They fit the scene. The wealth, the ease, the aesthetic of it all. She looks like she belongs beside him at galas and charity auctions and whatever terrifying old-money social rituals people like them perform.
I don’t. A heavy feeling settles in my chest.
He inclines his head as she says something. Even from a distance, I can tell he’s being polite. Attentive. Controlled.
And suddenly I don’t want to watch anymore.
Because if I stay here long enough, I’ll start imagining things. Start measuring every gesture. Start hurting myself on details I was never supposed to care about.
I take a step backward. Straight into someone.
I gasp as a tray rattles behind me. Strong hands catch it just before disaster strikes, and I turn with a whispered, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry?—”
The waiter gives me a strained smile, but it’s too late.
I already know. I feel it before I see it. I look up.
And across the terrace, Aleksei is watching me.
He saw. Of course, he saw.
Heat floods my face so fast it makes my eyes sting. Marina turns slightly in her chair, following his line of sight, and I want the earth to open up and swallow me whole.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
I just got caught spying on my boss’s date like a lunatic.
I mumble another apology to the waiter and back away, heart pounding, humiliation roaring through me as I turn to flee back inside.
I don’t stop until I’m inside the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind me with a hard click.
For one second I just stand there, both hands braced on the marble counter, chest heaving. The room is too bright, too clean, all pale stone and gold fixtures and the quiet hum of hiddenventilation. My reflection in the mirror looks like a woman on the verge of losing it.
My cheeks are burning. My throat aches. I blink hard, but the tears still come, hot and humiliating.
“Oh my god,” I whisper to myself. “Get it together.”
I grip the edge of the sink tighter.What the hell is wrong with me?
I came here to do a job. I arranged the date. I followed him out like some jealous idiot. Then I got caught staring at him with another woman like I had any right to care.
A tear slips free. I wipe it away angrily, but that only makes more threaten to fall. I laugh once, sharp and shaky, because this is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
And then the bathroom door opens behind me.
I freeze, as I catch sight of the intruder in the mirror.
Aleksei.
He closes the door quietly behind him, his gaze fixed on me, dark and unreadable. For a second I’m too surprised to move. Then I spin around, my pulse stuttering all over again.
“What are you doing here?” It comes out breathless, wrecked.
He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me. At the tears I’m clearly trying and failing to hide. At the way my hands are trembling.
I swallow hard and shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I say, the words tripping over each other. “I didn’t mean to, I just—I wasn’t—I only came out because—” My voice breaks.
Mortifying.
