Chapter Six

Jasha

J asha played with Daisy and made sure she had what she needed. While he was having breakfast, someone had changed the cat litter and filled the bowls with fresh water and food. There was also a dry food container. At least Daisy was happy. The sound of a gentle tap echoed at the door.

“Come in,” Jasha said.

“Hi! I like your Christmas uniform.”

“Thank you, Jasha. Mr. Bronson is very particular about the holiday festivities. I came in here to let you know Mr. Bronson said Daisy may wander into the house. She doesn’t have to stay in your room.”

“He did?” Jasha was astounded to find a kind bone in Mr. Bronson’s body. That man had a dual personality, like Jekyll and Hyde. His father hadn’t seen the good side of him, nor did the Russian immigrants living in Brighton Beach.

“Yes, he always loved animals as a child, but his parents wouldn’t allow it. I’m glad you brought Daisy with you, and I know he’s pleased with her being here.”

“Do you know why I’m here?” Jasha wanted to know how much she knew about the reason for his sudden loss of freedom or if she did not know what he was doing here.

“Yes, I do.” Her face became clouded with sadness. “I know you’re very upset. Mr. Bronson will make this time with you wonderful, especially during Christmas. Right now, Mr. Bronson might seem tough and cold, but I think once you get to know him, you’ll fall in love.”

“In love with him?” Jasha thought he was extremely handsome and very sexy. He wasn’t so sure he understood his occupation and the mistreatment of his father. He’d practically kidnapped him, but Jasha had agreed. He believed he would have shot his father, whether he still would remained to be seen. He’d like to find out why his father needed such a large amount of money. Mr. Bronson must have added an enormous amount of interest to the original loan or loans. He’d have to find this information somewhere.

“I call it Christmas magic.”

“Miss Nadia,” Jasha began, “you’ve known Mr. Bronson since he was a baby, right?”

Miss Nadia paused, a warm-hearted smile spreading across her face. “Yes, I have. I started working for the Bronson family before he was born.”

“What was he like back then?” Jasha’s curiosity was piqued.

Miss Nadia chuckled softly. “Oh, he was a spirited child, always full of energy and mischief. But he had a good heart. I remember one winter night he found a stray kitten shivering in the cold. He brought it home, despite knowing his parents wouldn’t approve. He begged me to help him hide it and care for it. We kept that kitten in the servants’ quarters until we found it a proper home.”

Jasha smiled at the story. “So, he loves animals?”

“Yes, he does, so I wasn’t surprised he allowed you to bring Daisy with you,” Miss Nadia stated, her eyes distant with memories. “Even as he grew older, he never lost his kindness to animals and those in need. He always treated the staff with respect, never looking down on us. When his parents passed away, he made sure we were all taken care of. He has a generous soul, that one.”

Jasha nodded, feeling a deeper appreciation for Mr. Bronson. “It’s clear he loves you a lot, Miss Nadia, and he seems like he’s good friends with Adam.”

Miss Nadia’s smile widened. “And I him. It’s been a privilege to watch him grow into the man he is today.”

The conversation lingered in Jasha’s mind long after she left the room. Is she blind to who he is today and how he earns his money?

As he prepared for ice skating, he picked out his red sweater and grabbed his trusty leather jacket for added warmth. He didn’t know what to make of Mr. Bronson buying him a new pair of skates. The gesture left him puzzled and uncertain. In the back of his mind, he still believed Mr. Bronson would ask him to make up for the loss of the money his father owed. He opened the door, and Daisy followed him down the stairs then she was off on an adventure without him.

Mr. Bronson stood at the front door in his jacket and jeans. He smiled at Jasha when he met him in the foyer. He handed him a pair of black skates. They were shiny and the perfect size.

“Where are your gloves?” His brows furrowed with worry as he looked at him.

“I must have forgotten them.” Jasha saw how worried he looked, as if the man had completely forgotten he had given him ten minutes to gather all his belongings.

As Mr. Bronson handed him his own expensive leather gloves, Jasha inhaled the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the fabric. “You don’t have to give me your gloves.”

“I have others.” He pulled another pair of gloves out of a jacket hanging on a hook in the foyer.

Miss Nadia showed up with a red scarf for Jasha.

“This is so Mr. Bronson doesn’t lose you on the ice, plus it’s freezing out there.”

“Thank you.”

They left the house and walked along the shoveled path. Jasha tugged at the scarf Miss Nadia had given him, his breath fogging in the crisp Lake Tahoe air. The lake had turned into a vast shimmering ice sheet, stretched out before him, a playground of endless possibilities. Mr. Bronson, bundled in layers, stood beside him, a look of mild apprehension etched on his face.

“Ready?” Mr. Bronson asked, his voice muffled by his scarf.

Jasha grinned. “Absolutely.”

He tightened his scarf as he stepped onto the ice, his body gliding smoothly as if born to the surface. The familiar sensation of weightlessness washed over him, and he felt invisible to his sadness. Mr. Bronson followed, his movements tentative and ungainly. Jasha wondered when the last time he had gone skating had been.

“Are you sure about this, Jasha?” Mr. Bronson asked, his voice tinged with doubt. “I didn’t know you could skate that well.”

Jasha laughed, gliding effortlessly across the ice. “I love it here. I’ve never been to California before. And skating is one of my favorite things to do. It’s like flying, but on ice.”

Mr. Bronson watched in amazement as Jasha picked up speed, his movements fluid and graceful. “Jasha, you’re incredible!” Mr. Bronson said, clapping his hands together. “I had no idea you were this good.” He said, shaking his head with a smile.

Jasha skated back to him. “Thanks! It’s just something I really enjoy. Lake Tahoe makes it even more special.”

They continued to skate together, Mr. Bronson’s initial hesitation melting away as he followed Jasha’s lead. The two of them laughed and talked, the bond between them growing stronger with each glide across the ice.

As they skated, Jasha couldn’t contain his enthusiasm. Lake Tahoe in winter was the absolute perfect spot for him during his confinement. This place could help him escape the world and lose himself in the rhythm of the ice. The mountains, cloaked in snow, provided a breathtaking backdrop to their skating adventure.

Jasha’s heart swelled with pride. He showed Mr. Bronson some of his favorite moves. He executed a perfect spin, the world blurring around him, then transitioned into a series of intricate footwork patterns. Each move was a testament to his love for the sport and the countless hours he had spent perfecting his technique. His father had taken him to the rink at Rockefeller Center often. One of his cherished winter traditions was skating with his father. This year, they wouldn’t be lacing up their skates or exchanging gifts around the Christmas tree. The tightness in his stomach intensified as waves of homesickness washed over him.

Jasha skated back to Mr. Bronson. “I really enjoy skating. And I love it here,” Jasha said, his voice filled with wonder. “The air, the mountains, the lake…it’s perfect.”

Mr. Bronson nodded, but his gaze was fixed on the stunning scenery. “It is pretty special here and sharing it with you is too.”

“Thank you for taking me skating.”

For Jasha, this moment was perfect. He felt a deep sense of contentment, knowing he could share his passion with someone who appreciated it. The beauty of Lake Tahoe, the joy of skating, and the unfamiliar warmth of Mr. Bronson’s company made this day one he would always cherish.