I know Eliza and Jade will be up for a marathon movie night with popcorn and a bunch of junk food.
“Good.”
“Where do I meet you?”
Viktor leans closer, and my pulse quickens. I can see all the colors in his eyes, the dark blue to the gray to the black, his cologne thick in my nose, his presence taking up all of my senses.
“I will send a car for you.” His tone brooks no argument, but I should say no. I shouldn’t be getting into a strange man’s car. On a first date. No. Not at all. Sounds like a recipe for disaster.
Yet I can't say no.
I want to spend time with this man so badly it's difficult to comprehend. I'm not even sure how I'll be able to get any work done with the thought of dinner and this blue-eyed god on my mind.
“The car will pick you up at 7:15 for an 8 o'clock reservation. Wear something nice.”
“Okay,” I squeak and hate how it sounds.
I rattle off my address and move on with my day.
3
LEAH
“Why didn't you tell me you'd met someone?”
I am not going to tell my early-twenties, pierced and tatted neighbor in front of my seven-year-old daughter that I’m going out on a date with someone I met only that morning and under shocking circumstances.
“He's a client at the firm, so we've been talking for a while.”
Jade cocks her head. “It's not against the rules?”
Damn it.
“It’s a grey area. That's why I didn't tell you about him. But he's not a client anymore, so there's nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, cool.” My neighbor drops onto the bed and bounces on the mattress a few times before throwing herself back, arms spread as she stares up at the ceiling, green-streaked hair splayed around her. “Is the story romantic? I bet it's something like he walked in and saw you making coffee and fell madly in love.”
“Well—” I stall for time as I try to think up an answer that isn't a complete lie. I hate lying, but this is messy territory. “It was something like that. It definitely had to do with coffee.”
Among other things.
From the look Jade gives me as she sits up, she knows that's not the whole story. But for once, she doesn't pry. Instead, she moves on to the real story.
“What's he like? Is he handsome? I bet he's good-looking? Is he rich?
“All of the above, yes.” I turn around from scrutinizing myself in the mirror. “But that's not what's important. The important thing is I enjoyed talking with him, he’s good company, and he's been respectful so far.”
“Unlike your last jerk of an ex?”
“Okay.” Time to change the subject. “I don't like this dress. Let's try another one.”
Eliza darts into my closet before I can make a move, and I hear her rummaging around, pushing hangers over one way and then back another. She emerges a minute later, dragging a dress I'd completely forgotten about—a jeweled green wrap dress I'd splurged on at a Barney’s sale with Mom.
She'd been the one to find it on the rack, and she'd encouraged me to try it on when I was still struggling with my self-image after Eliza's birth. I hadn't been able to take my eyes off myself in the fitting room mirror, and it was the first time I felt like myself again, like maybe I could be desirable again.
And it's still just as beautiful on the hanger it’s been on since the last time I wore it. It was too hard to wear it again after Mom died.
“What about this one, Mom? You’re wearing it in the picture with Grandma.”
