“I enjoy cooking and reading. I like to do cross-stitch and play the piano.”
Liar! You hate that crap!
“And she’s quite good at ballet and can speak several languages,” Robert adds. I risk a look at him, and he smiles, seeming at ease with the way the conversation is going. I’ve never had to speak about myself before, and it feels strange.
Chin up, Wren, shoulders back,I remind myself.
“Oh, really? Ty govorish po-russki?” Ivan asks eagerly if I speak Russian.
“Da,” I say with what I hope is an appropriate smile and nod of my head.
“Mozhet, odnazhdy ty stantsuyesh dlya menya?”
“Perhaps,” I reply in English to his question about me dancing for him one day. I actually hate ballet; it feels too structured and rigid, like the rest of my life. And it isn’t something I’d ever performed for anyone before.
“Wren, why don’t you play the song you’ve been working on for us?” Robert gestures to the piano, and I perk up, looking for a reason to get away from this intimidating man.
“Of course.” Glad to get a breather from Ivan, I quickly move to the grand piano in the corner of the room and get myself settled at the keys. Once I’m ready, I start playing. The song, called ‘Dark Eyes,’ flows smoothly, almost romantically. I let my body sway a little as I play, and when I press the final note, a huge smile fills my face.
I nailed it.
I turn to the two men and realize Ivan is standing right beside the piano now, looking at me with something burningin his eyes. I’m not sure what it is; it reminds me of the way Carlos looks at me, but it’s deeper, stronger.
Scarier.
I turn my gaze to Robert, unsure what to do, and he offers me a smile of approval, making me relax a fraction. “That was beautiful, Wren. I can tell you’ve been practicing,” he tells me with a nod.
It wasn’t like I had anything else to do. Well, besides cross-stitching, ballet lessons, cooking, and cleaning, that is.
“Thank you, Robert.”
“Impressive,” Ivan says with a slow nod, before turning to Robert, approval shining in his eyes. “Very impressive. I think we have some things to discuss.”
Robert smiles before turning back to me. “Why don’t you head to bed now? I’ll see you for breakfast at seven-thirty.”
“Yes, sir.” I stand and move toward him, and he bends down, letting me give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Robert. Thank you for allowing me to join you tonight.”
“Goodnight, Wren.”
“It was nice to meet you, Ivan,” I say, making sure to keep my distance from the man as I offer him a small curtsy.
“The pleasure was all mine.” Humor dances in his eyes as I turn and exit the room as fast as I can without looking too eager to leave.
Don’t run, don’t run.
It takes everything I have not to dart up the stairs to my bedroom, not because I want to get away from Ivan that badly, although I do, but because I know what awaits me there.
Stepping into my room, I close my door slowly, not wanting to slam it accidentally. Then I lock it and run to mydesk, pulling out the white envelope addressed to me as excitement shoots through me.
The letter arrived earlier today, but I couldn’t risk being caught with it. Nobody ever interrupts me after I’ve gone to bed, though, so I knew if I waited until now, I’d be able to read and reply in peace.
I lay the envelope gently on my bed, anticipation bubbling in my chest as I rush to change into my silk pajamas. I actually hate silk; it gets all sweaty and sticks to me. Give me a cotton shirt to sleep in any day. Unfortunately, I don’t get to choose my own clothes. And if wearing silk makes Robert happy, even if he rarely sees me in it, then I am glad to wear it.
Sort of… Kind of…Maybe not so much happy to wear it as I was happy to meet his approval. That was all I ever wanted, his approval and happiness.
After brushing my teeth, I grab a stack of paper, a pen, and rush into bed, pulling the comforter over my legs as I get settled against the headboard.
Grabbing the envelope, I stare at my name, recognizing Sly’s handwriting.
