Chapter 31
Svetlana Umanova coasted her creamy white moped to a halt, dismounted, and walked it to the bicycle stand, where she slipped its front wheel into the bracket of the stand, then eased her security cable---encased in translucent bright green plastic sheathing----through the wheel's spokes and then around the front fork of the wheel, and locked it. Assured that her precious moped would not---how had Kitty put the term again? she thought---'sprout legs and walk away', Svetlana made her way toward the front door of C'est Sing.
Svetlana looked up at the brilliant turquoise awning over the door, with "C'est Sing" emblazoned upon it in gold letters, and smiled. She then returned her attention to the door, and reached out to take the bright brass s-shaped handle in her little hand. It was only then that she paused to glance at her reflection in the plate glass window in the shop's ornate door. Svetlana saw a small tigress, with wavy black hair pulled back away from her face. She looked critically at her face's reflection, liking what she saw---well, for the most part. She smiled as she somewhat reluctantly agreed with Madame's assessment of her hair in a braid. It did really show off her face---which most men would of proclaimed as gorgeous, if not exquisite!---much better. She reached up one slender hand to gently smooth her ebony hair back. However---much like many women her age, of course---Svetlana didn't like everything about her face. She gazed critically at herself, thinking…my face is too wide, and my stripes are uneven in places. She frowned slightly thinking too that her big dark brown eyes were set too far apart, and that her lips were too full. She then looked down to her figure…and---not to her surprise---found further fault. My hips are too wide, she told herself, and I am---and here she blushed---too chesty as well. She did, however, like her narrow waist, and trim abdomen…and thought pretty highly of her legs as well. Now, as for her tail…girl, do not go there, she then told herself, and snorted. "What a prima donna I am," she whispered to her reflection just then, annoyed with herself. "Standing here, blocking the door, while I criticique myself!" She changed her expression to one of conviction, and thrust the door open enthusiastically…ready for another day.
Maria Foloreva---the dynamic Arctic vixen and the other half of Yuri's 'Russians'---looked up from her complicated spreadsheet on her computer as the front door opened, a soft musical chime sounding to alert the sales staff accompanying that event. She saw her best friend, Svetlana, stride purposefully inside. Upon seeing her petite---yet gorgeous---friend, Maria's face lit up…as it usually did. "Dobre utro, Svetlana!" she called, even as she got to her feet, very pleased to see her dear friend. "All caught up on your beauty sleep, nyet?" she teased, her blue eyes twinkling.
"Da, I am awake now, Maria," Svetlana replied with a small laugh, shaking her head. "It is remarkable what a little sleep can do."
Maria frowned slightly as she noticed something…well, different…about her friend's appearance. Then, it hit her! "You have changed your hair, da?" Maria observed, then grinned. "I like it. It allows us to see your pretty face better, tovarisch."
Svetlana blinked, then blushed softly. "Stop it, Maria," she complained, yet smiled. "You are as bad as Madame!" Svetlana briefly touched her dark hair, then added, "What is with you all? I am no prettier than any other woman at C'est Sing…"
Maria canted her head in confusion, her blue eyes narrowing. "Nyet," she plainly replied, shaking her head. "You are wrong, my Svetlana…very wrong. You are---beside Madame herself, of course---the prettiest woman here."
"Nyet, it is you that is wrong, Maria," Svetlana protested, feeling annoyed as her cheeks flushed once more this morning. She then decided the best course was to change the subject…entirely! "So, Ms. Hot Shot Executive," Svetlana teased, smiling a bright smile. "How do you find life among the powerful and influential?"
Maria snorted, then giggled. "Powerful and influential? Ha, that is rich, Svetlana!" Maria replied, chuckling. "But, for your information, my pretty one, it is not so bad as I had feared it might be."
"Oh?" Svetlana posed, considering her friend's answer.
Maria shrugged then grinned softly. "My new position is much like my old job…but with many new responsibilities. None that are beyond my abilities, thank goodness. But, it does keep me much busier than I used to be."
"What keeps you so busy, my poor over-worked friend?" Svetlana teased still, grateful to be able to talk about anything other than her own looks this morning.
"'Over-worked' is it, my Svetlana?" Maria challenged, then laughed. "Hmm, for example, this very morning---my first day on the job, da?---I have had to 'discourage'---Naomi would call it 'chase away'---five rather enthusiastic, yet devious paparazzi from the premises." Maria crossed her arms before her chest before she continued her tale. "I found them snooping around in the back, where Madame's seamstresses work, asking the staff some most embarrassing questions."
"Those paparazzi…they are pests," opined a displeased Svetlana with fervor.
"Da, ones that can prove harmful, however," Maria explained. "Needless to say, tovarisch, once I was alerted to the situation, I gave them all our latest press release, and a 'firm' escort to the door."
"You did not injure any of them, da?" Svetlana asked suddenly, concerned that these pests may of pressed her poor Maria a bit too far perhaps.
"Nyet, nyet…do not worry," Maria quickly replied, shaking her white-maned head. "The only injuries they sustained was to their over-inflated egos, my friend…I assure you."
"Good," Svetlana answered with a grin. She then moved over to gently hug her friend. "I am very proud of you, my Maria."
"Spasiba, Svetlana," Maria replied, smiling fondly at the little tigress before her. She then took Svetlana's hands in her own, and looked into her surprised brown eyes. "Thank you for recommending me for this promotion, my friend," Maria said, blushing.
Svetlana only smiled back, canting her pretty head, and squeezing Maria's hands in congratulations. "You deserved it, Maria. I only told Madame and Naomi the truth when they asked what I thought of the idea. I told them I though it was a brilliant one…and that you were perfect for the job! Oh, I know that Desiree was in consideration too, as was our sweet Antoinette. But, after Naomi described the position, I knew you were the best candidate, Maria. I simply told Naomi just that was all."
"Spasiba again, my friend," Maria replied, then gently kissed Svetlana once on each cheek…a Russian custom among dear friends. She then leaned back and cupped Svetlana's cheek with her hand a moment. Then, she gasped, remembering something. "Bozhe moi!" Maria exclaimed, then shook her thick white-haired head. "I just remembered, Svetlana! Naomi asked me to tell you that she would like some of your time---when you got in---to have a conversation with you."
"She did?" Svetlana wondered aloud, curious. "I wonder what she wants to talk to me about?"
"I have no idea," Maria confessed with a laugh. "However, I do know the best way to find out, my friend…"
Svetlana grinned, knowing what Maria was alluding to. "Da, I know. Talk to Naomi. I know, I know," Svetlana replied with a giggle. She then nodded companionably to Maria. "Well, as that is the case, my friend, I will not keep her waiting. Now, Maria…I will see you later, da?"
"Da!" Maria assured her with a smile. "Go on. Naomi is waiting for you." A moment later, she added, "Oh, and remember…we have lunch with our boys today as well!"
"Da, now that I remember!" Svetlana assured Maria, then made her way toward Naomi's office. Svetlana approached Madame's---er, make that Naomi's---office, smoothed her hair nervously, straightened her shoulders, and knocked politely twice upon the rich burlwood door. "Mademoiselle Rousseau?" Svetlana called softly, inquiringly.
Naomi looked up at the knock upon her door, then smiled a small smile as she heard Svetlana's voice. She closed the folder she had been looking at and slipped it back into the file drawer of her desk. "Svetlana…do come in, cheri!" she called, laying her long slender hands upon her desk blotter.
The door opened and Naomi saw Svetlana's sweet face appear, her large beautiful eyes showing a mix of anxiety and curiosity. "Maria tells me that you would like to see me, da?" Svetlana asked very tentatively.
"Oui, I would," Naomi answered with a smile. "Now, do come in and shut the door, hmm?"
Svetlana did so, her heart beating a bit faster right now. "May I ask what you wish to talk to me about, Naomi?" Svetlana asked, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her nervousness just then.
Naomi nodded. "You may, cheri," she allowed, but then beckoned her to the chair before her desk. "But first, Svetlana…please, do sit down. Be as ease, mon ami."
Svetlana smoothed the back of her dress against her legs then sat down in the richly appointed chair. She then looked up at the strangely silent Naomi, and swallowed with some difficulty. "Am---am I being fired?" she asked, all of the sudden.
Naomi blinked, then laughed softly, a sound that was music to poor Svetlana's ears. "Non! Oh, Svetlana…whatever made you think of that?" Naomi asked in a kindly voice. "No, you are far too valuable for us to let our competitors' have you, you know."
Svetlana sighed with relief, beginning to breath normally again. "Bozhe moi, I am so relieved," Svetlana declared shakily.
"Come now, Svetlana," Naomi told her, smiling again. "However, I do hope your calendar is fairly open this day, cheri." Naomi then turned her now serious amber eyes on the surprised tigress before her. "For, our conversation, mon petite…I think it may take some time, I fear."
Naomi had no idea just how right her assessment would prove to be.
Meanwhile, outside of Paris' Interpol Headquarters…
Nyoko Tozo got out of her parked Jaguar XJ, which nestled in one of the visitor parking spots just outside Paris' Interpol headquarters. The young, slender, and attractive cougar woman looked up at the building, then smiled, shaking her head, making her long dark brown hair dance. "Aiee, Keiko-sama," she whispered, even as she pulled her leather briefcase from her car, then closed the door and locked it. "What have you gotten yourself into now, my friend?"
Nyoko Tozo had been an attorney for seven years now, five of those as Keiko Zuikawa's personal attorney. Nyoko had been a model student throughout her schooling and on through university, where she graduated with top honors. In fact, it was at university where she had first become acquainted with the Zuikawa's…the billionaire shipping family. But, that was neither here nor there right now, Nyoko thought as she ascended the stone steps to the front entrance of the building. As she moved along, she could not keep from thinking about her client, the one-of-a-kind Keiko Zuikawa. Keiko, she knew, was a bright---nay, brilliant---and vibrant young woman…one with spunk, determination, and the beauty to of gone places. Big places. However, that was not the case with this one. Nyoko did not really appreciate the fact that her client---and friend!---Keiko seemed to have the most uncanny ability to land herself in trouble. Big trouble, it seemed.
Nyoko followed a group of plain-clothes detectives inside, feeling the hem of her navy blue skirt swish around her lovely calves. Even as the pretty lawyer moved her way within Interpol, she could not stop thinking about her exciting, and most unpredictable relationship---both personal, as well as professional---with Keiko. She and Keiko knew one another very well…well, Nyoko then mused, as well as a young attorney might know her most privileged client. It certainly didn't hurt that, in fact, the two young women were actually distant relatives. Keiko's youngest sister, Mariko, had been entered into marrige arranged by their father, Senji, with Nyoko's second cousin, Ichiro Toyota.
As she waited for the elevator, Nyoko smiled as she remembered how she and Keiko had first met years ago, at the Zuikawa/Toyota wedding. It had been a grand occasion now true…but as both Nyoko and Keiko were young, headstrong women, neither had behaved very impressively during the wedding, nor at its reception. The two rebels---well as rebellious as two Japanese girls could be, one supposed!---had taken a nearly instant liking toward one another. The pretty cougar was brought out of her reverie a moment later when the elevator chimed. The doors opened on the first floor, and Nyoko stepped briskly off. She briefly consulted a directory in the main hallway, then followed the signs to Interpol's work area. She opened the door, and instantly spotted the bright blonde hair of an petite animated vixen, who seemed to be talking quickly with her hands. Nyoko grinned at the little vixen's antics, but had a job to do. She then reached out a hand to briefly pluck the sleeve of the little detective. "I beg your pardon, Miss. But, could you please direct me to where I might find a Captain Connelly?" Nyoko inquired with exquisite politeness and manners.
"Huh?" The vixen replied, then shook her head to clear it. "Sure! Gimme a minute, would you?" the blonde woman added, and began to almost comically looked around, apparently looking for someone. Nyoko had to lift a hand to cover her mouth to prevent her laughing as the plucky vixen with the bright blonde hair grinned, spotting her target, then cupped her hand around her mouth and bellowed, "YO TRISH! GOT SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YOU, GIRL!"
Captain Trish Connelly lifted her reddish-blond haired head at Kitty's bellow. "God save Ireland," Trish sighed, closing her eyes. "But that lass could double as a foghorn, so she could." Trish then turned to Kitty. "Give me a moment, luv…I'll be right there!" Trish shouted to Kitty, who she saw now in conversation with an attractive, demure cougar woman with long, straight dark-brown hair, dressed in a navy blue suit and skirt. Trish turned to Constable Trombley, a short wide-chested marmot fellow. "Take care o' that for me, would yeh, Trombley?" Trish directed, smiling his way.
The marmot constable smiled in understanding, then replied in a textbook New York accent, "You got it, Cap'n," he told her, took the files Trish handed him, and departed.
Trish took her suit coat from the back of her chair, put it on, shrugged it into shape, and then strode over to where Kitty stood with this stranger.
"…oh, yeah, Trish now…she's from Ireland, you know---" Kitty was telling the woman, a woman she had only just met.
"That'll be enough, Lieutenant Petro," Trish commanded, laying a heavy hand on the chatty vixen's shoulder. "Is this lass here to see meself, now, Kitty darlin'?"
"Yep!" Kitty replied, shrugging Trish's hand off her shoulder. "Er…though, I didn't get her name, I'm afraid," Kitty added a bit sheepishly. That couldn't keep Kitty down for long, and she then grinned at Trish. "So, sport…exactly when were you going to get around to letting me know---you know, your buddy, your pal!---that you got promoted to Captain? Huh? Huh?"
"Hush yerself now, Kitty," Trish remonstrated with the irrepressible vixen. "I'll be tellin' you all about it---so I will!---after work, if yeh like." Trish then looked over to Kitty's desk, which still bore stacks of unfinished paperwork. "Don't you be havin' a wee bit o' paperwork to be finishin' up, me lovely wee Lieutenant?"
Kitty smiled, realizing Trish was sending her packing…for the moment at least. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay…I'll talk to you later, Trish," Kitty groused, then laughed and shook her head as she headed back for her desk.
Trish then turned her attention to the polite young cougar woman before her. "Now, I be Captain Trish Connelly…how may I help you, luv?" she asked, pushing her strawberry blonde hair back over one shoulder.
"Hello," Nyoko began, as she held out her hand to greet the Interpol Captain, and once Trish took her hand, they shook. "It is good to meet you, Captain Connelly. I am Nyoko Tozo, attorney---as well as friend of---one Keiko Zuikawa. Whom, if I am not mistaken, you are currently detaining."
"Aye now, that'd be right, so it would, lass," Trish replied as she released the very professional-looking cougar woman's hand. "I'm not sure, but I'd be fair guessin' you might be wantin' a wee word with meself then first, eh?"
"Indeed, I would very much like a word with you, Captain," Nyoko confirmed, but then shook her head briefly. "However, if I may be allowed…I would first like to confer with my client, Lady Zuikawa, if that is all right with you, Captain."
"Far be it from the likes o' meself to be denyin' the lass a wee visit from her counsel, o' course," Trish replied.
Nyoko bowed her head in thanks. "That is most kind of you," she stated.
"Think nuthin' o' it, lass," Trish told her. "Now, I'll take yeh to her, so I will…if you'd care to follow me," she added, beckoning for the polite and stately Nyoko to follow her.
Trish led Nyoko to the elevators, waited for her to climb aboard, then pushed the button for the seventh floor. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss," Trish said, more from professional curiosity than anything else, "but, have yeh come all the way from Japan then?"
Nyoko smiled, and shook her head. "Iye…er, I mean, no," she replied, stumbling to provide the English response instead of her native Japanese. "My firm has a Paris office, you understand."
"Ah, I see, so I do," Trish replied. She then continued her line of inquiry. "Do you know Ms. Zuikawa personally then…I mean, as well as professionally?"
"Hai, I do," Nyoko replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the Irish vixen's questions. "But, I may not discuss that, you see…client/lawyer privilege, you understand."
"Sorry 'bout that, luv," Trish apologized with a grin. "Once a detective, always a detective, don't they say…" The elevator chimed as it finally reached the seventh floor. "Ah, here we are…come along, Miss Tozo."
Trish escorted Nyoko back through the doors to the holding area, and finally to the security desk, where Trish rang up the guards…so that they could escort Keiko from her cell to see her visitor. Trish then led Nyoko into one of the unused interrogation rooms, and bade her to sit. "Yer client's on her way, so she is," she informed her.
"Hai, domo," Nyoko replied politely, then blushed…realizing she spoke in Japanese again. "Er, I am sorry, but I mean, yes…thank you."
Trish smiled kindly at the embarrassed cougar woman. "Don't yeh fret none, lass," Trish assured her, then spotted the guard at the door. "Ah, here we go. Your client's here, Miss Tozo."
The guard opened the door, and then led the oddly quiet Keiko Zuikawa---still clad in her stained green kimono---into the interrogation room. Trish then beckoned the guard out of the room. "We'll be leavin' the two o' you to yerselves," Trish told them both. She then pointed to the phone on the desk. "Just pick that up an' give us a call when you're through."
"Of course," Nyoko replied, bowing in thanks to Trish. "Thank you for all your courtesy."
"Don't mention it, lass," Trish said just before she ducked out of the room, closing and securing the door last of all.
Keiko waited a long moment, then moved forward toward Nyoko. "Konbanwa, Nyoko-san. I am most pleased to see you," Keiko told her friend/legal counsel.
Nyoko looked Keiko up and down, then sighed and reached her arms out to gather Keiko into a warm gentle hug. "I am most pleased as well," Nyoko assured Keiko, "if not a little surprised and shocked too."
Keiko appreciated her friend's warm embrace, lingering in it for over a minute before she disengaged herself from Nyoko's arms. "Thank you for your promptness, Nyoko-san," Keiko said again, very nervous.
Noyko nodded and took a seat on one side of the desk. She beckoned Keiko to take the other. Once both women were seated, Nyoko turned to her client, as well as relative and friend. "All right, Keiko-san. What have you gone and done this time, neh?"