Page 95 of Taken By My Grumpy Pakhan

Eventually, and much to my relief, the deal was signed and we were set to leave.

However, halfway to the car, my phone beeped, reminding me of the next meeting with Karl and Karl.

It was almost four in the evening and I was yet to catch a break. Word had gotten out on the new launch and everyone wanted a share of the cookie.

Kazimir had said he was done meeting the investors who mattered and everyone else was fighting for a piece, which equalled hours of listening to powerful men who made waves in their different industries grovel in the most diplomatic manner while Kazimir wore a mask of boredom.

“This way,” Kazimir said as we crossed the lobby, his hand brushing my elbow to steer me away from the bank of regular elevators and toward the discreet private one tucked behind a wall of frosted glass.

I stopped walking before I’d consciously decided to. “I can take the normal elevator.”

“It’s faster this way.” He didn’t slow down, didn’t look back to see if I’d follow, just kept walking with that effortless certainty that everyone around him would eventually fall in line.

Nikolai, trailing slightly behind us with his phone in hand, gave me a glance that might have been sympathy or might have been amusement. With Nikolai, it was usually difficult to tell the difference.

“You’ll be at least ten minutes late with a line that long.”

I glanced at the queue that had formed around the elevator, and ten minutes would mean I got ahead of some people.

I reluctantly followed because the alternative was standing alone in the lobby looking ridiculous.

The doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped inside behind Kazimir, very aware that this was the same elevator, the same panel of buttons, the same mirrored walls that had reflected back a version of myself I barely recognized the night everything started.

I hadn’t been in here since. I’d avoided it deliberately, taking the long way around through the regular bank even when it cost me extra minutes, because some superstitious part of me believed that staying out of this particular box meant staying out of whatever gravitational pull existed between us inside it.

Apparently, that strategy had an expiration date.

Nikolai stepped in last, the doors closing behind him, and for a moment the three of us stood there in silence while the elevator began its climb.

I kept my eyes fixed on the numbers ticking upward, refusing to look at either of the mirrored walls, refusing to let myself catalog the way Kazimir’s shoulder sat barely six inches from mine in a space that suddenly felt smaller than it had any right to be.

All I had to do was hold on for a couple of minutes and possibly not breathe to keep his scent from assaulting my senses, and I’d be just fine.

The universe had other plans because the elevator slowed at the seventh floor. Nikolai checked his phone, frowned slightly, and stepped toward the opening doors.

“I need to handle something,” he said, already halfway into the hallway. “I’ll catch up.”

As I watched the door slide closed in pure mortification, I couldn’t tell if he had done it on purpose or if he did indeed have something to deal with.

I kept my eyes glued to the wall, focusing on the soft hum of the elevator climbing toward the executive floor, and counting the number of floors in between.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kazimir said, breaking the silence.

“You took the long way to the conference room this morning. Twice. Sat at the far end of every table and barely replied to my texts.”

“I replied to the important ones and I’ve been really busy,” I lied through my teeth. “None of it was intentional.”

“Delivering my coffee through Caroline?”

“I had to use the restroom and I figured you wouldn’t appreciate the delay.”

“I could hear your laughter in the hallway with the others.”

I had no good response to that, mostly because he had caught me in a lie.

“Fine,” I said. “Maybe I have been avoiding you a little. Is that a crime now?”

“No. But I’d like to know why.” He turned slightly, enough that I could feel the weight of his attention even without looking directly at him. “We already spoke about Moscow.”