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“Um, yes.” It is indeed a very considerate act, which doesn’t help the closure I’m after.

“It smells delicious,” she says. “What is it?”

I take out the dish and remove the lid. It looks like lasagna. Unable to resist the scrumptious aroma, I dip the fork inside and cut off a small corner. Portobello mushrooms and sweet peppers are layered between the pasta, topped with a bechamel sauce and melted cheese.

“Wow,” Rose says again.

“Wow,” I agree.

Giving my lunch an envious look, Rose takes a sandwich from her tote bag and unwraps it. “Are you sure it was a one-night stand?”

“Yes,” I say a little too quickly and motion at the dish. “This is a huge portion. Do you want to share?”

“Oh, no.” She waves a hand. “He wanted you to eat it. You go on. Tell me what it tastes like.”

I bring the bite to my mouth and inhale the mouth-watering aroma once more before slipping the fork between my lips. Oh, yum. This is so tasty. Marusya is an excellent cook. My own peanut butter sandwich is forgotten as I dig into the treat of the warm meal. I only had a banana and a cup of herbal tea for breakfast, and I am truly starving.

Rose finishes her sandwich in a few big bites and dusts her hands as she gets to her feet. “I’ve got to run. I promised June I’d check on a patient before two.” She lifts her gaze to the clock. “Damn. Forget about running. I’ll have to sprint.” Gathering her napkin and empty wrapper, she adds with a wink, “Enjoy your lunch.”

I do. I savor every bite, washing it down with the lemon-and-mint-infused water. When I’m done, I rinse the plastic dish and cutlery in the sink and put everything back into the bag.

It’s not until the end of my shift that I think about the kind gesture again. A few other nurses are changing out of their scrubs. After dressing and pulling on my warm jacket, I drop the plastic dish in my locker into the cooler bag and take it with me, undecided as to how to return it. If I go to Alex’s house, my willpower may evaporate. The man has way too strong of an effect on me. Maybe I’ll just send the bag back with a courier.

Outside the building, my step slows. The black car is parked at the curb, with Yuri leaning on it. He straightens when he sees me.

At least this solves how I’ll return Alex’s dishes.

I resume walking, albeit with hesitation. “What are you doing here?” I ask when I’m within earshot.

He opens the back door. “Mr. Volkov sent me. I’m your ride.”

“That’s very kind, but I can make my own way.” I hold out the cooler bag. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you could return this to Marusya and thank her for me for the lunch.”

He takes the bag, offering me a tight smile. “Sure, but I can’t not take you home. Mr. Volkov was very clear on the matter.”

A car honks behind us. The driver hangs from his open window. “Hey, this is a drop-off zone. Are you leaving or staying?”

“Come on,” Yuri says, attempting a broader smile, and I get the impression the gesture doesn’t come easily for him. “Just get in. Mr. Volkov will be upset if I don’t do my job.”

After another bout of honking, I get in with a mumbled, “Thank you.”

The interior is warm. Yuri must’ve left the heater running. I wrap my jacket tighter around myself and settle back into the seat. I might as well enjoy the comfort of the ride, seeing that this will be the last ride Alex offers me.

Yuri gets behind the wheel and takes an envelope and a box from the glove compartment. He hands both to me. “Your bank cards and a new phone.”

“My cards? Wait, what? A new phone?”

“Mr. Volkov had them replaced. The new security pins for your cards are in the envelope too.”

I stare at the box of the latest iPhone in my hands. “I can’t—”

“Mr. Volkov said I’m not allowed to take no for an answer.” With that, he faces back to the front and starts the engine, indicating the subject is closed for discussion.

Letting Alex replace my phone and cards isn’t ideal, but it does save me a lot of hassle, not to mention time. I suppose it’s part of the perks of being a billionaire. Not that I expected him to do this for me.

“I was going to go past the bank and police station during my break tomorrow afternoon, but thanks,” I say.

Yuri glances at me in the rearview mirror as he steers us into traffic. “The police station is taken care of. You don’t need to go there.”

“What about my statement? Don’t they need it?”

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