Page 4 of The Promise

They stood at the elevator doors until they spread apart with a loud ding. It was clear by the size and available space that it wasn’t made for more than a couple people at a time.

“Which floor, Mr. Avdonin? I’ll take the next one,” Masha said, making her voice heard before they entered.

“Fiftieth,” Roman replied without a glance over his shoulder. “It’ll open right to it.”

Just as fast, he placed a hand to Karine’s lower back and urged her inside with the pressure of his palm. The doors slid shut behind them, and she caught sight of a quiet Masha before they closed. Alone with him in the confines of the elevator, she clutched her stomach, the wave of claustrophobia starting the second the floor seemed to jump under her feet.

Maybe then would have been a good time to point out to him how she didn’t enjoy closed spaces. Her anxiety went through the roof, forcing her to ramble or babble nonsense for nothing more than the distraction it provided.

She said the first thing to come to her mind, but she wouldn’t pretend like the thoughts hadn’t been bothering her for a while. “You said you had no choice—so you didn’t want to take me with you? Is that what you meant?”

The elevator lifted faster than she expected it to. She was able to watch the numbers change on the digital screen over the doors rapidly while the pressure and speed vibrated underneath her feet.

Roman didn’t look at her, not even once, keeping his hand firmly stuffed in the pocket of his pants while his other held tight to her bag. Instead of answering her question, he simply asked, “You talk a lot when you’re nervous or scared, huh?”

Karine chewed on the inside of her lower lip, muttering only, “Sorry—I can’t stop it.”

“That’s okay. Didn’t say it was a bad thing, did I?”

Wasn’t it?

Before she could mull the question—or his words—over, the doors slid open again and welcomed them into what appeared to be another lobby. Only much smaller, with one entire side of the space being dedicated for floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the buildings across the block, and the street below. They passed leather bucket chairs placed on either side of a electric fireplace on the way to the door at the other end of the small corridor.

“The whole floor on this side of the building is the apartment,” he said, making Karine realize he was paying more attention to her than she thought.

How much did a place like this cost?

“It seems—”

“Modern,” he filled in when her words stopped forming altogether. “And the deed to this side of the floor was a gift to me from a family friend involved in the development when I ...” For a moment, his gaze slid to her as he seemed to consider the words he wanted to say. Then all at once, he just decided to apparently say them when he shrugged and said, “They gave it to me as a gift when I joined the family business. Some people tried to make a game out of it—who could get the best gift. Got three cars out of that, too, so hey. Not too bad.”

Karine blinked, unsure of how to respond. Roman seemed to enjoy her stunned silence, the grin stretching across his lips making her heart race a little faster. It screamed wicked—all sorts of fun. It didn’t seem like the time, but he could probably make her willing without even trying. And she liked it.

Roman pulled a keycard from his wallet, and slid it through the electronic lock at the end of the small entry. The door unlocked and opened on its own as he nodded a head toward the dimly lit space that greeted them. His voice was kinder than she expected when he said, “You should have a look around, make yourself at home. Might be here for a while, right?”

She stared at him, considering that—would it be such a bad thing?

Instead of waiting for her mind to come up with its own answer, Karine pushed open the door and stepped inside the apartment. Roman made his way in behind her, reaching beyond her shoulders to flick on a row of switches that lit up the open-concept floor of space to her view. Black marble pressed into the soles of her shoes while high, vaulted white ceilings waited overhead. She could see through the main floor of the space to where a long, glass dining table welcomed guests into a kitchen full of stainless steel, white marble countertops, and more black brick.

Roman remained at the door while she took slow steps further beyond black marble pillars to see the living space and entertainment section overlooking more floor-to-ceiling windows, but these were different than the ones in the entry. Curved outward in a domed shape. The life and buzz of an unknown—but strangely beautiful—city stretched out in front of her.

This high, it was like she was floating in the air above it.

“You still didn’t answer my question, Roman,” she said, enjoying the view but knowing he’d left something unsaid. Karine didn’t like that. Turning away from the windows, and forcing her stare up from the shiny black marble under her feet to meet his gaze, she couldn’t allow herself to get carried away. Not in anything. Not even in him until she had an answer. “You didn’t want to take me with you, did you? You were forced to.”

If he was shocked at what she asked, Roman didn’t show it. Lucky for him that he didn’t have to answer her question, either, because the approaching footsteps from the entry they had just come from had Roman turning away.

Masha didn’t seem at all aware that she had interrupted them. Karine hated to admit that she was relieved at the sight of her—she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear what Roman’s response would be.

She had a habit of doing that. Asking, but not wanting to know.

Karine was fine to let Roman busy himself with showing Masha where things were and disappearing with her down a back hallway where he said one of three bedrooms and the main bathroom could be found.

She remained standing where she was—quiet by the glass wall where she could see the hustle of a city. Where she really didn’t have to think.

Of course, she still did.

Overthinking.