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“Maybe you should.”
“I should what?” His brows pull together.
“Marry her,” I say then move my eyes from his before he can see any sadness in mine. I won’t let myself imagine her on his arm, because I’m sure it would gut me. Even more than me saying these words.
“What?” The word drops hard like an anchor between us. “Why would you say that?”
“She’s Russian for one, and I mean, she’s so”—I wave my hands up and down over myself—“beautiful, and elegant, and womanly. She seems so cultured and…”
“And cold and manipulating and fake.” He knuckles my chin up again. “But most important, she’s not you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “But she’s…”
He leans into my ear. “Are you trying to tell your daddy that he doesn’t know what’s best?”
That deep voice of his sends mini-shocks down my spine.
“No, of course not, I’m just… I guess I’m just a little insecure.” I sigh. “You don’t think she’s beautiful?” He’s not blind; he has to at least see how attractive she is.
“On the outside, yes, she is, but it’s all smoke and mirrors. Besides, no one is as beautiful as my baby girl.” He runs his thumb over my lip. “Do you understand me,malyshka? I don’t want her—or any other woman.”
“Oh.” When they leave, our arrangement, whatever this is between us ends. It’s what I said I wanted, it’s what I demanded from him—and now that it’s within reach, I can’t imagine my life without him in it. A dull ache hits my chest when I think of it, but I push it away quickly, not wanting him to get wind of it.
He drops his hand. “I have to have another quick conversation with Yefim. Why don’t you go check on Mandy in the bathroom. When you get back, we’ll have something to drink and then get out of here before they serve the salads.”
“All right.” I nod with relief. “Do you think we could invite Mandy and Maxim over? Maybe we could order pizza or something, whatever won’t bother her tummy?”
He grins, like everything I just said made his night. “Of course, but don’t be surprised if Maxim says no. He’s just as protective of his wife as I am of my baby girl. So no arguing either if he wants to take her home.”
“Oh, he won’t say no.” I leave him to his talk and search out Mandy. Between the two of us, we’ll get her husband to say yes.
I started out this evening scared of what I’d find in this room, but now, nothing can ruin it.
Billie
“Mandy?”I enter the bathroom and find her standing over the sink washing her hands. “You okay?” I lean a hip against the counter.
She glances at me and nods. “Yeah. I’m really tired of this morning sickness.”
“I wish I had some advice to give you, but I know nothing about pregnancy other than seeing what my friend went through and is going through now with her second one.”
“I should be okay now.” She turns off the water and grabs a paper towel from the dispenser. “I usually only get sick once at night. Well, except for the middle of the night bout of nausea that hits around two in the morning.” She crumples up the paper and tosses it in the garbage.
“Do you think you might want to come over to Roman’s house? He said you guys could come over, we can order pizza or whatever you want.” I’m doing my damnedest not to sound like a teenage girl asking for a sleepover.
“He doesn’t want to stay? I thought tonight was some big important deal for him.” Mandy pulls out a Chapstick from her clutch and applies it.
“He said we’ll have one drink, then we can go before dinner.” I shrug. “I didn’t ask any questions. I was just glad he said we could leave. I’m so afraid that I’ll say the wrong thing and they’ll figure out this whole thing has been a lie.” I blow out a breath. “The sooner I can get out of here the better.”
Mandy’s eyes go wide in the mirror, and she slowly lowers the Chapstick from her lips.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, turning to look behind her at what could be scaring her.
Anastasia stands in the aisle of stalls. There’s a second half to the bathroom that I didn’t see when I walked in. She must have been around the corner in one of the stalls.
“Anastasia. Hi.” I push off the counter, hoping to hell she didn’t overhear us.
“What has been a lie, Billie?” The sweetness has completely evaporated from her voice. She takes steady, purposeful steps toward us. “You aren’t engaged to Roman?” She gives a glance at my hand where the engagement ring still sits firmly on my finger.
