19
LEAH
“He left me flowers and a diamond bracelet. It matches the necklace.”
Suzie lets out a low whistle after pausing while reading her briefs to watch me pace back and forth across the room.
“A necklace, a bracelet, that incredible green gown for the next party, those amazing shoes, which I am absolutely going to borrow the next time I have someplace to go. Or maybe just to shop, just so you know. I’m going to wear them next time he takes you to Saks, and I expect to get a few things myself. As your best friend who’s basically like a sister, it’s only fair.” Suzie’s only half joking.
“Seriously, though, what do you do with all those flowers? Better question—what are you doing with all those vases?”
“I don’t know. The housekeeper takes them, and I have no idea what she does with them. I mean, there are a zillion rooms and five stories in this place. Maybe there’s a room just for vases.” I answer Suzie’s question, imagining that somewhere in the house is a room dedicated entirely to vases of past bouquets Viktor hasgifted. And then it makes me wonder how many women Viktor has sent these gigantic bouquets to, instead of showing them any type of romantic feelings.
I thought, finally, that Viktor and I had shared a moment. A real moment. A true moment. I mean, he’d said,“I love you.”
Then again, things men say in the throes of passion are rarely the truth.
I’ve never seen a guy jump out of bed as fast as Viktor did. He barely gave me a chance to slide off him before he was up and on his feet. Then he ran off likeIwas the one who saidI love you. No explanation, nothing, just, “I have to get to work,” and then he was gone.
I’d gotten out of the shower after going with Iliya to escort Eliza to school, and I found the bracelet and bouquet waiting for me.
My consolation prize, I suppose.
Viktor hadn’t meant to say, “I love you.” Just like Peter had never truly meant it. Just like Eliza’s father had only said it to get me into bed. And like an idiot, I believed each and every one of them.
“How could I be this stupid over and over again?”
“You’re not stupid,” Suzie sighs.
She puts down her bejeweled cat’s-eye glasses and stands up. She intercepts my pacing halfway across her office and puts her hands on my shoulders, so I have to look her in the eye.
“You’re not stupid, sweetheart. You just want to see the best in people. Your mom was the same way, which is what made her such a fantastic divorce lawyer.”
At the crook of my mouth, Suzie laughs quietly and settles back to sit on her desk, heedless of the papers littering its surface.
“You know the way Savannah was. She saw the best in her clients, which is why she fought so hard for them. I mean, you know what kind of monster Clarissa is, but somehow, she liked your mom, and look at all the concessions she won from an actual freaking mob boss.”
“Mom might have seen the good in everyone, but she had a set of balls on her the size of the Tri-State Area,” I add with a sigh, slumping beside her. Being on my feet for too long was starting to hurt, even though I’d only worn kitten heels to work today. “I don’t have those.”
“Oh, bullshit.” Suzie rolls her eyes. “You’re raising a kid on your own. You left Peter instead of staying with him because you valued yourself and Eliza enough to escape that pig. You’re saving up money to go to law school despite all the craziness in your life. And you’re still here at work and having a baby, and you haven’t curled up and died despite the insanity that is currently your life. I think that takes a certain amount of gumption. Don’t discount yourself.”
Suzie nudges my shoulder with hers, and I laugh despite my mood. “Gumption? What, are we in some 1940s mobster movie now?”
“You tell me.” Suzie nudges my shoulder again. “You’re the one shacking up with an actual mobster.”
I look to make sure the door to her office is closed before I smack her arm and stand. But I still feel uneasy, and Suzie watches as I start pacing again, trying to figure it out.
“He’s trying to buy me off.” The thought suddenly snaps into my head. “Just like my dad. A big check at Christmas and my birthday, as though that makes up for the fact that he left Mom and me, and he never calls or visits and didn’t even come to Mom’s funeral.”
“He’s such a fucking asshole,” Suzie agrees.
“But I think that’s what Viktor’s doing—trying to buy my?—”
My what? My love? My affection? My loyalty? My life and the baby’s? I can’t tell.
Suzie’s mouth compresses into a line; she is at her most patient. “Look who you’re talking about. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to show you he loves you.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t love me. It’s not about love, Suzie.” Now I’m pacing again, but it’s more frenzied and includes wild gestures. “It’s about a transaction; about something he needs, and only I can give him.”
