I wondered briefly what he was up to. Last I’d heard, Mikhail—that cold-hearted, cruel Russian—had tossed Sasha onto another babysitting gig somewhere downtown. Whoever was dealing with him now had my sympathy. Poor bastard was probably getting dragged on sunrise runs and forced into drinking something green and disgusting that tasted like freshly mowed grass.
Better them than me.
He paused briefly to wipe his mouth, and I hoped to God he was done. But nope. He kept going as if he had an endless supply of financial advice no one had asked for.
“I’m telling you, passive income is life-changing. If you can secure even one investment property?—”
I couldn’t help but think about what Sebastian would do if he heard this conversation. Probably throw back three glasses of bourbon, made some sly remark, then pick a fight just for entertainment. Marco, on the other hand, would’ve sat there with that flat, unamused stare, probably calculating how quickly he could choke the guy out with his tie.
The image almost made me smile.
Ryan was still talking. Dear God, he was still talking.
I sighed inwardly, twirling the stem of my glass between my fingers. It was just one glass, and I’d only ordered it when I’d started to fall asleep—which, to be fair, was approximately fifteen minutes into his lecture on mortgage-backed securities. I needed something to numb the mind, and unfortunately, alcohol was my go-to method.
I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. I’d sat through the meetings, collected my chips, smiled at strangers like I believed everything they said. I’d even tolerated Sasha’s lectures about my “destructive tendencies” and “the power of healthy choices.”
But listening to Ryan ramble on about passive income? It was either the wine or clawing my own eyes out.
And I liked my eyes. They were one of my better features.
“Valentina?”
My attention snapped back to the world’s most boring date. “Hmm?”
“I asked if you had any thoughts on investing,” he repeated patiently, as if I were the one wasting his evening.
“Oh.” I smiled sweetly. “I’m more of a spending type, really. Assets bore me.”
His smile fell—just a bit, but enough to satisfy me. At least one of us was finally reading the room.
He didn’t ask much about me. Just enough to be polite. Just enough to make sure I wouldn’t embarrass him if he took me somewhere with his friends.
That was fine.
I wasn’t here to be interesting, and neither was he, apparently.
When the check came, he didn’t hesitate to pay.
I leaned back. “So what do you think?”
He raised a brow. “About?”
“About me. About this.”
He smiled. That same easy, practiced smile. “I think you’re stunning.”
Stunning. Not interesting. Not funny. Not someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. Just stunning. I knew I wouldn’t get love out of this arrangement, but still, I figured it’d be more thanthat.
I already knew how this ended. I pushed back my chair and stood, reaching for my coat.
Ryan looked surprised. “No dessert?”
I smiled. “I’m watching my figure.”
His eyes flicked down my body before he caught himself. “Right. Well, can I see you again?”
“No.”
