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My heart clenches. I hate myself for it.
“Why in the hell should I care if Kirill is dating anyone? It’s been years since we were together. Not that we were even ‘together.’ When I last saw him, he was telling me to get off of his property like I was a stranger. Actually, no—he probably would have been nicer to a stranger.”
Natalia shakes her head. “I doubt it. He isn’t very friendly, your guy.”
“He isn’t ‘my guy,’” I snap. “He isn’t anything to me.”
"He's your baby daddy. That’s something.”
I narrow my eyes to slits. "No. He is nothing to me."
“Great! Then it should be fine that I’m working for him.” I groan and Natalia gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, RayRay. You said he was in town and the first thing I thought was that I could finally be free of Genevieve. I've been looking for a new job since the first day I started at Genevieve’s and no luck. This is my shot."
I fidget uncomfortably. "I can talk to Steven and Martha. Maybe they'd need another maid…"
I know that’s a long shot. Some days, there isn't even enough work for me to do. I putter around until it's time for me to leave or Martha sends me home. They definitely don't need two maids.
Natalia squeezes my hands. "Even if I only work for Kirill for a couple months, I’ll have enough padding to survive while I look for a more permanent job. And if I work there longer than a couple months, I could put a sizable dent in my savings for the cafe. This could pave the way to me getting my dream.”
I drop my head onto my arms on the bar. “I hate that you’re making me feel so selfish. I’m supposed to be right and you’re supposed to be wrong. I want it to be simple. Black and white. No gray allowed.”
Natalia rests her cheek on my shoulder. “Sorry, lady. Things aren’t that simple. And for the record, there was no one else in the house.”
“What?” I ask the question before I can realize what she said, before I realize what I’m stepping into.
“The house was empty. Kirill was alone. There’s no one else. No other women."
My heart thuds. It’s a physical manifestation of the dying hope in my chest coming back to life. “I don’t care.”
“He didn’t say that in quite so many words, exactly,” Natalia continues, ignoring me. “But when I asked if there was anyone else in the house, he was evasive.”
I wince. “You asked him? Outright? Maybe he was evasive because he was uncomfortable.”
“No way. Men like that don’t get uncomfortable about stuff like that. And they always let you know if there is a woman around. Bragging rights or whatever.” Natalia takes a sip of her drink and bobs her head, confident in her logic. “The only reason he was quiet is because he knows we are friends and he didn’t want you to know he’s single. It makes him look pathetic.”
“Hey! I’m single, too. So are you. We aren’t pathetic.”
She elbows me gently. “Of course we aren’t pathetic. We’re single by choice. But the thought of Kirill in that big old house, wandering the hallways completely alone… that’s pathetic.”
My chest tightens, but it isn’t pity I feel. It’s sadness, genuine and deep. The thought of Kirill living in that massive house alone breaks my heart.
Ilya should be there with him.
Ishould be there with him.
The thought takes me so much by surprise that I actually jolt. Beer sloshes over the rim of my glass, and I hurriedly suck the liquid off of my hand.
Natalia looks over, brow raised. “You okay there, home girl?”
“I’m fine. Just spilled. I’m fine,” I say again. “Totally fine.” I can hear how flustered I sound, so I fumble for some way to change the subject. “Did I show you the picture I took of Yuliana this morning? I braided her hair and she insisted on wearing that white lace flower girl dress in the back of her closet. I tried to talk her out of it, but she had a meltdown and—”
In the middle of talking, I realize Natalia is staring over my shoulder. Her eyes are wide, focused on something I can’t see.
“What?” I ask, whispering softly. “Am I allowed to look, too? Is it a cute guy? I don’t want to look and reveal you aren’t as hard to get as you’re making it seem.”
I got in trouble the last time we were out for turning fully around on my barstool and staring at the tattooed man Natalia had been “eye-fucking” all night. Her exact words, not mine. Apparently, me whipping around revealed that she was interested in him, which turned him off, and all hopes of a romantic, foreplay-filled evening wilted on the vine.
“Don’t youwanta guy to know you’re interested?”I asked at the time.“I thought that was the whole point.”
