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As in, Timofey’s friends and acquaintances and Bratva connections who are all waiting downstairs for me to play the part of his perfect new girlfriend.
All while Noelle wants me to try and escape into the night with a tiny infant baby.
Not to mention,this isn’t real.With his arms around me, I can almost forget everything else.
Almost.
But the weight of expectation settles over me as gracefully as a piano falling on my head, and I take a shaky inhale.
Timofey notices. Because of course he does. “Relax,” he murmurs. “You look the part, Piper. You’re ready.”
He sounds sincere. I believe him.
The question is:Ready for what, exactly?
84
PIPER
Being on Timofey’s arm as he leads me from senator to CEO and veteran to billionaire feels like hurtling around on an amusement park ride. I’m floating through a scene that doesn’t feel real. I’m not supposed to breathe the same air as these people, let alone shake hands and trade polite compliments with them.
Yet, here I am.
And somehow, Timofey makes it all make sense.
“I’m not surprised Timofey found himself a generous woman like you,” the senator’s wife says. I don’t know her name, and she doesn’t offer it up, probably assuming I ought to recognize her. It doesn’t really matter—her double-looped string of pearls and glossy blonde hair is enough of an introduction. “He himself was very generous with my husband’s last campaign.”
I nod and smile. “Oh. How nice.”
I have no clue what to say to that. Politics has never been on my radar. There’s no room for it when you’re too worried about buying groceries, making rent, and not losing my job.
The woman seems to take this as me playing hard-to-get.
“You and I will have to get together sometime.” She pinches my elbow conspiratorially and gives me a wink. “Good friends are hard to find. We have to stick together.”
This woman and I are barely acquaintances, let alone friends. But I have a feeling her interest lies more in the connection she and her husband could have to Timofey than it has anything to do with me. She doesn’t exactly seem down for a pajama party with Noelle and Ashley.
Timofey finishes his conversation with the woman’s husband and loops his arm around my waist. “Piper will have to talk with you more later, Margaret,” he says. “Right now, she’s running defense for me.”
The woman—Margaret, apparently—actually giggles. “Good of you to practice. You’ll need a solid defense at the wedding.”
“Should I be expecting trouble?” he rumbles.
“Heaps of it,” Margaret says with a grin. “When word got out you were off the market, there were a lot of broken hearts. Those women might not take as kindly to Piper as I have.”
Timofey spreads his hand across my hip. My skin practically sizzles at his touch. “Once they meet her, they’ll love her as much as I do.”
Not real. Not real. Not real.
If I keep repeating the words to myself, maybe they will stick. Maybe my heart will stop beating out of my chest every time Timofey looks my way over the crowd.
Maybe.
But probably not.
The party is meant to be a rehearsal dinner, but as the bride and groom move through the room, everyone’s eyes are on Timofey. He commands attention even when he isn’t trying.
But while everyone is watching him, he is watching me.
