Lawrence already has a table when I arrive at the café we agreed to meet for lunch today. It’s been a favorite of mine since Sasha brought home a box of pastries weeks ago, and I make a mental note to order him some to go as I make my way to my seat.
Even though we’ve stayed in touch via texts and calls, I haven’t seen Lawrence since that first day we met outside Henry’s office, and he looks…different. He’s not nearly as polished as he was when we met. His attire makes sense, considering he’s having a casual lunch with me instead of meeting with the CEO of the Sinclair enterprise, but it’s more than that. From his unkept hair and unshaven face to his posture, he looks rough. There’s an air about him that feels more dangerous than friendly.
Regardless, I greet him as I did the day we met and sigh a breath of relief when he returns my kindness. He’s just as friendly as before, and I feel guilty for my initial judgment. As the meal progresses, I loosen up even more. In California, I was constantly meeting new people, but I’ve been living in Blanche’sbubble with Sasha for so long, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to make new friends.
Thinking of Lawrence as a friend seems odd, but the only other people I’ve met in this city have been the Sinclairs and Sasha. And he’s technically the reason I met the Sinclairs in the first place. Had he not helped secure my job with Blanche, I doubt Sasha and I would have met.
Lawrence wiggles his eyebrows. “Ooo, I know what that smile means. You’ve found someone special, haven’t you?”
I haven’t told anyone about Sasha yet, considering my best friend is gone for the next year. The thought of tellinganyonethe details of our relationship causes me to blush.
“Oh, you’ve definitely got a boyfriend. Give me all the details!”
“He’s not myboyfriendnecessarily. I mean, we are together, but it’s new, so we haven’t gotten around to putting titles on anything. But yes. There is someone. Someoneveryspecial.”
“Go on…”
“I met him when Mrs. Sinclair hired me. Most days, I, um, work with him as well as Blanche.” Lawrence’s brows draw in confusion. “You may know him or at least know of him. His sister married Henry Sinclair.”
Whatever confusion once painted Lawrence’s expression is instantly gone as his face turns a dark red. The kindness in his eyes has vanished as well. I freeze in my seat at the sudden change in his character and am reminded of my earlier instinct. The silence between us seems to last forever, and I can’t help but break it.
“I’m…I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“Please tell me you're not in a relationship with Alexsandr Taranov," he spits out.
“No, I don't know him...I'm with Sasha Taranov. Are they related? Sasha never mentioned a brother."
Lawrence cuts me off. "You foolish girl. Sasha is the Russian diminutive of Alexsandr. Of course a slut like you would spread your legs without knowing the man's real name."
I look down at my fidgety hands, nervous to make eye contact with the now very scary man sitting across the table from me that I realize I barely even know at all. “Um…Yes actually. That’s him. Do you kno—”
“Yes! I fucking know him.” Lawrence yells, slamming his fists down on the table. He lowers his voice when every one turns to look at us, but the danger blaring in his eyes only grows. He takes several deep breaths, and I see the moment a thought flashes in his mind.
“This could actually work out quite well, Ms. Sommers.” His grin turns menacing as he fixes me with his gaze. “You might be the exact thing I need to get a leg up on that motherfucker.”
His insult to my Sasha inspires bravery. Sitting up straight, I fix him with a look of my own.
“Excuse me, Mr. Lawrence, but you have no right to talk about Sasha like that. And you will absolutely not be using me for a damn thing. I won’t be a pawn in whatever stupid game you think you're playing with him.”
His deep laughter is villainous as he leans back in his chair, eyeing me down. “Oh, you’re not going to help me, are you? And what makes you think you have a choice?” When I don’t respond, he continues. “You listen, and you listen good, you little good-for-nothing whore. Youwillhelp me get out of the debt I owe Sasha Taranov. Because if you don’t, I’ll march right up to your preciousSinclairsand tell them the real reason you’ve been working with them. Does your boyfriend know? Does he? I know you haven’t told Blanche that you’re only there to see if you are the bastard child of her dead husband, but does Sasha know? I happen to know exactly how protective he is of his family. I guarantee you the moment he finds out that your existence inhis life could potentially cause distress to his beloved sister, he’ll kick you to the curb.”
“That’s not true…” I try to say confidently, but it comes out barely louder than a whisper.
“You’re nothing to them, do you understand me? Sasha Taranov has never and will never love anyone but his family, and you’re a threat to that stability. So unless you want me to tell him exactly what you’ve been up to, you’re going to do every fucking thing I tell you to. I’ll let you know what our next move is.”
He gets up and leaves the café, leaving me alone at the table with nothing but my thoughts.Fuck,he’s right. Sasha has just started trusting me, and all the while I’ve been keeping this huge secret from him. I didn’tmeanto. At first, I didn’t tell him because I didn’t know or trust him either, but recently, I’ve genuinely just forgotten all about it. I haven’t really thought of anything important in our little love bubble. Especially not the sadness and loneliness I felt when I decided to track down the Sinclairs in the first place. He has more than filled that void.
I know that if I want this relationship to move forward, I have to tell him. Today. I know he’ll understand. I truly haven’t meant any of the Sinclairs any harm. I’ve just wanted to find my family. I’ve been without one for so long, I just wanted to feel like I belonged. And as much as I know he cares about me, I’m confident he will forgive me.
Paying the bill, I grab my to-go box. If Lawrence thinks he’s going to use me to get to Sasha, he has another thing coming. I would rather lose the man I love than ever do anything to hurt him.
Chapter twenty-three
“Sasha!”
I barely have a moment to brace myself before Katarina launches herself at me full-speed, squeezing so tightly I’m briefly concerned I’ll pass out.
“KitKat. Can’t. Breathe,” I wheeze. She releases me, and I dramatically suck in air, earning a punch to the stomach.
