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“How is that possible?” She comes back to the table with a bottle of water. “Don’t you all just club the woman over the head with a stick and drag her home?”
I look up at her with a raised brow. “I recall you running away at least once.”
She shrugs. “But he chased me down.” She points at me. “Why are you here on a Friday night instead of out chasing her? Get out of here and go find her. If she feels anything for you like you obviously feel for her, she needs you more now than ever.”
“You were listening to our conversation,” Luka accuses her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
“Well, I didn’t understand the stuff you said in Russian, but I got the gist.” She pats his shoulder.
“Go. Get dressed. I’m taking you out. If you’re not going to study, we’re going to have fun.”
She sighs. “If I have to,” she says and saunters out of the kitchen.
“She plays you like a fiddle,” I say to him. “Who studies on a Friday night?”
He merely shrugs. “She would if I let her, but she needs a night off. You want to come?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Are you going to get off your ass and go get her?”
I pull out my phone and hit the tracking app. She’s gone nowhere besides work for the last week. But she’s not home now.
“You take care of your woman.” I get to my feet. “And I’ll take care of mine.”
Mandy
“Here you go!”Anya puts a full glass of white wine on our high-top table and the bottle beside it.
“That didn’t take long.” I take a large sip of my drink. “How’d you get the bottle?”
“It helps that the bartenders know I’m Arman’s wife now.” She smiles. “I didn’t have to wait.”
“Does Arman know you’re here with me?” I ask, downing the last of my glass then pouring another.
“Yes.” She swirls her red wine before taking a small sip. “Don’t worry, he won’t tell Maxim.”
“Why would he?” I ask, taking another gulp. “Maxim and I aren’t a thing.” I take a deep breath as the room tilts slightly to the right.
“Uh huh.” Anya pours me another glass.
“I mean. How can I be with a man who does what he does? After my brother… well, you know.” I wave my hand in front of my face. I think someone threw glitter; there’s little sparkles in the air.
“How can you be friends with me, then?” She points her wineglass at me. “You say you can’t be with Maxim because he works for Arman; I’m married to him.”
I frown. I don’t like this point. I take another sip, hoping to wash away the flavor of her logic.
“I think it’s because you’re scared. You love him and it terrifies you.” She nods and sips her wine. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“It has nothing to do with love.”
She laughs. “It has everything to do with it.”
“Excuse me.” A finger taps on my shoulder, and I turn halfway to see a man in a black t-shirt and jeans grinning at me. “I was wondering if you’d like to dance.” His eyes are small and too close together, but he has a nice smile.
“She’s taken,” Anya leans over the table to say.
“I am not.” I shake my head. “She’s had too much wine. Sure, I’d like to dance.” If it will get me out of a conversation that has been circling the Maxim drain, I’m all for it. I’m not scared, I’m practical. Being with Maxim is too risky.
