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He has no idea. What do I have to do to get Alex out of my life? Maybe I should just sleep with him until he gets me out of his system. But no. That voice of self-preservation holds me back. He may fuck me out of his system, but he’ll only get deeper under my skin.
“You’re serious?” I scrutinize Yuri’s face. “He won’t pay you if I don’t let you drive me?”
He doesn’t so much as blink. “No work, no pay.”
“Fine,” I say with annoyance. “Until I’ve sorted this out with Alex, I’ll take a ride to work and home, but that’s it. When I’m free, I’m on my own.”
“You’ll have to take that up with—”
“Yes, I know,” I say, seething. “With Mr. Volkov.”
“Exactly.” Yuri’s flat smile says he’s happy that I finally got it through my thick skull.
I exhale through my nose. Inhale the good, exhale the bad. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”
“Good,” he says, as if talking to a child. “Now go inside. I’m supposed to wait until you’ve locked the door behind you.”
I all but slam the door in his face—not that it’s his fault I’m angry. The reason for my irritability is the man who won’t take no for an answer. What will it take? A restraining order?
Even as I think it, I can’t imagine doing that to Alex. It’s not as if he’s stalking me. He’s just not used to being told no. I bet panties drop at the flick of his fingers.
Dumping everything on the kitchen table, I call my mom to see how she’s doing while I put the lilies in water. The flowers are too stunning to let them shrivel and die.
My mom sounds only a little better, but when I propose to come over and cook for us, she profusely declines.
“Why?” I ask, carrying the vase to the living area and placing it on the bookshelf under the window where the flowers will get the best natural light. “Don’t you want to see me?”
“Of course I do, honey.” She clears her throat. “It’s just that I’m expecting company.”
I still. “Mom.”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve just broken up with Martin.”
“So? Ludwick is a bodybuilder. Apparently, he’s very good at massage.”
“Okay, that’s more information than I wanted to know.”
“Do you think I should wear the black negligee or the red one? The black is more flattering for my figure, but it makes me look paler. The red goes better with my skin tone.”
“I doubt Ludwick is going to notice the color when he sees you in a negligee,” I say with a smile.
“Got to go. Have to make my face pretty.”
“Do you want me to come over and wash your hair? I can be there in an hour.”
“I had Patricia come out today. She gave me a haircut and a blow-dry. I needed it after all that sun and sea water. My hair felt like grass.”
“Fine,” I concede with a sigh. “Just promise you’ll call if you need me.”
“Oh, honey. I’m the one who’s supposed to be the parent, not you. I’m so sorry for doing this to you.”
I look away from the beautiful flowers. “You are the parent, Mom. You’ve always been. I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”
“You’re the best, you know that?”
“Go on. Have fun. But tell Ludwick to be gentle.”
“Gentle sex isn’t what I had in mind.”
“Mom! I was talking about the massage.”
“Oh, yes. Well, whatever.”
I can only shake my head as I hang up, both happy for and concerned about my mom.
The box on the kitchen table catches my attention. Going over, I wiggle the lid loose, expecting dinner or more flowers, but the most delicate white-and-pink chocolates, each in a mini paper cup, sit in the box.
Flowers, hearts, and chocolates. Alex wasn’t joking. He really did look up romance on Google. The tokens are clichés at best, and since their intention is manipulating me back into his bed, I’m more determined than ever not to let him win.
I won’t give in. Not again. Once—make that twice—was a big enough mistake. I’m not willing to repeat the error.
Which is why, when I receive a text message much later from my mom, saying that Phillip wants to meet me for drinks on Friday, I say yes.
15
It would be too weird to let Yuri drive me to my Friday night date, so when he drops me off at home after work, I tell him to have a good weekend. He mumbles something in return, waits until I’ve locked myself in, and leaves.
I’ve been sending Alex text messages all week, asking him to stop sending Yuri to drive me to work and home, but I haven’t heard a single word back. He hasn’t called or tried to make contact again, but the gifts—chocolates, fluffy bears, and healthy meals—arrive like clockwork at my doorstep. I have no idea how to make him quit. The worst is that I can’t stop thinking about him. As long as he keeps peppering me with reminders, I can’t get him out of my head.
