Her smile was real, and she seemed… grounded. Like someone who didn’t need to be anything but herself. However, her red slip dress and maroon lips highlighted the hint of power and danger beneath her smile.
She has to have Bratva ties, I’m sure.
“And I’m not even jealous she’s your best friend, and I’m not,” she told Anya, who giggled, shaking her head.
“Neither am I jealous she’s your forever friend,” I said.
“Okay, I like her,” Elena declared, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
Ah, I like her.
“Are you done fighting over me, then?” Anya teased.
“Mila, you’re a freelancer. I hope the American marketspace isn’t too jampacked? How has it been?” Elena inquired, her curious gaze on me.
“Jampacked is one word for it, but it has good and bad days. There are days when it looks like work won’t stop. And then, there are weeks when it’s like there’s been a bansomewhere. It gives me flexibility, just that it’s the limited kind. I can’t say I don’t like it, though.”
“Liking it is what matters the most.”
“She likes it a bit too much,” Anya chipped in.
“That makes it sweeter,” Elena practically crooned, and I chuckled, giving my best friend a half shrug.
“I bet you’re killing it as a lawyer.,” I told Elena.
“Ah, I like to think I am. Between figuring out what I want to focus on and doing the norm, it’s not kicking my ass.”
“That’s good. It gets clearer with time… sometimes,” I said, making the three of us giggle.
“Bitter truth, though,” Elena agreed before asking Anya, “Did you get Ian’s text? The sly dog.”
As they talked and giggled about a friend who clearly couldn’t make it to the party, I emptied my glass. That was when my eyes met his again.
Oh, God. Why?
We had both changed positions, so why didn’t he fix his attention on anyone or anything else?
The vibration I felt along my spine made me wonder if he felt anything, too. I blinked but couldn’t look away. His eyes didn’t move either. His gaze was steady, like he was doing the most ordinary thing.
Maybe he’s just trying to remember where he met me.
Maybe I just look familiar, and he doesn’t remember me as his sister’s friend?
But the heat in his expression told me that wasn’t it at all.
“Mila!” Anya’s voice forced my gaze off the man across the room.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was saying we should circle back before either of us leaves, yeah?” Elena said.
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“It was lovely meeting you, Mila.”
“Same here.”
As Elena left, I turned to Anya. “I like her.”
