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“She’s there, isn’t she? You kept that girl overnight.” The accusation is hard to miss in his tone. Maybe he’s not so good at balancing on that line.
“How happy was Anya when you told her you were marrying her?” I ask in Russian to keep Billie from understanding our conversation.
“That was an entirely different situation.”
“Not at all. You wanted Anya, you went and got her. I want her and the opportunity presented itself.”
“Does she know your plans or are you keeping it from her?” he pushes.
“I have to go. We’ll talk later.” I hang up before he can argue any further and slide my phone onto the countertop.
“You were talking about me?” Billie asks, coming to my side at the stove.
“I was.” No need to lie. “There’s scrambled eggs and bacon.” I pick up a plate from the counter and remove the lid from the eggs.
“I’m not really hungry. Maybe just some coffee.” She steps over to the coffeemaker, which is empty.
“After you eat. I’ll get the coffee going while you start.” I plate up a scoop of eggs and several pieces of bacon and hand it to her.
She eyes it.
“Coffee on an empty stomach isn’t good, Billie. Now take your breakfast to the table and start eating.” I push the plate toward her again, and she takes it. “Don’t pout,” I say as she walks away to the table.
“I always have coffee without eating first,” she mutters as she takes a seat at the table on the other side of the kitchen island.
“Not anymore.” I shake my head and plate myself some food before hitting the brew button on the coffeemaker.
“You can’t tell me what to eat and when, that’s just too much.” She shovels in a large forkful of eggs.
“I’ll tell you anything I want to if it means keeping you safe and healthy,” I say flatly.
“Coffee isn’t bad for you and drinking it on an empty stomach has never hurt me,” she argues, side-eying the pot brewing on the counter.
I lean over the table and wait for her to meet my gaze. “It’s not good to have coffee on an empty stomach, so no more doing that. And no more arguing about it either or I’ll take coffee away from you altogether. I have a feeling you drink too much of it anyway.”
“You can’t do that,” she insists with wide eyes. Poor girl still doesn’t understand that I can and will do whatever I need to do to keep her safe and healthy.
Silently, I push up from the table. Her eyes bore into me as I walk over to the coffeepot and reach for the power button.
“Okay! Okay,” she calls out from the table. “I won’t argue. No coffee on an empty stomach. Fine.”
I grin as I turn around and head to her seat. I kiss her temple.
“Such a good girl this morning,” I say and point to her breakfast. “Finish up.” After another kiss, I sit back down across from her. The coffeepot gurgles.
Relief relaxes her features and she takes another bite of the eggs. “These are really good.”
“Hmmm.” I devour my bacon first.
“Why didn’t you call me?” She puts her fork down on her plate when she’s finished eating.
“Why didn’t I call you?” I’ve been calling her all week.
“Yes. After you moved me into my apartment two years ago. I didn’t hear from you. Why?” She folds her hands in her lap and casts her eyes at my collarbone. I think it’s been weighing on her mind, and she’s finally talked herself into asking.
“To keep you safe.”
“And now?” She raises her gaze. “Am I safer because your father moved to Russia or less?”
