Savina
A COUPLEOF weeks after the amendment, my stepmother plans a dinner date for Pavel and me. I don’t fight her on it, because I actually think it’s a good idea. Maybe the first good idea she’s ever had.
“You two need to get to know each other before the big day,”she had told me while criticizing what I was planning on wearing that night.
I think I would probably die on the spot if that woman ever gave me an actual compliment.
After a lot of deliberation and second-guessing, thanks to my stepmother’s criticism, I ended up settling on a form-fitting, plum-colored dress that makes my green eyes pop, and a pair of nude heels that accentuate my toned legs. I applied some light makeup and took over an hour tediously curling my long, thick hair to make the perfect beach waves. To finish off the look, I donned a few pieces of jewelry — a gold bangle bracelet and a pair of matching earrings.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach on the way to the restaurant. And by the time I arrive, I’m an anxiety-riddled mess. I haven’t been on a date since high school, but it’s not like my entire future was depending on it. This first date with Pavel will be a telltale sign of how our lives will be together. If there’s no spark, no interest there, then I don’t know how I’ll feel about that. I just know that I’m going to allow myself to be open tonight and hope for the best.
Straightening my dress on the way to the restaurant, I thank an older gentleman as he opens the door for me. The place is fancy with murmured conversations floating through the spacious room as light classical music plays through the speakers littered throughout.
The hostess lights up when she sees me, smiling with more teeth than I thought a human could possibly have. “May I help you?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m here for Pavel Sokolov,” I say.
She checks her book and smiles impossibly wider, resembling more of the Cheshire Cat at this point. “Oh, yes, right this way.”
I follow her as she leads me to a private corner at the back of the restaurant. Pavel is sitting on one side of a square table, looking bored as he glances at the menu he’s currently holding in his hands. I take the time to surreptitiously check him out while he’s occupied.
He’s wearing a charcoal gray three-piece suit with perfectly tailored, clean lines. He’s handsome. Objectively. I can admit that. But not in the way his brother is. Whereas Dimitri has all sharp, strong features, Pavel is on the softer side. His cheeks are a little puffier; his jaw a little less defined. He’s cleanshaven while Dimitri always has a five o’clock shadow or stubble. There’s nothing about Pavel that makes my pulse spike or my breath hitch. Instead, I just feel…indifferent. Huh. I definitely don’t feel like I thought I would, but maybe all of that will come with time. I mean, the contract was only amended a week ago. It’s not like my brain has even had time to really process the fact that I’ll be marrying Pavel instead of Dimitri.
Plastering what I hope is a genuine smile on my face, I sit in thechair the hostess pulled out for me and look across the table at Pavel. He glances up and grins, but I can tell it’s forced.
“Hi,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper before I clear my throat. “Been waiting long?” I ask.
He looks at the fancy Rolex on his wrist and then shakes his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes before he hurriedly brushes it away. He stares at me from across the table, and I expect he’s going to compliment me about my dress, but instead he simply says, “Only fifteen minutes or so.”
“Oh,” I say, nodding.
Disappointment must be showing on my face, because he quickly adds, “You look…nice.”
Nice? I look nice? That’s it?!
I have a feeling if I dressed like this for any other man, including his brother, he would be eating out of my hand by the end of the night. And I know for a fact that I definitely wouldn’t have to fish for a simple compliment.
This is definitely not how I saw the night starting off. I can only hope that things turn around and go uphill from here on out.
“I haven’t ordered anything yet, because I wasn’t sure what you would like,” he says before returning his attention to the menu in front of him.
I suppose that was considerate of him. It’s not like we know each other well…or at all really. Staring across the table, I notice Pavel is on the thinner side, definitely not as tall and muscular as his brother, but that doesn’t bother me much. If he has a great personality, which I hope to discover tonight, I don’t really care about muscles and height. He’s still taller than me, which is a plus, and at least I won’t have to strain my neck to look up at him on our wedding day.
The waiter comes to the table and takes our order. Pavel orders the steak with broccolini and I get the salmon with asparagus. He also orders us the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu, and I’m thankful when the sommelier brings it out quickly, carefully pouring us both a glass before leaving us alone.
I raise my wine glass and offer, “A toast to us on our first date.”
Pavel’s lip twitches, and he slowly raises his glass and touches it to mine. “To us,” he murmurs.
Frowning, I pull my glass back and take a sip. I’m not a wine connoisseur by any means, but it tastes good. “Very nice,” I comment.
Pavel hums in agreement but stays quiet.
Minutes tick by excruciatingly slow, and I almost feel like I’m waiting for a dentist appointment rather than on what should be an exciting first date with my future husband.
“So…how old are you?” I ask even though I already know the answer.
“I just turned twenty-three,” he answers.
