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“We’re fresh out, Ms. Allens.”
“Disappointing.”
The vein seems to have taken up permanent residence on Emma’s forehead. But apart from that little tell, her face gives nothing away. “If that’s all, then…”
She’s backing away from the table when Jessica snaps her fingers. “Hold on. Where did you put my coat and bag?”
“They’re on my desk, Ms. Allens. Exactly where you dum—left them.”
Jessica is not even looking at Emma when she speaks. “That coat is worth more than your entire apartment. Make sure it’s looked after.”
Emma’s jaw clenches. Now that Jessica is looking away, she lets her professional mask slide right off. If looks could kill, Jessica would be a smoldering pile of ash.
I can’t say I’d mind.
The moment the door shuts, Jessica rolls her eyes. “What a ditz, huh? Finding good help issohard these days.”
Something inside my chest roars to life. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s accompanied by a very specific thought:No one insults my woman.
On the heels of that thought is pure fucking terror.
What the fuck?Mywoman?
“Ahem! Ruslan? Where’d you go, handsome?”
I blink away the little red spots that are honestly a welcome distraction from Jessica’s face and do my damned best to appear like I’m actually happy to see her.
We spend the next hour flitting from one mundane subject to the next. The only consistent thing about the conversation is the fact that she bookends each topic with the mention of a friend who’s getting married or about to get married; a friend who’s pregnant or trying to get pregnant.
I keep my phone close the whole time, but try as I might, some of the stupid bullshit she’s spewing still manages to slip through.
“… don’t you think?”
Since I’ve completely missed her question, I fall back on my tried-and-true default. “Hm.”
Her eyebrows hitch up with excitement. “I knew it. It’s the broody, silent ones that are big teddy bears on the inside.”
Okay. So maybe it’s not a foolproof response. “Come again?”
“It would be a terrible shame if you didn’t have children, Ruslan. I mean, look at that jawline of yours! Those genes need to be passed on!”
I nip that shit in the bud immediately. One: I’m not the fatherly type. Two: I have no idea what this woman’s children would actually look like; shit, I’ve forgotten whatsheused to look like. And three: the thought of procreating with her just made me violently sick to my stomach.
“Children aren’t on my radar.”
“Oh.” Her face drops. “But—”
I make a show of glancing down at my Rolex. “It’s been a pleasure catching up, Jessica. But I have meetings to get to.”
“Oh. Okay. Shall we schedule another date soon? Maybe dinner next time?”
I nod. “I’ll have my assistant contact yours.”
I open the door for her and Jessica’s eyes veer straight to Emma. She makes a point of placing her hand on my chest, her eyelashes fluttering unnecessarily.
“Thanks for amesmerizinglunch, handsome.” She leans in, her lips coming for mine. I turn my face deftly to the side and her kiss finds my cheek.
“Jessica.”
