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“That’s the one,” Josh agreed. “Easy. Are you right for cufflinks, a bow tie, white shirt and shoes?”
The Russian nodded. “Got all that. Thanks for the help, I’ll get it off.”
“You could leave it on while you have coffee,” I suggested.
The Russian shook his head. “Brooker, you’ll just have to wait to see it again.”
I gave him a disappointed look and he disappeared behind the door to change.
“You two are going to be beautiful together,” Josh said, turning from the closed door to look at me.
“Wait until you see my dress,” I said, “seriously, Sasha has made it for my figure, I never thought I could look that good,” I lowered my voice.
“I never doubted it,” Josh said. I squeezed him arm.
The Russian came out a few minutes later in his jeans and t-shirt again, carrying the three suits. He thanked Josh again, grabbed his coffee and remained standing while he sipped it.
“Better get going,” he said.
I looked from him to my bedroom and back to him again. At least I could dream tonight about him being in there, half undressed.
But an hour later I found out that the idea of sleep was just a fantasy. I didn’t get one wink – I imagined opening the front door to The Russian, kissing those lips, stripping off his tux and making slow love to a man who confessed to not moving too quickly. I kept cautioning myself – I was not his type, especially after his Hollywood blonde girlfriend; it was just a friendship.
But it was too late. I was a goner and I had set myself up for heartbreak, I just knew it.
