She’s nervous of me. I get that. But it’s so obvious she wants me. The way she moved against me, those soft, sweet moans that spilled from her lips as she kissed me. That’s a response that tells me how she really feels. At least physically, anyway.
As far as her other emotions towards me go…well…I’m still trying to be patient with regard to that.
I watched her with my family, though. Seeing how well she got along with them and how easily they gave in and accepted her—I think it pushed my obsession to a new level. If they can accept us being together, then everyone can.
It’s not just some delusional idea I’ve been clinging onto.
I pick up a piece of scrap wood and toss it across the room into a bin standing against the wall. Sawdust clouds up and then settles again. The pieces catch the sunlight as they drift back down.
I can be patient waiting for Kat. I have all the time in the world for her. I’d give her everything I have. But what’s bothering me is that I know, any day now, the Kroliks are going to come knocking on my door. It won’t be long. I haven’t been hiding her. I haven’t been keeping her a secret. We’ve been out in public in numerous places. My family knows she’s with me, and I didn’t exactly tellthemit was a secret, either. People have seen us. A lot of people.
And in my world, information spreads like wildfire over dry grassland pushed by a gentle breeze. People love talking about other people. And if anyone recognized who she was, a Krolik with an Andreev…well, that kind of information would spread ten times faster.
I’m actually surprised her brother hasn’t already contacted me and demanded I send her back to him.
Or just come bursting in here, guns blazing. That would be more of a Krolik-style entrance. Shoot now, overreact, ask questions later. Or never.
Missing Katerina makes me restless, but worrying about her family coming and taking her away from me makes it much worse. It’s not even my safety I’m worried about. It’s just losing her, I can’t deal with. I don’t want to face that. I refuse to.
The agitation is getting to me, and I decide if I only have her with me for a short amount of time, I should spend as much of it with her as possible. The closer we become, the more chance I have of making this something real. Something lasting.
Watching her through a camera isn’t enough for me.
I shower quickly, pulling on some clean black jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt before I shrug my leather jacket on and head to the car. She might be busy, but I could hang around and pretend to be working on the renovations, even though they’re all done. Renovations always need a few touch-ups here and there. All I want is to be close to her.
Her studio is close to home. Obviously, that was done on purpose.
Within fifteen minutes, I’m parking outside the center and making my way towards her, already feeling better because I’m going to see her.
When I walk in, Katerina is wearing a white dress that sits above her knees, tight around her body with long sleeves and a low-dipped neckline. She’s paired it with crisp white sneakers for a young, feminine look. She looks fresh and professional, and absolutely stunning.
There is a client talking to her about a dress she wants designed for an upcoming wedding she has to attend.
“It’s a red-themed wedding. I can’t imagine why anyone would want ared-themedwedding, and with my skin tone, I don’t know how I’m going to pull off the harshness of red,” the woman grumbles, and I take note of how pale she is.
Katerina doesn’t miss a beat. She shakes her head, smiling calmly, “There are so many ways to tone red down, to make it softer and more elegant. Seeing as you don’t have a choice and have to wear that color, we’ll make it work for you by choosing the right shade of red for you, and very soft, flowing fabrics. I assure you, you’ll feel confident and beautiful at the wedding. Why don’t you come in tomorrow morning, and I’ll have a few samples of different shades of red that we can color-match to your skin. I’ll also put together some rough sketches of what I envision for you.”
“Oh, really? You sound so confident that you’ll make red work for me,” the client laughs.
“I am confident. You’ll be wearing that color as you chose it yourself.”
Standing to the side, I wait for her to finish talking and walk the client to the door. I’m impressed with her. She handled herself incredibly well, and the way she spoke to her client made me excited to see what she would come up with for the woman.
Katerina walks back into the studio, smiling at me, happy and filled with purpose.
“Yulian,” she grins. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“I heard there was a brilliant new young designer in town, and I need a suit designed for a gala I’m attending.”
She catches on quickly.
“Is that so? It just so happens that I’m the new young designer, and I’d be happy to assist you with your fashion needs,” she giggles, her cheeks flushing a soft, beautiful shade of pink.
“You might be too expensive for me. From what people are saying, you’re very exclusive, only taking on the most elite clients.” I cock my head to the side, folding my arms over my chest with a smirk on my lips.
“Is that what they’re saying?” she laughs shyly. “Well, as someone who invested in my business, I highly doubt you’ll be charged anything at all.”
Katerina walks over to me, a professional smile on her face, her lips glossed and beautiful.
