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Harmony gasps. “Shut up. Are you kidding? Shut up!”
The last vestiges of my dream desire are still pulsing in my core. When I close my eyes, I almost think I can smell Kirill’s cologne. “I’m definitely not kidding. It all happened just like that.”
“I have ten minutes before I have to get to work. Tell me everything.”
Quickly, I unravel the night, telling Harmony everything from the way Viktoria spoke to me—
“That bitch!” she interjects.
To the way Stefano’s guard whispered threats in my ear—
“You need to call and report that to the police, Ray. Seriously. That’s terrifying.”
By the time I get to the final moments Kirill and I spent together in the doorway of the guesthouse, Harmony is screaming.
“He did not say that!” she shrieks. Her voice lowers dramatically, “‘Only if you ask nicely.’Oh my God! That’s so hot. Did you ask nicely?”
I’m smiling, but it slips away as I remember how quickly Kirill did the same. “We were interrupted. He left before anything else could happen.”
She curses. “Did you get his number?”
“No. I know his name, but that’s it.” The disappointment is palpable, both hers and mine. Last night, I would have tried to talk myself out of feeling this way. But it’s early and my emotional shields aren’t fully functioning yet. I have to admit that I wish Kirill had stayed.
I wish he’d said goodbye, at least.
“And now, I’ll probably never see him again.”
“Don’t say that,” Harmony scolds. “I mean, I met Tomas at a random nightclub in Milan, made out with him, and then didn’t get his number. I was dying with regret. But two nights later, I saw him again. And now, we’re married.”
“A love story for the ages,” I tease.
She laughs. “You know what I mean! Stranger things have happened. Don’t give up hope.”
The idea that I have hopes about Kirill is a bit too earnest for my liking. I can feel my shields flickering to life. “It doesn’t matter. I have a new job to worry about. And I’ve hardly seen Lana and Mitchell since I moved in with them.”
“All the better,” Harmony mumbles.
“Har!”
“Sorry. Sorry. I just don’t like the way they treat you. You need to get your own place.”
“I thought you wanted me to move to Italy with you?”
“I do! But I’m also a realist. I know you’d never venture too far away from Lily and Brady. And those kids need a cool aunt in their lives. Especially since their parents are judgmental snobs who—”
“Who are letting me live in their guesthouse on the cheap and are still my family, no matter their flaws,” I finish.
“Okay. You’re right,” she backpedals. “I’m sorry. I need to go anyway. And so do you! Don’t want to be late on your first day.”
I check the time. “Considering you called in the middle of the night and I don’t have to be there for another two-and-a-half hours, I don’t think there’s any chance of that.”
“You’re welcome,” Harmony croons with no shame at all. “Cock-a-doodle-doo-do! Have a good first day!”
I thank her and hang up with a smile on my face. I should be pissed at her for interrupting my sleep, but I always feel better after we talk. Even if she did abandon me for her Italian lover.
I lie back in bed, but falling back to sleep is hopeless. As if first day jitters weren’t enough, my dream of Kirill clings to me like a wet shirt. The same way his wet shirt clung to him last night.
With a groan and some more poorly repressed thoughts of what his chiseled abdomen must look like, I finally roll over and head to the bathroom.
