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She meets my gaze for a fleeting moment. “And what if I say no?”
I try not to let my body betray me. So I force myself to remain relaxed, unbothered, even though the caveman in my chest is beating a drum and howling like a fucking lunatic. “Our original contract will still stand whether you accept this new clause or not.”
She nods.
“But—” That causes her to flinch, her eyes colliding once again with mine. “—should you decide you want out of the contract altogether, I will release you with the promised severance package. I will even help you get another job.”
Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth comes down at the corners. She doesn’t seem wild about the fact that I’m willing, at least on the surface, to let her go so easily.
Hope kindles in my gut.
Maybe that can work in my favor.
Maybe there’s a way for me to geteverythingI want.
52
EMMA
A week has passed since the offer that rocked my world on its axis. I’m still pondering. Still dreaming. Still waking up breathless.
I need a distraction. But riding the elevator up towards Ruslan’s penthouse feels more like a recipe for disaster. I’m in no fit state to meet him. I’m in no fit state to meetanyone.
Today of all days…
It’s the whole entire reason I called in sick to work today. Of course I’d forgotten that we had a rendezvous scheduled for this evening and, instead of canceling like I should have, I decided to make use of the fact that Amelia was babysitting tonight.
So here I am, wearing my first-date dress.
Because the truth is, despite my mental state right now—Iwantto see him.
Even after he proposed the baby clause addendum to our contract. Because at this rate, what’s another clause, huh? What’s another contract?
This one just so happens to include achild.One that would be half his and half mine. I wonder if the fact that I’m here at all means that I’ve already made my decision.
No. Stop it. You’re too emotional today.
If there’s one thing that Sienna had taught me, it was that you never make big decisions when you are riding too high or too low.
I find Ruslan in the living room in all his shirtless glory. He’s got a wineglass in one hand and a book in the other. As distractions go, he’s a pretty good one.
“Whatcha reading?” I ask. He snaps the book shut and holds the cover up for me to see. “Alexander Pushkin, huh? Is he any good?”
Ruslan chuckles. “Only one of the greatest poets to have ever lived.”
I smile as I sit down on the couch next to him. “I didn’t realize you were into poetry.”
“I like beautiful things.” He sets his wine aside. “How are you feeling,kiska?”
“You don’t have to worry about catching anything from me, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He arches one eyebrow at my outburst of feistiness. “I’m asking howyouare feeling?”
“Fine,” I say without meeting his eyes. “I’m fine.”
He accepts that wordlessly. “Then come here.”
I hike my dress up and slide onto his lap, straddling him like always, but the usual needy throbbing that accompanies any kind of proximity to Ruslan is glaringly absent today. I swallow the lump in my throat and place my hands on his shoulders.
