AllFreeNovel
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Most are of the kids. Bike rides in the park. Ice cream at Connie’s Creamery. Reagan’s crayon doodle of me, a masterpiece currently housed on Emma’s refrigerator. But once in a while, there’s a picture that includes Emma, beaming from the corner of a photo almost like an afterthought.
I’ve been combing through this gallery a little too often lately. But that’s only because an idea entered my head a few days ago and now, it won’t budge.
“Brady Sanchez’s team reached out. He wants a meeting with you to discuss the contract for his new building.”
“Hm.”
“I checked with Emma. You have some time next week to schedule a meeting.”
“Hm.”
I flick to a particularly cute picture of all three kids together. Josh is sitting cross-legged on the grass with Reagan on his lap and Caroline kneeling behind him with her arms around his neck. He’s smiling for once. I see the faintest traces of new muscle filling out the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’s been working hard in the gym during our sessions together. The other day, one of his punches jostled some dust loose from the ceiling and I think he still hasn’t stopped grinning about it.
Kirill clears his throat. “Drafting the next great American novel?”
Scowling at him, I put my phone away. “Just going over the trial results that Sergey sent me.”
Kirill cocks an eyebrow. “Bro—you’re sitting in front of reflective glass. You were looking at pictures of those kids.”
Fuck.It’s bad enough knowing you have a problem. It’s so much worse when you’re called out.
I leave the chair by the window and move to the sofa. This apartment used to be my bachelor pad. It’s decked out with a game room, a theater, and a gym. Kirill usually crashes here when he’s too lazy to trek downtown to his own apartment. It’s also become our go-to hangout spot when we’re looking to unwind, away from people and loud music and sleazy fucking reporters with long lens cameras.
“This thing with you and Emma… How serious is it?”
I clench my jaw. “The contract still stands. That part hasn’t changed. It’s just more… exclusive now.”
“A contracted girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I snap.
Kirill smirks. “She’s yoursomething. Why else would you spend so much time with her and those kids when you don’t have to?”
He’s got a point. But it’ll take a damn army to make me admit that. “Because I had an idea recently and, the more I think about it, the less crazy it seems.”
Kirill sits up a little straighter. “Intriguing. What’s this idea?”’
Once you say it out loud, there’s no going back…
“Well?” he presses. “You gonna keep me in suspense or what?”
“I was thinking about adding an addendum to the contract.”
His eyebrows rise. “Scheduled sex four times a week instead of two?” he asks. “Doggystyleandmissionary required in every session?” His chuckle dies when he sees the look on my face. He clears his throat. “Okay… so this is aseriousaddendum?”
“I don’t say this often but Vadim’s right: Idoneed to start thinking about heirs.”
Kirill nearly sprays my designer sofa with a mouthful of gin. He sets the glass back on the liquor cart and slides up to the furthest edge of his seat.
“Brother, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“She’s a good mother. And I can work with her.”
“By ‘work’ with her, do you mean raise children with her? Because that and what she does now are twoverydifferent jobs.”
“I’m not interested in doing things traditionally—”
“Thanks for clarifying; I wasn’t aware.”
