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“You,” he says after a moment, his voice tight. He holds his hand out in a friendly manner, but his eyes… He’s fuckingpissed. “Mikhail Antonov. You?”
I shake his hand, my heart leaping into my throat when I feel the contact of his warm palm. He wouldn’t touch me yesterday, but he is now.
“Aurora Foster,” I whisper.
He nods but says nothing, and then he leaves without a word.
I am so fucked.
Chapter 6
Mikhail
Ireview her resumé with great interest. I handpicked all the interns this year, so I remember her name crossing my desk vividly. A graduate from MIT with a degree in computer science and engineering. Not quite the top of her class, but I remember thinking she was no less impressive. Her portfolio spoke for itself. Neat, concise, with programs that were fully operational with no noticeable bugs or performance issues.
I keep calm, weighing my options. The logical thing to do is let her go. If word gets out that I not only saw her naked but instructed her to get off while grinding on top of me, it could damage her career. It could damage my company. If I cut her off now and send her on her way, we’ll be able to avoid further complications and unnecessary awkwardness.
Except that doesn’t exactly sit well with me for a number of reasons.
One, it wasn’t like we were breaking any rules. I wasn’t her boss yet; she wasn’t an employee. What happens on our own time is nobody’s concern. We both consented to it, we both had fun. Why should the one hour we spent together cost her a year-long internship? Two, she would clearly make a fine addition to the team. Her resumé speaks for itself. She’s smart, passionate. And three…
I want her to stay. It’s selfish, I know, but deep down in the pit of my stomach, I want to know more about her. I have so many questions. Why did she lie to me about her name? About being there at Priscilla Kelp’s event?
And why the fuck is there a wedding ring on her finger?
I spotted the band of gold in an instant. She’d been spinning it anxiously between her fingers, the panic clear in her eyes. She’s married. It’s no wonder she was spinning tales at the party. This new information upsets me more than I want to admit.
What lucky bastard gets to call her his wife? And why the hell is she out parading next-to-nude at a party? Why does she have to work at all? If I had a woman in my life, I’d ensure she’d never have to lift a finger. One of the many lessons my father taught me was to take care of your family, to provide. What kind of deadbeat dickhead must he be for Aurora to feel the need to moonlight as a server?
Aurora.
I linger on the thought of her name. It’s beautiful, just like her. Like the princess fromSleeping Beauty. Now that I think about it, it suits her so much more than Charlotte. Befitting.
I force the thoughts away. I need to stop thinking about her. When it comes to business, there are very few lines I won’t cross if I’m sure I can get away with it. But on a personal level, cheating is something I can’t condone. Even though we didn’t take things further, we still went too far. I make the decision to swallow whatever this strange feeling in my chest is.
If we can both be civil and act like nothing happened, I see no reason why Aurora can’t keep her job. I need to keep my distance—for both our sakes.
There’s a knock on my door. Merrybell pokes her head in.
“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Antonov,” she says. She’s a sweet lady. Looks a lot like my own mother, except Catherina is anything but sweet. I love that woman to death, but there’s no one else on Earth capable of striking fear in my heart like my own mother.
“What is it?” I ask, shoving Aurora’s resumé into my desk’s top drawer.
“Mr. Young has sent over the paperwork. Just needs your signature. I forwarded an electronic copy for you to sign.”
“Good. I’ll take care of it.”
“It sure is exciting to see some new faces around here,” Merrybell comments politely, casting a quick glance at the interns out in the main office area. I have a clear view of Aurora from where I’m sitting. I’m not sure if that’s going to be a problem or not.
“Is there anything else you need, Merrybell?” I ask.
“Oh, yes. There’s a gentleman on line one waiting for you. The same one who called you yesterday and the week before. Name started with a K?”
I grit my teeth. “Konstantin.”
Merrybell snaps her fingers. “Yep, that’s it.”
“Thank you for letting me know. Close the door on your wait out.”
