Page 25 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

"Work," she repeats, her tone skeptical. "You've been handling work since you were eighteen years old. You don't get distracted by work."

"I'm not distracted."

"You are," she says firmly. "You've been distracted since you walked through that door. Actually, you look like you've been distracted for days. So either tell me what's going on, or I'm going to assume it's a woman."

I freeze, my spoon halfway to my mouth, and that's all the confirmation she needs.

Her face lights up with a smile that makes me want to sink through the floor. "It is a woman. Rustik, are you finally involved with someone seriously?"

"No," I say too quickly. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

I set down my spoon, trying to figure out how to explain this without actually explaining anything. "I met someone. It was supposed to be casual, just one night. But it's complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"Just complicated," I say, not wanting to get into the details of how Marla managed to sleep with all three pakhans involved in the merger negotiations. With my two best friends. "It doesn't matter. It's over."

My mother studies me for a long moment, her dark eyes seeing far too much. "You don't look like it's over."

"It is," I insist.

She reaches across the table and pats my hand, her touch gentle. "Rustik, you've been alone for a long time. Too long. I know you think you need to focus on the business, on being pakhan, but you're allowed to have a life too. You're allowed to care about someone."

"I don't care about her," I say, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears. "I barely know her."

"But you want to know her," my mother says softly. "I can see it in your eyes. You're thinking about her right now, aren't you?"

I don't answer, which is answer enough.

She smiles, squeezing my hand. "It's okay to be distracted by a woman, Rustik. It's normal. Healthy, even. You've spent so many years being careful and controlled, never letting anyone get close. Maybe it's time to let someone in."

"It's not that simple," I say, pulling my hand back. "The situation is complicated, and getting involved would be a mistake."

"Why?"

"Because it would be," I say, standing up from the table. "I should go. Thanks for dinner, Ma."

She stands too, following me to the door. "Rustik, wait. I'm not trying to push you into anything. I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy."

"I know," I say, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I'm your mother," she says, touching my face gently. "Worrying about you is my job. But for what it's worth, I haven't seen you look this distracted in years. Maybe that's not such a bad thing."

I leave before she can say anything else, getting back in my car and sitting there for a moment. My mother has always been able to see through my bullshit, and tonight was no exception. She's right that I'm distracted—that I can't stop thinking about Marla.

But she's wrong about it being a good thing. Getting involved with Marla would be a disaster, especially now that Alex and Nick are both interested in her too.

The merger negotiations are already complicated enough without adding a woman into the mix.

I should go home, pour myself a drink, and forget about Marla entirely.

Instead, I find myself driving toward the Ivory Wolf.

I tell myself it's just to check on business and make sure everything is running smoothly on a Saturday night. The club is always packed on weekends, and it's not unusual for one of us to stop by and make sure things are under control.

But I know that's not why I'm going. I'm going because I can't stop thinking about her, and maybe if I can find out more about her, I can figure out what the fuck is going on in my head.