Oh, these bitches!My face must've shown something because my sister and cousin were suddenly beside me.
“You good, suga?” Ev asked, her pretty face twisted into something not at all friendly.
I nodded. “Great.”
Then, I smiled, but it wasn't amused.
“I’m sorry. You must be confused,” I said sweetly. “First, my husband comes from two worlds, one of which looks a lot like me. Second, if you’re trying to imply he wanted you and got stuck with me instead, you should’ve just said that. We blackgirls appreciate direct communication. That way, I could've let you know; Targen is right where he wants to be.”
The brunette gasped like she was offended by what I said.
Ekaterina’s face went paler. “You misunderstand me.”
Epiphany laughed quietly. “Nah, if there's one thing my sister understands, it's words. She lives by them. Stand on what you said, Blondie. Don't throw a rock and hide your hand.”
“Perhaps I worded that awkwardly,” Ekaterina murmured.
For a second, we just stood there smiling at each other like two well-dressed enemies in some mafia rom-com. Then she gave one little shrug.
“Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Sidorov.”
“Oh, I plan to,” I replied, just as catty as she was.
But I didn’t, not after that. Thing is, I didn't really believe Targen was some unwilling man dragged to the altar out of obligation and because he was ordered to. My heart knew better than that. But my head… Ekaterina had done what she meant to do. She had taken that little seed of doubt I already carried and watered it. And God, it was blooming all through me. Had he really planned with her? Did I interrupt something? It wasn't like he'd known he was going to run into me in Louisiana last year. Maybe he'd thought he'd have a little fling and come back to Ekaterina, to his other world, the more dominant one. But then me and my issues had gotten him caught up. Is that why he hugged her like that, smiled at her like that? Did he still want that little Elsa-look-alike? If so, he was the one who could let it go, let it go, cuz I'll be damned!
By the time Targen came back to my side, I was quieter. He noticed immediately.
“Everything good?” he asked.
“Perfect.”
That made his eyes narrow, but before he could say anything else, another man approached. He was tall and dark-hairedwith a smile that probably made weak women hand over phone numbers, common sense, and panties regularly.
“May I?” he asked, bowing slightly. “Nikolai Sokolov.”
His accent was Russian, but lighter than some of the others. His tux was perfect. His smile was dangerous, but charming. He was the kind of man you knew was trouble… but you might let buy you a drink anyway.
Before Targen could answer for me, I said, “I’m Theory Miller.”
I didn't say Mrs. Sidorov, Just Theory Miller. Something changed in Targen’s face. That should've been enough of a warning to me. But I was in a mood. He should've put a leash on his past pets.
Nikolai extended his hand. “Would ‘Theory’ honor me with a dance?”
I should’ve said no.
Instead, I thought of Ekaterina’s words and Targen’s smile, his arms holding her. I might let him explain later. But for now, something hurt rose up in me.
I smiled at Nikolai. “I’d love to.”
Targen looked at me. I looked right back. Then I placed my hand in Nikolai’s and let him lead me onto the dance floor.
The song was soft, low, intimate. Nikolai was a good dancer, too. He led easily while talking to me, exuding just enough charm to feel flattering. He talked in a way some slick-ass men had, where every compliment felt genuine. He was definitely attractive… and I felt nothing for him.
“You are quieter than I expected,” he said after a minute.
I laughed. “Damn, I look loud?”
“No. I just meant I could see the fire in your face, but your voice is all honey.”
