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I’m so damn nervous. In all the chaos, report checking, and deal-making, I’ve had to work around planning Ivan’s grandmother's birthday party. Well, not plan but oversee. I was handed the plan that had already been made, and I had to ensure it was all accounted for and sorted.
A lot of it was relatively normal, what you would expect at a fancy birthday party, but some of the more cultural elements threw me a little off guard.
Anastasia finishes curling my hair. “Perfect.”
I stand up, stare at the figure-hugging revealing dress in the mirror, and look at her pleadingly. “I’m basically nude.”
“You’re not. You look great,” she assures me. “Hair and makeup are on point, smoking hot sexy dress, and some nice flat shoes because you’ll be dancing a lot, trust me.”
I pout and look in the mirror. The dress is a v-line that makes my cleavage pop. My somewhat growing cleavage. My boobs are starting to get so tender I don’t know what to do with them.
It’s a backless number and reaches the floor, sweeping a little behind me. It’s dark red, a color I’m told Ivan is especially fond of on women, and the off-shoulder straps feel like they’re going to fall off. The whole dress feels like it's just going to fall off.
Anastasia notices my panic and shakes her head. “It’s secure, don’t worry. You’re going to be the talk of the family.”
“I never was with mine, and now I’m not sure I ever want to be of anyone’s family,” I confess.
Ivan comes into the room, and Anastasia smiles. “She’s ready. Let me go touch up my makeup.”
It’s an excuse to leave, we all know it, but she hurries off, and Ivan ogles me.
“Do I look okay?” I ask quietly, clasping my hands in front of me. Unfortunately, I realize it makes my cleavage pop more, which I can tell from how Ivan’s eyebrows raise.
“You look magnificent, Tori,” he says, coming over and kissing me softly on the lips. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
Knowing how much he loved Anastasia’s mother really tugs at my heart. I’m such a dog.
I try to push the thoughts out of my head as I take his arm. He leads me out of the house with Anastasia ahead of us and into the limousine.
I sit nervously, fidgeting with my fingers as we drive to the venue where everything is set up for the party.
“It’s going to be perfect,” Ivan says, placing his hand over mine to still my fidgeting. “We’re a big family, but everyone will love you.”
“Except Leonid,” I can’t help but comment.
“He’ll come around,” Ivan says. “My brother is just hard-headed sometimes.”
Once we reach the venue, we’re expected, as the head of the family and hosts, to stand at the door and welcome all the guests. Ivan is to my left, Anastasia is to my right, and we greet everyone as they walk in. Ivan introduces every person to me, but I’m already struggling to pronounce some of the names, and I forget others. I’m pleased when Arina arrives, looking gorgeous in what looks like a longer version of a jazz-style dress right out of the musical Chicago.
She hugs me tightly and kisses my cheek. “You look radiant, my dear. I’m so glad to see you again.’’
“I’m so happy to see you again, too,” I gush, giving her another hug before she moves over to embrace Anastasia.
I’m getting antsy with everyone still coming, and Anastasia must pick up on my nerves because she excuses us from her father and takes me to sit at our table.
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s a lot of people.”
“Some of them are just business partners or people who work for the family,” she says, pouring me a glass of ice-cold water. I sip it slowly.
“We get that too. Our families have a lot in common, actually,” I mention.
“I wish my mother were here,” she says wistfully. “She loved Babushka Maria so much.”
I reach for her hand. “Your mother sounds like she was amazing.”
“She was. Always the life of the party and always the one to heal any rifts that happened. She was a peacemaker and tempered my father a lot. Many people didn’t like that. The guy who gave away our location the day it happened was my father’s best friend. My father trusted him over everyone else even though everyone warned him that Donald was up to no good. My father regretted trusting him so much.”
“My mother was also killed in a family-related incident,” I say gently, holding her hand. “So, on that front, I can empathize with you, but I want you to know I am in no way a replacement for your mom. I could never take her place. It would even be kind of weird if I tried.”
