“Is this a common occurrence? Leaving the house without your rings when you see Trevor?”
“What are you…” Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”
“Would it make you feel better?” I gritted. “Then yes, I am.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“What? That I’m possessive of my wife?”
I threw her a glance before making a turn for Midtown.
“What’s gotten into you?” There was an exasperated but promising tone in Lucy’s voice. Though I identified jealousy as an emotion other people felt, I’d never identified it as one of my own. I understood possessiveness. But if she perceived me as jealous, I wondered how I could use her reaction to my advantage.
“We’ve taken an adversarial approach to our marriage. It’s getting old.” I cleared my throat. “We agreed to a truce, remember? I thought we could start by spending more time together.”
“But to what purpose?” she asked, her tone bewildered.
“To make the remaining nine months more bearable?” I suggested. “That’s a start, right?”
“I guess…”
Distrust rolled off her in waves. I didn’t know why that made me feel better because, fuck if I would trust me.
I pulled in front of a building owned by the Zahkarovs. It was a mixed-use high-rise. High-end shops and restaurants on the ground floor. Office spaces above them.
“You might not be hungry. But I am.” I got out of the vehicle, rounding the front to help her. Reluctance was engraved in every inch of her body. I could see the cogs of suspicion turning in her brain. But I congratulated myself that for once I had planned an outing free from anything nefarious other than the goal of spending time with her.
I murmured instructions to Sato as he took over the Porsche. I had an errand for him.
The concierge met us in the lobby. “Mr. Zahkarov, we weren’t expecting you.”
“Is the rooftop available?”
“Yes, it’s closed for lunch on Mondays.”
“Then open it. Make sure the heat lamps are on.” It was a beautiful day, but it was still November.
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
“Rooftop?” Lucy asked, brow quirked. She was smiling—faintly—but her brown eyes sparkled with interest. It elicited a grin from me. One of satisfaction that finally, I was getting a genuine smile from her.
We cooled our heels at the bar of the adjacent restaurant that was going to be the caterer of our rooftop date.
Date. Rooftops were romantic, right? And I didn’t have to ask Sato or Aralina or my mother for a suggestion. This was all me.
Lucy was perusing the menu. “Ooh, I think I could munch on a charcuterie board.”
“Great idea.” That would give us an opportunity to talk.
As I made the wine selection with the sommelier, my eyes flitted back surreptitiously to watch Lucy’s changing expressions as she continued to study the extensive menu.
“They’ve got an apple tart with crème fraîche ice cream.”
“I thought you weren’t hungry,” I said, amused.
She smiled impishly. “It’s because the bar is beside the kitchen and I can smell everything.”
“Are you sure a charcuterie board is enough?”
