Page 31 of Vengeful Vows

He bands his arm around my shoulders before he twists me around to face Ark’s apartment. I try to dig my heels into the carpet. It is a woeful waste of time. Rafael is too strong, and I’m not exactly putting up a fight.

I’ve been dying to see how the other half lives, and with Tillie already in bed, why not live a little?

When I enter the foyer, I anticipate being hit with narrowed glares and snarled lips.

To my surprise, my arrival goes relatively unnoticed. The only person who pays me any attention is the blonde from earlier, the one who had a date with Ark in the conference room of this building.

“Did you two officially meet?” Rafael asks after stealing a glass of champagne from a server’s tray and handing it to me. “Or did I hatch my ruse too early for an introduction?”

“Ah…”

I’m saved from looking like a blubbering idiot when he waves the blonde over. Her excitement about his wordless invitation announces she is clueless that Rafael orchestrated her demise, or she doesn’t care.

I don’t know how the latter could be plausible. I was devastated to have lost Ark’s attention, and I’m to blame for the injustice.

I guess she has no reason to fret. She is gorgeous and successful. I could never compete with her.

As Rafael offers an introduction, I wipe my riled expression. “Veronika, this is Mara, the woman I told you about earlier.”

Veronika’s mouth falls open as she playfully slaps Rafael’s chest. “You weren’t joking, Raf. She’s totally gorg.”

Gorg?

I’m left floundering when another faultless specimen joins our trio. This woman is brunette and approximately the same age and height as me. “Who is your designer?” She lowers her familiar eyes to my skirt, their trek slow as she takes in the outfit I handcrafted. “That stitchwork is impeccable, and I’ve not seen that fabric anywhere. Is it vintage?”

“Ah. It’s a c-custom piece.” I’m such a liar. The fabric is from one of Mrs. Lichard’s old tablecloths. She was throwing it out, assuming the material was useless since it had a tear. I made myself a skirt and Tillie two dresses from the one swatch of material. “I made it.”

“You made it?” Veronika bumps the unnamed brunette out of the way when I bob my head. “Very mode. I totally approve.” She twists her torso to face Rafael like he oversees my schedule. “She must accompany me to the boutique to help pick out some items.” Her whine reminds me of the tantrums Tillie used to undertake when she was five. “Please,Raffy. She clearly has an eye for fashion.” Her eyes return to me, begging and wet.“Wilfred Iwona’s garments are exceptional, but the stitchwork doesn’t show this skill level. If you could fix them for me, I’ll never be on another worst dressed list.”

“Wilfred Iwona?” I choke on my words instead of stuttering them. “You’re go-going to Wilfred Iwona’s invitation-only boutique?”

“Uh-huh,” Veronika answers, clearly impressed I know who she is referencing. “And you could be there right with me if you say yes.”

I nod before considering the consequences of my actions. Then I shift it to a headshake.

“I can’t. I have to work.”

The unnamed brunette’s interests are as piqued as Veronika’s impeccably manicured brow. “Making more custom pieces?”

“Ah. No. I?—”

“Will be there with bells on.”

Veronika claps, missing the scald I hit Rafael with from acting as if he is my boss.

“I can’t go with her. I can’t mi-miss more days of work,” I whisper to Rafael when he guides me away from Veronika and her equally attractive friend.

“Then I guess it is lucky doing anything I ask is now a part of your job description.”

Huh?

He waves at two blondes eyeballing him from the other side of the den before lowering his eyes to me. They’re full of mischievousness but, somehow, still friendly. “Ark hired you to service his apartment permanently until he returns to Moscow later in the year.”

Excitement scuttles through my veins.

They’re overrun by disappointment only seconds later.

It isn’t solely the knowledge Ark has no intention of making Myasnikov his home that has me floundering. I am wondering if his company has a strict nonfraternization policy like the one that the maintenance and cleaning department in the Chrysler building undertakes.

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