Page 10 of Echoes of Sin

Chapter Six

Brooke

Olivio’s was an upscale restaurant that served modern American cuisine, whatever the hell that meant. It was the kind of place that was expensive for no discernible reason, and I wasn’t at all surprised it was where Ilya had chosen for us to meet.

The Ilya I’d known and loved was kind and sweet, charismatic and always ready with a smile that made my toes curl. He was down to earth despite being wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. This man who had Ilya’s name and his blue eyes? He was nothing like that person, and I knew why.

The old Ilya was a lie. He was nothing more than a façade created to get what he wanted from me. I had to give him credit, though, because he’d given me exactly what I didn’t even know I wanted. He was smart back in college, and I could only imagine how that particular skill had grown over the years and helped him increase his family’s wealth.

He's not the Ilya you remember. I repeated those words to myself no less than two dozen times while I waited for the hostess to stop ignoring me. Women like her were another reason I hated places like this. Who was she to look down on me in my business casual attire?

“Excuse me,” I said politely.

She looked up with a bored expression and turned back to her phone.

Okay. I could’ve made a big deal about her bitchy behavior, but I wanted to put off seeing Ilya for as long as I could.

“What the fuck is this about?” Ilya’s voice sounded behind the hostess, and she jumped about three feet in the air. “My guest is right there, yet I have been waiting for her. Is this how you perform your job?”

The woman’s eyes widened, and if she hadn’t been such a bitch, I might have felt sorry for her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kuznetsov, I didn’t know.”

He glanced at me, those blue eyes dark and stormy.

I shrugged. “She told me to wait, so I assumed you weren’t here yet, even though she never asked if I had a reservation.”

“Come on,” he took my hand. “I do not like to be kept waiting.”

I snatched my hand from his. “And I do not like being manhandled. I was here on time but the pretentious hostess at the restaurant you chose decided to ignore me.”

Ilya pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit, which was a move I hadn’t experienced since our study sessions in WVU’s library. His scent was slightly familiar, only more refined.

Not the person you knew. That Ilya was a lie.

“Thank you,” I managed to push out through clenched teeth and a professional smile as he got settled into the seat across from me. The table was intimate and semi-private, which gave me a close up of his matured, masculine beauty. I don’t care about his beauty, I told myself because, apparently, I desperately needed to hear it.

“Okay,” I began. “Each business has its own unique account number, which is how it will be labeled on all reports.”

“Let’s hold off on business talk for a while, Brooke. Tell me about your life these days.”

A cold blade of ice slid down my spine. He wasn’t serious, was he? He couldn’t be. “This isn’t about me, Mr. Kuznetsov, it is about your businesses.”

His lips curled into an irresistible smile that reminded me so much of the younger Ilya that it temporarily stole my breath. “Come on, Brooke. I’m just curious about your life.”

A bitter laugh escaped. “Then you should have called like you said you would, but you never had any intention of that, did you?” Dammit, I didn’t want to show him how much he’d hurt me back then, but it was too late now. “Let’s just get through this so we can both get on with our lives.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes, but it was gone almost immediately.

“The unique identifier makes it easier since many businesses have similar names, and it reduces the risk of typos within any company’s books. I will provide you with reports, first on a weekly basis since these are new businesses, but eventually we can go to monthly or quarterly reports.” I took a break for a breath of air just as the waitress arrived with water and a bottle of wine.

Ilya poured and drank, frowning when I refused. “There is no reason we cannot be friends, Brooke. We were friends at one time.”

“No, we were never friends. You pretended to be perfect to get what you wanted, and you did. Let’s just move on and focus on the present.”

“Are you single?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“Business, Ilya. Our focus is on business and nothing else.” Maybe he felt a sense of ownership since he’d taken my virginity, but I was no longer that shy eighteen-year-old so desperate for someone like him to notice me, to care about me.

“I didn’t use you, Brooke. You were a willing participant.”

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