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“It’s nothing.” I rip my hand away from him and step back. “The two of you deserve each other.”
I can hear Viktoria talking up a storm as I walk away, but I no longer care what she has to say. Dessert has been served. The tables are being cleared. I’ve done my job and I’m free, and I’ll never see any of these people again.
I’m nearly in the kitchen when a dark suit steps in front of me.
I almost don’t stop in time. A large hand reaches out to steady my shoulder and keep us from colliding. “I’m sorry, Miss. I called to you a couple times, but you didn’t hear me. You seemed pretty focused on fleeing the scene.”
The male voice is not wrong. In fact, I’m still staring at the kitchen door like it’s the finish line and I’m racing for Olympic gold. I have to force my eyes up to the man in front of me.
He’s right about my height, with carefully tailored auburn scruff shot through with silver and murky gray eyes. His fingers gleam with half-a-dozen rings, and the veneers in his smile are blindingly white.
I blink. “I’m sorry, I—Can I help you with something?”
He takes his hand off of me slowly like he’s trying not to spook me. “Can I helpyouwith something?” he replies.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I saw the scene over there. With Zaitsev.”
“You know him?” I grimace. Just what I need—more of Kirill’s friends. As if the ones I’ve already met haven’t been horrible enough.
“Everyone here does,” he answers. “Do you?”
“Not before tonight.”
“I’m surprised. Kirill usually knows all the beautiful women.”
I’m so focused on dissecting his every word that I almost miss the punchline and its implication.Holy crap, this guy is hitting on me.
I shouldn’t be so floored by the idea. It’s not like I’m a troll or anything. But at events like these, wearing the waitress uniform usually makes you invisible. Compared to women like Viktoria, decked out in their finery, I’m nothing special. And yet I’ve caught a lot of attention tonight. Too much, honestly.
“Considering I dumped wine on his date and insulted him, I think any future between us has been fully abandoned.”
“His loss.” The man moves closer. Now, it’s impossible to misinterpret what this is. What he’s doing.
The little Harmony devil on my shoulder encourages me to go for it. To end my sex drought. The guy really isn’t bad-looking, even if he is a little old.
But not tonight. Even before Kirill and his crew officially destroyed my mood, today was never going to be a good day.
How could it be? Mom isn’t here to refuse everything I try to buy her, insisting I’m the real gift.
She isn’t here to sing “Happy Birthday” to, even though it’s her least favorite song in the world.
She isn’t here at all.
And now, I desperately need to get out of here, too.
“Well, thanks for checking on me. That’s very thoughtful, but I’m fine.” I move to step around him, but he shifts with me.
“I’ll be honest,” he says, “my motives weren’t exactly selfless. I picked you the moment you walked in the room tonight.”
“You…pickedme?”
The man doesn’t seem to see a problem with his phrasing because he smiles and nods. “I have exceptional taste.”
My God. Has my quota for assholes not been met yet? It’s cruel and unusual to deal with this many self-obsessed men in one three-hour window. Maybe I unknowingly have a neon sign hanging above my head:“Sad, vulnerable woman. All dicks welcome.”
I glance around and notice a few men positioned in a loose semi-circle in the shadows around us. They’re all dressed identically in simple black suits with thin black ties. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were Secret Service.
