His finger circled the rim of the flute. “Any plans of taking the bar?”
“Frankly, I’m not sure. I haven’t been practicing law at all, not even paralegal work.”
He reached across the table and held my left hand, his thumb gliding over the ring. There was possessiveness in the way he was looking at me. “I want to make this work. Arguing all the time will get old. It’s a no-brainer, but Irina had to remind me I have to get to know you. I’ve never done this before…this dating…thing. So, you’ll have to take the lead in this.”
“I don’t know…”
Just then, our server returned with the first course. The glazed oysters with osetra.
I nodded at the tiny but expensive plate. “You’re doing pretty well.”
“When you said you were going to plan our outings to make the Kings believe our engagement, what were some dates you were thinking of?”
So over the course of the delicious lunch, I told Kirill about the movie nights with my cousins, maybe a dinner cruise on a yacht. Visits to art galleries.
“An associate of mine is having a gallery opening next month,” Kirill said over the lamb course. “That’s something we frequently attend since Irina is a patron of the arts.”
I hated that my mind went to money laundering because that was something my own brother did. Art pieces were frequent investments because they were one of the few assets that were recession-proof.
“Oh, that would be lovely.” I did my best to smile.
I couldn’t say the lunch conversation went smoothly, but it was better than I expected given how Kirill and I frequently sniped at each other. We were struggling to meet a middle ground to make the marriage bearable because he was right. It could be exhausting to be at each other’s throats all the time. We could learn to be husband and wife. Spending time together, lazy Sunday afternoons. Rainy days indoors. Who knew if at the end of it all we might not become lovers, but at least we could be friends.
The chef poked his head in. He seemed to know Kirill because they shook hands vigorously.
“I trust the lunch was excellent.”
“Everything was fabulous,” I replied, and I meant it.
“Excellent as usual, Arturo,” Kirill said.
Chef Arturo looked at me apologetically. “Do you mind if I steal your man for a few minutes?”
There was a trace of apology on Kirill’s face. “Is it okay, Lucy?”
“Of course,” I said. Probably business talk or whatever talk. After they left, I decided to use the facilities.
The restaurant appeared to be doing brisk business as I walked through the main dining room, which was lavishly appointed with crystal chandeliers and dark wood amidst brass trimmings. Impressionist artwork and imported ceramic vases on pedestals peppered a wide hallway. I refreshed my makeup and lipstick.
When I exited the ladies’ room, I spied the driver of the SUV following us. The soldier who was with Sato earlier. He was hurrying across an intersecting hallway. Curious where it led, I walked toward it instead of the opposite direction that would be my path back to our private room.
I peeked around the corner, around another pedestal and a gigantic oriental vase. There was a hallway lined with two roomsand doors with frosted panels. One of them was slightly ajar. Voices filtered my way. I swallowed. Was I going to do this?
Yes.
Quiet as my heeled shoes would allow, I approached the room with the slightly open door.
Kirill’s deep baritone was unmistakable.
My stomach sank. My fiancé was doing business while on a supposed date with me.
Was it premeditated or impromptu?
I inched closer.
An unfamiliar voice spoke, “You’ll get the payment when the shipment arrives tonight.”
“I’ll personally see to it that the docks are cleared for receipt.”
