Maybe I could swoop in once a month, clean up the occasional corporate mess, and swoop out. That idea comes to a screeching halt when Alexei suggests I actually call on some of Voyanovski’s larger clients and introduce myself. “No way.” He gestures at the piles of paperwork I’ve already gone through, the myriad minor problems I’ve already solved in just over a week. “But, Miki . . . you are the very good one at it.” He’s been brushing up on his English with me, and I smile at his funny grammar. “That’s different. That’s just numbers. And paper. I get numbers. I don’t get people.” He shakes his head. “That is not true. Look at you. You’re lovely.” “Oh my god.” I burst out laughing, then almost start crying. “You are so sexist you don’t even know you’re being sexist! What does being lovely have to do with the net present value of the financing you think we can get from Kriegsbeil?
