Dmitry's Closet

from the giant man.
“You took good drink,” he smirked, sipping from his glass. “But it’s vodka that I would recommend taking straight to the head, not the wine.” He lifted his glass for her to observe.
“Well that depends on what kind of day you’ve had,” Royal said, coyly. “If you’ve had a day like mine, then you take everything to the head.”
“Oh, I see,” Dmitry grinned, utterly fascinated.
Leering back, she poured herself a shot of the Jewel of Russia vodka. Boldly, she took the shot and set the glass softly on the table. With her index finger, she pushed it farther away from her. Instantly, she feelsthe magic burn rush through her body. She wanted to cough but held it in – defiant until the end. Her watery eyes told on her as she tried not to gag.
The stranger looked at the empty glass, at the strange woman and laughed aloud.
“You look like flower and drink like weed.” His dimple deepened.
Following her direction like a good host, he set his wine glass down and poured himself a shot of the expensive vodka. He toasted her again and drank it quickly. The contents went down smooth and with no tingle.
His Adam’s apple barely moved. Then, he set his shot glass softly beside hers and smiled back.
“I like your attitude,” he said leaning over. “Tell me, what is your name?” His eyes sparkled like diamonds.
“It’s Royal,” she said, placing her napkin on her lap.
“Excuse me?”
“My name is Royal Stone.” She looked up at him under long dark eyelashes.
“Where did you get a name like that?”
“I don’t know.” Royal poured another shot of vodka. She started to feel a little more relaxed and maybe even a little buzz. “Don’t know my parents. I lived with a foster family until I was 18, and then I went to college. I graduate next week, and the company that I had landed a job with went under this week,” she explained.
“Oh, so, you’re out job hunting?” the man asked, more intrigued.
“Exactly,” she said, taking another shot.
Dmitry eyed her. “Try the duck. I think you’ll like it even more than the vodka.” His silky eyebrow arched again.
“Oh, sorry.” Royal smiled with more ease, putting her hand over her mouth. The alcohol gave her the edge that she needed. Plus, she liked how sometimes the strange man missed words when he spoke. English was definitely not his first language.
Dmitry smiled. “So, you’re looking for a job doing what?” He continued.
“Is this an interview?”
He shrugged his large shoulders. “It could be.” He sat back in his chair relaxed.
“Shouldn’t I at least knowyour name then?” She was mildly sarcastic.
“Wait. You don’t know my name?” The stranger winked his eye at her. “Everyone knows who I am.”
His voice was now a low whisper as if he were telling her a huge secret.
“I don’t know who you are,” she replied, whispering as well. She tasted the duck. Absolutely delicious.
“It caught you by surprise, did it not?” He looked at her plate, forgetting their conversation for a minute. “I told you. The best duck in Mid-South. This dish was featured in…Memphis Magazine one month ago.” He slapped his large hand on his equally large thigh in satisfaction. He was always pleased with a happy customer, even if she was not paying.
Royal nodded in satisfaction and at his enthusiasm. “Yes, it is very good,” she confirmed. “The best duck I’ve ever had.”
“Yes, after this, everything else will be all downhill.” He looked at her for a moment, then shifted back to their conversation with a large smile on his angelic face. “My name is Dmitry Medlov.” He stuck his hand out across the table and offered it to Royal.
She wiped her hands on her crimson-colored napkin and shook his hand gingerly, feeling his large fingers wrap around her entire hand.
“Nice to meet you. Like I said, I’m Royal Stone.” After a few drinks, she was starting to feel a little better.
“Nice to meet you too, Royal.” His eyes locked on hers, lingering. “Tell me what subject are you getting your baccalaureate degree in?”
“Business. Umm…would you like to see my resume?”
“You have it with you?” he asked, watching her as she quickly turned to her little tattered bag. His head tilted as he watched her every move.
Her long thin fingers rummaged through the well orga-nized folders and pulled out an off-white cotton sheet of paper. It was the most pristine thing in her disheveled little existence.
Proudly, she reached out and passed it to him. Her resume. Her life on one miserable page. He pulled his glasses from his jacket and placed them on. She was surprised for a minute. Although, they did make him look even more distinguished, he didn’t look like the type that would wear glasses. The silver wire rimmed frames sat perfectly on his chiseled narrow nose, across his suntanned face and his over his dreamlike eyes.
“Is this your restaurant?” she asked, interrupting his attention as she looked around.
“Dah.” He nodded but did not look up from the paper.
“Does that word mean yes?” Another interruption. She looked back at him.
He glanced up at her, “Dah.” His voice was silky smooth. He looked at her with a strange gaze then looked back down her resume. Royal was finally quiet, giving him a moment to digest her unworthiness.
Dmitry read her resume carefully with no expression on his face. She could not tell if he was impressed or like many of her other interviewers - unmoved, indifferent and ready to see her out of the door.
“And you graduate in one week?” he finally asked, placing the resume beside him on the table and taking off his glasses.
“Yes. I graduate next Tuesday.” She sat up a little straighter.
“Tell me, Royal. Are you particular about what job you would like?” He put his glasses back inside of his coat jacket and focused in on her, a hint of interest on his face.
“I’d like a job with the potential to move up in the or-ganization, but I’m willing