AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He shoots me a dirty look from the driver’s seat and jumps out of the SUV. A few seconds later, the door opens and reveals him standing there with a black umbrella in hand.
“What is with you today?” I demand. “It was bad enough you wouldn’t let me sit up front with you. This is excessive.”
“Listen, it took a lot of convincing to get Dmitri to agree to let you have this lunch with Syrah, okay?” he says, eyes pleading. “He only agreed because I promised I would be here the entire time and I’d take care of you.”
“He’s not gonna care if I get wet.”
Scowling, Aleksandr pulls out his phone and holds it up to my face. There’s a single message on the lock screen.
DMITRI: There’s a storm coming in. Make sure she doesn’t get wet.
Well… I stand corrected.
My jaw drops. “Don’t you think he’s overdoing it just a little?”
Aleksandr just shrugs. “He’s protective. To a fault, apparently. Now, come on—it’s really starting to pour.”
We walk into Serendipity and I breathe in all the delicious scents that filter through the air. The entrance of the restaurant is all persimmons and fresh lemon. And as we move into the dining area, savory fish and sizzling potatoes fill the air.
I’m so distracted by the smells that it’s not until I sit down that I realize the restaurant is completely empty. “Since when are people in this city afraid of a little rain?”
As if in answer, thunder booms overhead and the silverware on the table shivers in place.
Aleksandr smirks. “I don’t think it has anything to do with the rain.”
I cock my head to the side. “What does that—?” There are three waiters standing off to the corner, looking at me as though I’m the belle of the ball. “Oh my God! Did he clear out the whole restaurant?”
“You may be right,” he concedes with more of that same wry grin. “He does have a habit of overdoing things.”
“How the hell am I gonna explain this to?—”
“Wren!” Syrah squeals, coming up around the corner. Aleksandr throws me a wink and backs away as Syrah bulldozes right into me, squawking about how great I look. “You look hot. Seriously hot. Pregnancy suits you. Oh my God, are you wearing Prada?!”
Self-consciously, I look down at the caramel-colored knit dress I’m wearing. “Umm…”
She grabs my arm and pulls me closer. “He’s paying you enough to buy Prada? Girrrl, you’ve got it good. Tell me everything.”
I laugh awkwardly. “Don’t I know it?”
I have to admit, it feels strange to sit here and talk to Syrah without actually being able to tell her anything. Every time she tries to ask about my so-called ‘job,’ I try to change the subject.
By the time we make it to the main course, I’m exhausted from the verbal gymnastics. “So how’s the new client, by the way?” I ask tentatively, wondering if I even want to know.
“New client?” Syrah asks through a mouth full of lobster thermidor.
“I thought I heard that Egorov was signing Deerfield? That’d fall into your department, right?”
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” She takes an unconcerned sip of her wine. “Didn’t take.”
I try not to look too invested. “It didn’t?”
“Nope.” She shrugs. “Apparently, the boss nixed the deal.”
There’s a buzz on my skin. Honestly, it feels better than alcohol. “Are you sure?”
“Mhmm. I spoke to Rogan about it a few days ago. Dmitri refused to so much as meet with him. Must be some bad blood there. Above my paygrade, though.”
I’m too distracted by the warmth spreading through me to muster up a reasonable response. I know I told Dmitri to go ahead and make the deal, but it’s only because I knew I didn’t have the right to ask him to do anything else.
