Page 26 of One Last Shot

My spine stiffens. “I have a life, and a career. I can’t just walk away from them. Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t move to New York, and it’s unfair of you to ask me to.”

I glance over at him and there’s a flash of pain in his eyes.I do want to help you, I almost say. But I bite my tongue instead, because I don’t know how to help him without hurting myself.

“I know this is a big ask ...”

“A big ask is ‘Hey, can you watch my kid for a week while I go on vacation.’ This is life-changing. A fake marriage that needs to be real? A kid to adopt? Getting you US citizenship? You’re not talking about helping you out. You’re talking about me changing everything, giving up much of what I’ve worked for over the past few years, relocating ...”

“Petra, I don’t know what else to do. The thought of Stella ever ending up with her aunt and uncle ...” He trails off as his body visibly shudders.

And as if they knew we were talking about them, a doorbell sound chimes inside the apartment.

Aleksandr rolls his eyes skyward. “That’s Martin letting me know they’re here.”

I quickly set the spider trap on the ground, lift the glass, and then pick up the paper after the small spider scurries away. When I stand, I feel like I’m going to face a firing squad—I don’t even know these people, I’m not sure why I am involved, or why I care what they think.

“Can you get Stella and I’ll entertain them? I don’t want you to be stuck with them while I get her.”

Even though I still don’t think they can be as bad as he’s making them out to be, it sounds like he’s giving me the better end of the bargain. “No problem,” I tell him.

He opens the door to the solarium. “First door on the right leads to the guest bedroom. When you come out in the hall, Stella’s room is to the right.” With that, he turns and heads back through the door to the sitting room and is gone.

CHAPTER8

ALEKSANDR

The ten minutes of small talk with CeCe and Tony are excruciating.

A socialite, a businessman, and an athlete walk into a dinner party ... it’s like the beginning of a bad joke. They’re only here to see Stella, and I can tell they don’t want to be talking to me any more than I want to be talking to them.

“Maybe I should go check on Stella,” CeCe suggests when we get tired of staring at each other.

“I’m sure Petra has it under control.”

I can practically see her proverbial ears perk up under all those blond hair extensions. “Oh, your new nanny has started already?”

“No. Petra’s a childhood friend of mine and Niko’s, and she’s in town this week.” I do worry that if Petra decides to go along with this plan, having introduced her as a friend rather than as my wife will have been a mistake. But it’s what I agreed to, so here we are.

“Oh, how delightful.” CeCe’s words couldn’t be more at odds with the look on her face.

Petra’s husky laugh carries into the living room from the entryway as she and Stella make their way toward us. The sound of her voice does uncomfortable things to the knot in the pit of my stomach. Having her here is both a relief and a worry—a contradiction, just like the woman herself.

I’m still looking at CeCe when they enter the room behind me, and I see the way her eyes bulge and her mouth hangs open in shock. She’s never flustered, so I turn my head to see what she’s gaping at.

“Cecelia?” Petra says, every bit as in shock as CeCe.

“Oh my God, Petra!” CeCe says as she rushes out of her seat and toward Petra.

They give each other a kiss on each cheek, but Petra’s look is one of cool detachment. Even as I wonder how they know each other, I can tell she doesn’t like CeCe one bit. I don’t think CeCe can tell though, because she always assumes everyone adores her. I glance back at her husband Tony, who’s still in his seat next to the one she vacated, sipping his scotch. His eyes do light up when he looks over at Stella, who CeCe has not yet even acknowledged, though she stands next to Petra holding her hand. As if she senses Tony’s eyes on her, Stella scurries over to me and curls up into my lap, resting her head on my chest.

“You’re Stella’s aunt?” Petra says, practically stupefied. If she’s anything like the teenager I once knew, she’s hard to rattle. What is it about CeCe that has her so on edge?

“Yes, my older sister Colette ...” CeCe trails off, as if it’s too painful for her to continue. In reality, Colette was five years older, they ran in different social circles, and hardly saw or spoke to each other. Neither Colette nor Niko ever told me what had happened between her and her sister, but I knew it was bad enough that Colette didn’t want her sister anywhere near her child.

“I’m so sorry about Colette and Niko,” Petra says, “I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you.”

“Well, at least we still have little Stella to remind us of her,” CeCe says, then glances around, looking for the girl who’s allegedly the object of her affection but whom she hasn’t deigned to notice until it suits her storyline.

“She’s a jewel, for sure,” Petra says, offering Stella the only sincere smile she’s seen since her aunt and uncle arrived.