As she disappears, plunking Salome on my lap, Inessa turns to me. “So, Maxim?”
“Did you want a nap or just to get me alone?”
Inessa smiles. “I’ll always take a nap.”
I harrumph. “What, Nessie?”
“I wanted to make sure he’s treating you right.”
“You and everyone else. How do you even know we’re dating?”
“Don’t ask.”
“That makes me want to ask.”
“Well, I can’t say. Heistreating you right, isn’t he, Vicky?”
Because their questions come from a place of love, I answer, “He is.”
“You’re happy?”
“I am.”
“Good.” She presses a kiss to my cheek. “Don’t be afraid to ask for whatever you want. If he’s the right man for you, then your happiness is all that matters to him.”
Touched by the advice, I reach for her hand. “Thanks, sis.”
“Don’t have to thank me.” A gleam pops into her eye. “Knowing your worth has never been a problem for you, Vicky.”
Though I huff, I know she’s only messing.
“What’s with the dog anyway?”
“He bought me a house. Houses need dogs.”
Her gaze softens. “You always wanted a pet.”
“Father would never let me have one. Maxim will.”
“You asked?”
I snort. “Of course not.”
Twenty minutes later, armed with two iced lattes and a dog that’s taking a snooze in my purse, Camille ushers me into her walk-in closet/dressing room while Inessa goes off for a nap.
“So, what were you thinking for your hair? Updo? Chignon? Fussy? Simple? Elegant? Down?”
“I should have gone to a salon,” I bemoan.
“Hey! I do my hair for the events we have to attend. You know I hate people fussing around me.”
“True. I just…” Sheepishly, I mumble, “…want everything to be perfect.”
Tightness appears in her smile. “He’s truly treating you right, isn’t he?” Ugh, for god’s sake! “Courting you how you deserve?”
“You sound so old,” I grouse.
“Forgive me for approaching thirty.”
