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“Good night, Maks,” I breathe, stepping back into the elevator without looking away.
My pulse quickens as he watches me with unbridled anticipation until the doors obscure him from view.
16
HEIDI
Zoe left the porch light on for me, and as I make my way quickly and quietly up the pathway in my bare feet, I can feel the eyes of Maks’s bodyguards following me to ensure I get safely inside.
It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning, a fact I didn’t realize until I checked my phone in the car and found several text messages from Zoe asking how the date was going and when I might be home.
But her last text was hours ago, so she must be asleep. Slipping inside the front door as silently as the wood boards will allow, I close and lock it gently behind me. Then I smile as I see that Zoe’s left the kitchen light on for me as well. That will help guide me to the hallway and my bedroom.
Creeping silently through the house, I head for the kitchen to flick off the light.
“Holy Crayola coloring book!” I bark, pressing my hand to my heart as I find Zoe sitting at the kitchen table, her dark eyes watching me. “Zoe, what are you still doing up? It’s the middle of the night, and we have work tomorrow,” I scold softly.
“Yeah, I know,” she says, her tone coming out cross. She scowls at her nearly empty glass of wine and finishes it in one gulp.
“Are you... mad at me?” I ask, confused by her tone.
“No, I just couldn’t sleep. I got kind of worried after I handed you off to some stranger. It was a stupid, reckless move, and I’m sorry. He could have been a serial killer for all I knew.” Zoe stands and comes to give me a hug. “I’m glad you’re alive. I was really starting to debate on whether I should call the cops.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, but if it makes you feel better, it turns out he’s not a stranger,” I say, trying to brighten her mood. “He’s actually the man who paid me two hundred thousand dollars to sleep with him—you know, the one who also happens to be Sarah’s biological father.”
“What!” Zoe’s eyes nearly bug out of her head, and her hands clasp my forearm with bruising strength. “Okay, I need details,” she demands, her sullen tone vanishing.
Dragging me to the kitchen table, she forces me into a chair. Then she pulls a second wine glass from the cabinets and uncorks the bottle to pour us each a glass.
“Zoe, it’s nearly three a.m. We can’t talk about this tomorrow?”
“It already is tomorrow. Now dish.” She plops into the chair across from me and takes a sip of wine, her eyes riveted to my face like I’m some fascinating Hollywood drama.
“Where do I even begin?” I ask, my cheeks flaming when I think about the details of my night.
Zoe might be pretty open with her sexual exploits and the stories she’s willing to tell, but I don’t have many of those, and I much prefer to keep the few I have under lock and key. Like my mama taught me, I don’t kiss and tell.
“From the moment I walked out the door,” Zoe presses. “And don’t leave anything out. Did you sleep together again? What did he say when you told him about Sarah?”
“Well, actually...” A twinge of guilt hits me as I wonder if I might have made the wrong decision to keep that information from him. Maybe I should have led with that.Hi, great to see you. My name is, in fact, Heidi, not Angel, and oh, by the way, we have a three-year-old daughter together. Surprise!
It sounds ridiculous enough in my head that I’m confident that wouldn’t have been the right way to tell him. Besides, if I had told him, he might want to meet her, and I don’t want Sarah to wrap her sweet little mind around the concept of a father when Maks isn’t interested in forming attachments.
“I didn’t tell him about Sarah,” I confess before Zoe has another outburst.
“Why not?” Her expression registers surprise but not disapproval, as I’d feared it might.
“Well, from the beginning, we both instantly recognized one another, and we hit it off really well,” I admit, smiling as I recall the banter we exchanged. How much has taken place since happy hour is mind-boggling.
“Okay?” Zoe presses, gesturing for me to keep the ball rolling.
“Turns out he did go back to Lady Venus and even tried to track me down after I quit.”
Zoe’s jaw drops, her eyes bugging.
“But he only knew my stage name and assumed it was my real name—so obviously, that didn’t work out too well for him.”
“To be honest, I’m kind of proud of Howie to know that he stuck to his guns and wouldn’t give out your information. If your hunky Russian one-night stand was willing to pay you two hundred K for one night, I imagine he tried to buy the information from Howie too.”
