I purse my lips and return to my computer, irritated with Petr. "He's way too nice."
"He likes us. He likes you."
"Stop there, kid." I've sensed several times Todd knows there's something weird between Petr and me. It's none of his business how I feel, and he knows exactly why I do what I do. I focus on my computer screen. Todd sits down beside me, texting.
"He says he can come get me in fifteen minutes and there's another three feet of snow out today," he reports. "Omigod! They have sleigh rides! With horses!"
I smile. "They're billionaires. I think they can have whatever they want."
"And peppermint hot cocoa and there's a present for everyone who comes! This is going to be the best Christmas ever!"
Todd gets excited about two things: Maya and Petr. I'm pretty sure both will be at the party. The horses and food can't hurt. I want him to be happy, and I regret not having the luxury of allowing myself the same happiness.
Pacing in excitement, Todd distracts me for a full fifteen minutes before announcing Petr is there to pick him up. He darts out of the apartment with his backpack despite my firm negative about staying the night.
Crossing to the chilly window with a blanket wrapped around me, I watch him climb into Petr's truck and close the door when I'm convinced he's safe. Moving to my couch, I pick up my laptop and then pause, eyes on the cell phone on the table.
With dread, I grab it and dial Simon's cell number rather than his office. His vacation started Monday. We last spoke Friday, and he had no news. Desperation, and the holidays, make me dial when I know it's not possible for him to have any updates.
"Simon," he answers on the second ring.
"Hey, it's me."
"Merry Christmas!"
"Thanks. You, too." I hesitate, hating the idea of sounding as desperate as I am.
"I have some good news!"
I blink, suspecting I heard incorrectly. "You know this is Claudia, right?"
"Yeah, kiddo, I do." He chuckles. "Got the call yesterday in the middle of dinner. The feds have what they need. One hundred and fourteen counts, and they're pretty sure the big ones will stick. They're arresting him next week. Even if he makes bond, he'll have an ankle bracelet until they haul his ass to court."
Speechless, I wait for him to say he's joking or maybe, they mean Christmas next year. After four years, the words bounce off me rather than penetrating. They're too surreal to process.
"Did you hear me, Claudia?" Simon prods.