“Ig and Millie?” Maks clarified. “It seems like it to me. She’s trying to set me up with her friends.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that going?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in interest. While Maks was as handsome as he was charming, he had zero luck with the ladies.

“Don’t ask.”

“I just did.”

“Well, don’t ask again.”

Chuckling, I took one last drag of my fag before stomping it out and following Maks onto the train. I slid into the seat across from him and placed my hands behind my head, studying his amused face. “What?”

“You know,” he began, tapping his index finger on his lower lip. “I don’t understand the Taros brand of Mikhailov man.”

“I thought we were talking about you?”

“It seems we moved on,” Maks grinned.

“And I’m a part of the Taros brand of Mikhailov men?”

“You’re the commercial success.”

I laughed. “Don’t tell my old man that.”

“Don’t pretend he doesn’t already know,” Maks chuckled. “But really, Taros had a few heartbreaks and somehow he convinced you fellows to swear off relationships for some janky gentlemen’s club that’s so exclusive you idiots are its only members. Now, Igor’s so worried about breaking the crumby code, he’s hiding his dame from the two of you. That’s bananas!”

“It’s bananas Ig thinks I give a shit.”

“You don’t?”

“It’s weird,” I admitted, and it was. While I knew we all sought physical dalliances from time to time, it had been a Mikhailov motto to keep things uncomplicated. I wondered how badly my father had fucked me up that I never thought of anything more. Obviously, he hadn’t gotten to Igor in the same way he’d affected me, or perhaps that was due to my proclivities more than my brother’s sudden immunity to the poison. It was strange to consider that we were brought up a certain way because of my father’s pain, but maybe all children were raised that way. Regardless, Igor opening the door to have something more than we had had the propensity to complicate things for me, a fact that didn’t settle well. I thought I would live my whole life never having to explain why I wasn’t married or committed to a dame, and it would be assumed it just wasn’t what we did. Lucky for me, time was on my side. I didn’t predict the trajectory of Igor’s situation with Millie, or anyone else, would be swift, for the only changes that had the capability to stick were those done at a snail’s pace.

Every day in Chicago was borrowed, so who knew if I would be around to see the next one, if any of us would. People romanticized too much, while the universe moved in spite of them.