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“Overtime, huh?” He leers. “Is that code for ‘working on your back’?”
“Asshole!”
I’m tempted to slap the hell out of him. Instead, making use of his unsteadiness, I bolt around him and rush through the door before he can stop me. Unfortunately, the rank turd follows me outside.
“I’m not done talking to you!”
“Well, I’m done talking to you!”
I’m in the process of flipping him the bird when he grabs my arm. “Listen here, you—”
Suddenly, Ben is yanked right off me. I turn to my savior, expecting to see Ruslan. But instead, it’s Kirill who’s got Ben by the front of his soiled t-shirt.
“W-who are you?” Ben demands.
“Right now? Your worst nightmare.”
I raise my eyebrows. Under normal circumstances, a line like that would be a cringe-inducing cliché. But apparently, with the right delivery, it’s surprisingly effective. Ben seems to agree—he goes deathly pale and his twitching kicks up a notch.
“There are better men than you that have their eyes on Ms. Carson. And I won’t hesitate to pluck yours out if youeverlay a hand on her again. Understood?”
Ben nods obediently, his eyes wide with fear.
Kirill shoves Ben back. His heel catches the curb and he lands with his ass on the pavement. Kirill flashes me a charming smile and offers me his arm.
“Shall we, madam?”
It’s not exactly the fairytale departure I’d hope for.
But this Cinderella’s gonna take what she gets.
45
EMMA
“Where’s Ruslan?”
I’m busy adjusting my seatbelt so it doesn’t mess with my dress, so I miss Kirill’s facial expression. “He’ll be on his way to the gala now as we speak.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh. Does he have press to do on his own or something?”
Kirill’s forehead wrinkles. “Press?”
I’m starting to feel a little hot despite the fact that the air conditioning is blasting. “Well, um, I mean, I thought we were supposed to walk in together. Doesn’t he usually enter these galas with his dates?”
His eyebrows rise but he gives me only a nod. “Usually, yeah, he does.”
Am I missing something?
“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a country bumpkin or anything. It’s just that this is my first gala and I’m not sure how it all works. I was kinda hoping Ruslan would be with me to talk me through the whole thing.”
Kirill shifts to the side and clears his throat. “Well, the thing is, there’s a certain… protocol at these kinds of events.”
“I know. That’s why I’m asking.”
He gives me a glance that I can’t quite read. Is he nervous for me? Does he feel sorry for me? Does he think Ruslan made the wrong choice in choosing me as his date?
“The crowds at this type of thing are different than what you’re used to, Emma,” he explains gently. “Ruslan will be forced to be different, too.”
