Yulian’s entire face lights up. His smile stretches across his cheeks, his dimples deeper than usual, his eyes warm chocolate as they stare at me.
“That’s good to know,” he says, stepping towards me and pulling me into a hug. I don’t stop him. I lean into him and press my cheek against his chest to hide the tears.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Chapter 9 - Yulian
My phone is on speaker, sitting on my workbench. His voice is loud as he lectures me. “Look, man, at this point we’re all starting to think that you’re avoiding us on purpose. When did we last actually see you in person? It’s been over a month now.”
Arkady is annoyed. And he’s right. I have been avoiding everyone. Making excuses, changing plans at the last minute, not wanting to leave Katerina alone for even a second.
I tried a few times to meet up with my brothers for an hour or so. I planned to. But then, when it came down to it, I couldn’t leave her. I couldn’t be away from her.
Of course, she knows nothing of this, and my brothers have no idea she’s here, but clearly, I’m going to have to make a change before they show up at the mansion and things play out in ways I can’t control.
“So?” Arkady snaps impatiently.
“Fine, I’ll come to dinner. I’m bringing a plus-one.”
“A what?” he says, his agitation suddenly gone, replaced with curiosity and surprise.
“I’m bringing someone with me,” I repeat.
“I know what a plus-one is. Who are you bringing? Are you seeing someone? What’s going on? Is this why you’ve been so quiet?” He springs a string of questions on me, and I ignore them all. I need to decide how to go about this, but I have time before dinner tomorrow night.
“I’ll see you at seven,” I say curtly.
“Wait, Yulian, who is it?”
I hang up before the conversation can get out of hand. Arkady is like a shark scenting a drop of blood when he gets curious about something. I don’t want to spend an hour on the phone now trying to explain what’s going on. Then I’ll have all of my brothers showing up here in a rage…and chaos. There will be chaos.
All of them can find out at the same time at dinner. It’s better that way.
My phone sits face-up, and the screen tells me it’s almost five. My stomach has been groaning for an early dinner for the past hour, so I set my tools aside and decide to call it a day with the shelving. It’s almost finished, looking really great, actually. Maybe I’ll bring Katerina in here after dinner to show her how it’s coming along.
The past few days have been different between us.
Things changed when I showed her the studio. She’s been happily working on her business plan, her goals, and her process. She has notebooks filled with sketches and ideas.
It’s incredible to see how happy she is. It’s created a glow about her. Her entire aura is shining in a new way.
I walk into the mansion to find her sitting on the living room floor with sketches spread around her. Some are of the workshop, a few changes she wants to make to the layout, and are otherwise of fashion design figures in interesting, brightly colored streetwear with chunky-soled sneakers and long flowing coats that have kimono-esque flavors to them. I’m fascinated by it, but she covers them up before I can get a good look. “They’re not ready yet,” she says shyly. “I don’t want you to think it’s silly without being able to get the full idea. And this is the spring collection with all the colors. There’s still a winter with gray and whites and autumn with greens, and summer…”
“It didn’t look silly to me. It looks provocative and exciting,” I smile. “But show me when you’re ready. I know what it’s like to try and explain a design that’s fully formed in your head but not on paper yet.”
She sits cross-legged on the floor, gathering the papers towards her and putting them into neat piles. “I’m so excited about all of this,” she grins. “Do you maybe have time tonight to sit with me so I can show you the way I want to shift the studio around a bit? Not big changes, just a better layout for me to work with.”
“We can do it after dinner. I’m going to hop in a shower, and then I’m pretty much ready to eat an entire four-person serving of anything at all before I can think clearly again.”
“Hangry?” she teases.
“Getting there,” I smirk. “Oh, tomorrow night we’re going to dinner at my brother’s place. It’s a family thing. Relaxed, casual. We’ll probably get pizza or something. We’ll leave here at six.”
“We?” she asks, her voice growing tight.
“Yes, you’ll be joining me.”
Her expression becomes strained with worry, but she nods. “Okay,” she says nervously.
