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Boris sits back in his chair, one arm draped over the back, allowing her to sit there. The ache in my chest sharpens into a jagged knife, slicing me open. I grip my coffee cup until my knuckles bleed white.
So this is how it's going to be. I set my jaw, squaring my shoulders. If Boris wants a show, I'll give him one. I saunter over to his desk, hips swaying, and place a hand on his shoulder.
"Morning, Boris." I saw sweetly, smiling at the shock on the secretary's face. "Did you sleep well after your 'emergency' last night?"
Suzannah’s eyes narrow, but I hold her gaze, daring her to challenge me, Boris’s wife.
“I slept fine,” Boris nods. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he removes my hand from his shoulder and loosens his neck, “I have work to do. Robin, can you bring me the updated list of addresses for our investors?”
The knife twists in my chest at his coldness. I see a small smile of contempt spread across Suzannah’s face as humiliation grips me. But I refuse to break. Not here. Not in front of her.
“Of course, darling,” I smile sweetly. I see a look of confusion cross Boris’s face at my term of endearment.
Instead of feeling embarrassed, I hold my ground and walk away confidently. Boris Zolotov holds no power over me. And as for Suzannah, she’ll learn her place soon enough.
Or at least, I hope.
***
After lunch that afternoon, Anoushka bursts through the elevator in a flurry of movement, already chattering away. She stops by my desk and places an herbal tea on it.
“Robin, sweetheart,” she gushes as I stand, pulling me into a huge hug. “How have you been? How’s the baby doing?” she asks excitedly.
I jut out my tummy and she smiles, all teeth, as she places a warm hand over my dress.
"Baby’s kicking up a storm in there," I chuckle, grateful for Anoushka's infectious energy, which always manages to brighten my day.
“The baby’s a Zolotov and a Freeman, I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
I smile at her warm compliment. “So, what brings you here?” I inquire. Anoushka usually doesn’t come to the office unless her brothers really need her for something specific.
“Damien left some files at home,” she explains. “I came to drop them off and thought I would also check in with my favorite sister-in-law!”
“You came to say hi to me?” I ask, touched.
“Of course I did,” she gushes. “I think of you all the time. Sometimes, I tell Boris he should let you move in with me, at least while you’re pregnant. It’s a difficult time in a woman’s life with all these changes, and I figure some girl time could help. But no, he insists you need your space, and in his words,” she puts air quotes, “I’m imposing.”
Suddenly, tears spring to my eyes. Anoushka notices, and her eyes widen with panic. “Robin!” she exclaims, her hands reaching for my shoulders gently. “Whatever is the matter?”
“It’s just,” I sob now, touched by her generosity. “You’re so kind, Anoushka. You wanted to give me a room in your home? Boris never told me.”
“A room in my home?” Anoushka tries to suppress a laugh. “My darling, you’re my sister. My home is your home!”
At this, I bawl. It’s just that I have been so lonely, navigating this pregnancy alone, that Anoushka’s kindness humbles me.
"Robiiiin,” Anoushka sings, now chuckling openly. “I believe you might be having a mood swing.”
“I… I am?” I sob.
She raises an eyebrow, a broad smile on her face. “Oh, you most certainly are. After this, there’s no way I’m allowing you to sit here at work feeling all sorry. We need a happy, laughing mama for our little Zolotov! So, we’re going out!”
Without waiting for me to respond, she grabs my hand and picks up my phone. “Now, where’s your bag?”
I point at it, confused. She dumps my phone in my bag and grabs it. Next thing I know, we’re in Boris’s office.
She stops short at the sight of the secretary leaning inappropriately over Boris's desk, realizing with dawning horror that she's interrupted something strange. The secretary smirks at me, triumph gleaming in her eyes. I grit my teeth against the urge to wipe that smug look off her face.
Anoushka's gaze flicks between us, taking in the tension that is thick enough to cut with a knife. Her eyes narrow, and she sets her jaw in a way that is reminiscent of Boris. Family, indeed.
