot get rid of him, do you understand? You absolutely can't! I'll quit if you do!" I rolled my eyes. Like that would make a difference. I don't even know what he was going to be doing now that Dimitri was taking over. He'd probably sign up for a nude painting class in the hopes that Dimitri would agree to model for him or something.
"I have to go," I said quickly. "Don't forget to feed Liss and Avery, okay? You have to search for them, though." We air kissed and with one final what-am-I-getting-myself-into glance at Mia, I hurried to the car.
"What the hell was that about?" I asked, slamming the door shut.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't give me that innocent look again, buddy. It's not going to work on me. Do you realise that we're probably going to be greeted back with the glorious sight of Viktor in a pink feathered boa and fuzzy handcuffs?" Dimitri let out a bark of laughter, but didn't say anything else.
"Are you gay?" I asked point blank.
He smirked. "No."
I stared at him. "You knew of the influence you held over him." He didn't reply, just suppressed another smile. "Now he's going to listen to everything you say." I shook my head, grinning. "You clever bastard," I said, impressed.
The car squealed and jerked to a stop. I hadn't put my seatbelt on yet, so I was thrown against the glove compartment. My head thunked loudly asit hit the windshield. I moaned and rubbed my head slowly. My headache was back a vengence. Dimitri's jaw was clenched tightly, eyes closed, and arms strained against the steering wheel.
"What is wrong with you?" I cried, sliding back into the seat. "What happened?"
Dimitri exhaled loudly and opened his eyes. "Nothing," he said, his tone effectively ending the conversation.
The drive then on was insufferable. We'd been driving for twenty minutes in silence and it was just killing me. My body hurt way too much to appreciate the beautiful scenery that passed by. I couldn't fall asleep either, so just rested my throbbing head againt the cool glass and closed my eyes. After sometime, I heard a click. Vintage music flooded the car. I rolled my head to face him.
"Are you kidding me?"
"What?"
"That." I pointed at the stereo. "What sort of crap is that?"
"My car, my music."
"Come on. Please?"
"It's either this or country."
I sighed and started banging my head softly against the window. After I ensued that I was close to getting a concussion, I turned back to Dimitri. He looked relaxed, and was humming along to whatever the hell the radio was spewing. I didn't want to push him about it, but I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. I stared straight ahead.
"Was it something I said?"
He feel silent, and after a moment, I thought he was ignoring me.
"Something you said, but didn't mean," he said after a long moment. '
I replayed my words in my head. "Bastard?" I asked carefully. When he didn't reply, I knew I'd hit home. "I'm sorry," I said honestly.
"You didn't mean it," he repeated.
"Bad childhood?"
He paused. "Not something I'd like to talk about," he said gently.
I nodded. Neither of us spoke again. I sighed, sick of the silence. I half turned to face him, determined to get him to talk.
"How much father?"
"Not too far." He didn't look at me.
"How badly am I going to hurt because of your hard core training?"
His lips twitched at this. "Pretty badly."
"Are you Greek?"
He turned to me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No. What makes you think that?"
"You have a bit of an accent. I can't place it." I paused. "And you know, the whole Adonis thing you have going on." When he raised an eyebrow, I just rolled my eyes. "Please. You know exactly how you look and what effect you have on other people." My voice may have been steady, but I'm a hundered percent sure he caught my blush.
Smiling, he said, "I'm Russian. And we're here."
The market was not what I expected it to be.
There was just a dozen or so tiny stalls with plastic tarps over them. A hand painted wooden sign was nailed into the groud. The words 'Farmer's Market' were painted in bright red with a stereotypical happy farmer holding up a bunch of carrots. The air buzzed with human chatter and the smell of fresh dirt lingered. The whole place was just a giant explosion of colour. Red tomatoes, orange pumpkins, yellow bell peppers, green kale and of course, the autumn leaves.
"This place is crazy," I breathed.
"Welcome to one of the biggest farmer's markets in the state," Dimitri said softly. He let me take in the sight for another moment before touching my arm. "Come on. We have work to do."
As we passed dozens of stalls, random people called out to Dimitri. He smiled and waved back, occassionally stopping to chat for a minute or two. I could tell that not a lot of people recognised me, and I didn't know if I found that refreshing or not. A lot of celebrities keep talking about how they wished they could just lead normal lives, but many of them didn't actually mean that. When you've lived a different way your whole life, it's hard to switch back to the ordinary. Dimitri only introduced me as his friend, but never mentioned my name. I was fine with that, and just nodded and smiled politely.
After one particularly long conversation, he pulled me aside. "I have something I need to finish. Do you know how to pick out apples?" When I shook my head, he dragged me past several apple sellers and stopped at stall. "Stan," he said to the vendor.
Stan broke into a toothy smile. "Another one of your clients, eh?" When he nooded, Stan gave me a once over. "You haven't brought a lady here in a long time, Dimitri."
I raised my eyebrows at this. Dimitri ignored me and gave Stan a warning look. The farmer just laughed him off.
"Pick out five appples, alright? I'll get the other stuff." He paused and dug inside his coat pocket. He pulled out his phone and rolled his eyes at the screen. "Your chef is eager to please," he told me. To Stan, he said, "Don't help her out." With that, he strolled away.
I looked at Stan hopefully. "Any chance you'll ignore him to save a damsel in distress?"
He grinned and shook his head. "You'll never catch me crossing Belikov, miss." I sighed and began picking out the darkest apples I could find. Dark red meant ripe apples right? I could feel Stan staring at me as I increased my pile. "I know you," he said, recognition colouring his voice. "You're Hathaway, right? Rose Hathaway?" I looked up at him and nodded, smiling sheepishly.
Stan hesitated for a moment. "I don't want to bother you or anything, but my daughter is a huge fan. Talks about you all the time. Would you mind giving me your autograph?"
"Of course not," I said softly. "What's her name?" I asked, taking a pen and a writing pad from him.
"Lilly," he said proudly. I smiled as I scribbled down a message. I paused mid sentence, a though crossing my mind. I pulled my scarf away and handed it to him along with the stationary.
"Miss Hathaway, I couldn't-"
"I insist," I said firmly. "Now you can thank me by giving me just one clue to pick out the good apples from here."
"Just because they're dark red doesn't mean-"
"Stan," Dimitri's voice interrupted. "I told you not to help her." Stan looked at me apologetically before walking away from his stall.
"I'm very persuasive," I said quickly. "And how are you done so soon?" He held two bulging bags of groceries in each hand. He set them down carefully and walked over to inspect the heap of apples in my arms.
"It's not that hard when you know what you're looking for," he informed me. "And I said five apples, not fifty."
I shrugged. "I couldn't just pick five. That favouritism right there. The others would have been crushed."
Dimitri rolled his eyes and began to pluck out each apple and toss it back to Stan's cart. "Too red. Some of them discoloured." He held one up to me. "See that bit of brown right there? That means it's not good. And round apples are good for eating them raw. The longer ones are good for baking." He picked out the last apple from my hand, brushing my fingers in the process. My spine tingled and I shivered as he stared at me for a moment too long.
"Where's your scarf?"
"I gave it to Stan. His daughter is a huge fan," I explained. He frowned and stepped out of his coat.
"You'll fall sick," he said, handing it over. Without another glance, he turned to Stan, who had just returned. "Not a good season?"
"Tough times," Stan nodded. I shrugged into the coat and discreetly pressed my nose into the soft fabric. I don't know what cologne this man used, but it smelled absolutely divine. I saw Dimitri give him a hundred dollar bill
"No change," he smiled. "Let's go, Rosemarie."
I sighed and picked up the lightest bag. "Do we have to? I'd prefer to put off your promises of pain and misery for as long as I possibly can."
"Saying that would just make me torture you more."
I snorted and skipped ahead of him.
"You're unusually happy," he noted. "And watch your step, Rosemarie. You might fall."
"Don't call me Rosemarie. Only Viktor does that. I don't even think my mother calls me that. And your coat is so long. I feel like a hobo in it."
"It's called a duster, Rose. Don't diss the duster."
My laughter turned into a squeal of fright as I stumbled. The bag in my hand fell away as I hit the ground. The last thing I heard was Dimitri calling out to me before my vision blacked out.
My finals are a week away and I've studied absolutely nothing. But I really wanted to post the second chapter already. If you vaguely remember the details of the original, you'll know that there are a few differences. I don't think I'm sticking to whatever I'd written up before, so be prepared for something new (hopefully.)
I'm so sorry because of any mistakes I've missed out. And thanks to everyone who reviewed/PM'd me about this story. Means a lot to know that old fans are still reading this. You guys rock. :)
Oh and to Guest, about the three hour workout thing. It's fine, I'm not taking as a bitchy review. Anyway, since I'm not a trainer myself, I can't say for sure that that amount is perfectly fine. I'm just going by personal experience (not that I work out three hours every single day, but I've found that I'm fine after three spaced hours of strenous activity.) Besides, it's not three straight hours of hardcore stuff. And it's just fiction either way. And Rose worked her butt off when she came back to the Academy, training before, after and during school hours, so I don't think it's too out of character. Thanks for the feedback either way. :) I'll try to keep it a bit more realistic. :)