“I think it’s safe. I work in business acquisitions.”
“Business acquisitions?” I scrunch up my nose. “That sounds boring. I can’t picture you in a suit and tie sitting behind a desk all day.”
“The way I do business, it’s not boring in the least.” He winks. “What about you? What do you do?”
“Much more adventurous.” I grin. “I’m a preschool teacher.”
He deadpans. “Seriously?”
I laugh. “Yep. I teach three- to five-year-olds their colors, the ABCs, and one-two-threes.”
He runs his thumb along the bottom of his lower lip then chuckles.
“Something against teachers?” I prod when he remains silent.
“Not at all, it’s just that it sounds so innocent.”
“You don’t think I’m innocent?” Pressing my fingers to my chest, I feign insult.
His eyes narrow on me. “Take another sip of your water, Christiana.”
My breath catches momentarily while heat treks up my neck. It’s another test.
One I’m more interested in passing this time.
Slowly, I bring the glass to my mouth. My gaze catches his while I dip my tongue into the water, then swallow a small sip. His eyes remain fixed on me as I run my tongue over my lip, catching the last bead of water before it drips onto my chin.
He clears his throat.
“So my next question. How does a teacher get access to Lush?” He moves my Cranberry drink to his side of the table. A clear indication he thinks I’m done with it for the night.
“My friend over there. Here father is a big deal at a Leviticus Media.”
While it’s completely true, it’s not exactly how I have access. But we’re trying to keep things light and telling him about my brothers, my family, isn’t going to keep things as aloof as we’ve agreed to keep them.
“So sorry to interrupt.” The waiter is back, this time with a folded piece of paper on his server’s tray. “A message for you.”
He presents the tray to Dmitri, who arches a brow as he snaps it up. The waiter sticks around, waiting to see if there’s a response, but all Dmitri does is toss the paper back onto the tray.
“I’m sorry, sir, but she insisted there would be a reply?” The waiter looks as though the collar of his shirt is choking him, the way he moves his head to the side.
Dmitri sighs. “You can tell her my answer is no answer.”
The waiter dips his head. “Of course. I will relay the message.”
“And if she has anything else she wants you to deliver, don’t bother,” Dmitri says.
Sweeping my gaze over the lounge area, I find a woman sitting at the bar staring in our direction. She has shoulder-length red hair, one half of which is swept up and held in place by a diamond barrette. Her dress has a slit on the side exposing her entire right leg, which is crossed over her left.
“I think you have an admirer,” I say into my glass while drinking my water.
He readjusts his position, snubbing her of any attention by giving her his back.
“How often do you play this game, Dmitri?” I place the heavy crystal glass down, loosely gripping it with my fingertips. “With women?”
“There is no game. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say.”
I glance back at the woman. The waiter has given her Dmitri’s response and her body tightens.
