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She shakes her head. “I’ll sit on Ruslan’s lap,” she insists, climbing aboard without bothering to ask permission.
Phoebe suppresses a giggle. “Can’t believe you expected her to choose you over a hot guy.”
I poke her in the ribs with my elbow, not that it does a damn bit of good. She just keeps on giggling.
Ruslan spends almost a full hour with Reagan on his knee. He doesn’t seem at all fazed when Caroline drips her cone on his pants. Or when Reagan spills her glass of water across the table. Or when Phoebe resumes her interrogation of him.
I don’t say much. I have this weird churning feeling in my stomach that I can’t quite put a finger on. But since no one’s paying any attention to me, I decide to explore it a little.
I’m thrilled with how well this day has gone. Not only did Josh get to play his very first basketball match, but he won. More importantly, he looks happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. As much as I’d like to give the game all the credit, I know that Ruslan’s presence has made a world of difference.
It sets a stark contrast to the man we left at home in a drunken stupor. I’ve tried to explain it to Ben several times in the past: your kids don’t care if you’re rich or smart or funny or cool. They just want you toshow up.
Which is probably why, even though I am thrilled about today, I’m also terrified. Because I can’t expect Ruslan to show up like this all the time. He’s a temporary part of our lives and so the way the kids are looking at him right now freaks the hell out of me.
They’ve already lost their mother. In many ways, they’ve lost their father, too. As much as I’ve tried to fill the holes in their lives, I’m starting to realize that I can’t be all the things they’ve lost. I can’t be all the things they need.
And as for Ruslan…
Reagan whispers something in his ear and he laughs. I’ve never seen him smile so much. He runs a hand down Caroline’s long hair and says something back to Reagan that makes her giggle.
It’s bad enough that he’s handsome and smart and successful. Does he have to be so damnniceas well? Does he have to be so damn generous? Kind? Thoughtful?
It makes me think—there has to be a catch, right? I mean, no man is that perfect.
That, in turn, makes me do a double-take.What am I saying?Ruslan Oryolov sure as hell is not perfect. He’s a cutthroat business mogul who may or may not have ties to the Russian mafia. He may or may notbethe freaking Russian mafia.
He’s also spent the last eighteen months of my life being the bosshole from hell.
The thing is, the more time I spend with him now, the harder it becomes to remember what he was like back then.I guess the only thing I can do is keep reminding myself. Because even though he seems pretty content to play the role of Temporary Daddy, there’s no way in hell it’s a role he wants for keeps.
Our contract will end sometime and, when it does, I’m gonna have to move on. And so will the kids.
I’m just hoping he doesn’t do anything else between now and then that’ll cause my uterus to throw herself at his feet.
Ruslan clears his throat. “Josh, in honor of your first win, I have something for you.”
Well, that didn’t take long.
“Be right back,” Ruslan says, popping Reagan off his lap. “Gotta go get it from the car.”
Phoebe glances at me as he strides out of the ice cream shop, drawing plenty of admiring gazes on his way. “Did you know about this?”
“Not a thing.”
Josh is peering out the window as Ruslan grabs something from the trunk of his car and walks back into the creamery. “Here you go,” he says, handing the thin package to Josh.
The girls help Josh tear the colored blue paper off. I’m so focused on how animated Josh’s face is that I don’t even look at the present until he gasps, his eyes growing even wider.
“A Knicks jersey!”
Ruslan points towards the bottom of the jersey. “It’s signed, too.”
Josh looks like he’s about to swallow his own tongue. “I-I-I…”
Reagan and Caroline giggle. “Joshie forgot how to speak.”
“Thank you,” Josh breathes at last. “Thank you so much!”
