I turned around and was almost at the door when I stopped in my tracks. “Oh, and, uh…you’re not useless.”
I let the words sink in for a beat before picking up my pace and leaving.
Chapter 21 – Ellie
I was lying down on the couch that afternoon, lost in the pages of a novel, when I heard a knock on my door.
“It’s open.”
A set of familiar footsteps strolled into the room, accompanied by a low melodic hum.
I covered the book and sat up, brows arched in disbelief. Something seemed different about Agata today, in a really good way. She looked more relaxed, happier even.
“Okay…” I drawled lazily, a small grin playing on my lips. “Someone’s glowing today. What’s going on?”
She halted in front of me, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “What are you talking about, ma’am?” Her cheeks flushed, her voice laced with her Russian accent.
I rose to my feet, retaining my smile. “You know damn straight what I’m talking about.” A quiet chuckle fell from my mouth.
In the fleeting silence that followed, I noticed that her lips were glossed. Nothing bold or pronounced. But enough to enhance her looks. For some reason, the same black-and-white she always wore now looked like a designer dress. Or was it just my eyes?
“You look beautiful,” I said to her, my gaze unwavering.
She glanced down, cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Does this glow-up have anything to do with Sergei?” I leaned in, whispering.
“Not really.” She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, her head slightly bowed. “I just woke up on the right side of the bed, I guess.”
“Hmm.” I stared at her for a moment. “Well, I like this version of you. So, keep waking up on the right side of the bed every morning.”
She met my gaze, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a small smile on her face.
“I haven’t spoken with my husband about that stuff yet,” I began. “But the fact that you’re both still here means he doesn’t plan on firing you guys.”
Silence.
Her grin gradually turned playful as she stared at me in a way that aroused my suspicion.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just that you called him your husband.”
That’s when it hit me. She wasn’t wrong. I actually referred to him as that. But why? Why did I do that?
“It slipped out. Don’t make it weird.” I shrugged, hiding my embarrassment behind a straight face. “Besides, it’s a lot easier than saying‘my kidnapper.’”
She held my gaze with a slightly broader smile, like I’d somehow implicated myself.
“Didn’t I say not to make this weird?” My brows furrowed, accentuating the faint scowl on my face.
“Sorry.” She chuckled.
“Why are you here anyway?” I dropped myself back onto the couch.
“Your husband wants to see you,” she answered.
I let out a quiet exhale after my heart skipped a beat. “Now?”
