Page 13 of Nikolai

I sigh. Alba is right. It's been a couple of weeks since she gave birth to her and Gabriel's son, Gabe. Not only has Alba been recovering from that, but she has also been getting over the ordeal with her stalker who broke into her home, beat her, and nearly killed Gabriel's sister, Leyna. Luckily, Alba and Leyna are both on the mend.

"I promise I'm coming this time. Now, I need to get off the phone before I get into trouble for taking personal calls at work."

"Fine," Alba huffs. "Just know that if your booty is not here later like promised, I will hunt you down and drag you out of that apartment."

"Okay, okay. I'm hanging up now." Alba's giggle is the last thing I hear before disconnecting the call. I figured that's why she was calling me at work. Here I wouldn't be able to dodge her like I have been when she calls Sam. And I have flaked on going to visit her. I went to see her right after she got home from the hospital, but that was it. Now she wants me to come to the clubhouse this evening for dinner. Just thinking about it makes me uneasy. I'm not good with people, especially large groups of people. And Alba said everyone would be there. On that thought, my mind drifts to a certain someone, and I wonder if he will be in attendance. Nikolai. I can't take being around my new boss more than I already am. God, that man is scary intense. Not that he does anything for me to be afraid of him. It's more about this look he gets. I can't explain it. It's like he has a storm brewing behind his eyes. Eyes that glue to me and demand my attention, yet warn me to stay away at the same time. Over the years, I have perfected the craft of becoming invisible; at staying under the radar. Not that boys ever gave me much thought. Being the awkward, chubby girl doesn't get you noticed by guys. But when I met Nikolai the other day, the intensity in his eyes made me feel he wasn't looking at the shy fat chick. For a fraction of a second, something flashed across his face, and it was like he liked what he saw in front of him. A look that was gone just as quick as it showed. It was a ridiculous notion anyway, a man who looks like that being interested in someone like me. Let's not address the fact I can't bring myself to look directly at his face when he speaks to me. I find myself looking at his shoulder or his chest. Sometimes I pretend to pick at a piece of imaginary lint on my shirt. Nikolai Volkov is gorgeous. He stands at 6 feet 2 inches tall. Has dirty blond hair shaved close on the sides on long on top that compliments his blond beard perfectly. And don't get me started on his unique eyes: one green and one blue.

The ringing of the phone knocks me out of my stupor. Picking it up, I answer, "Kings Construction, can I help you?"

"Hey, Leah."

"Hi, Sam. You need to talk to Nikolai?"

"Naw. I called to see if you wanted some lunch. I'm making a run to the lumber yard but can swing by and drop something off for you on my way through town."

"No. I brought my lunch."

"You sure? You don't have to pack your lunch every day. I don't mind bringing you a burger or something."

"Yeah. I'm good, Sam, but thanks."

"Alright, sweetheart. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Sam."

After hanging up the phone, I note the time. I'm allowed an hour lunch break every day at noon. Reaching under the desk for my bag, I pull out the plastic container I packed away in there this morning. Popping the lid off, I swipe one of the carrot sticks and take a bite. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine it's a juicy hamburger. I huff, taking another bite. Sadly, it doesn't work. The bitter taste of the carrot rolls around on my tongue, making me all too aware that my trying to lose weight is going to be torture. I decided a couple of days ago it was time to go on a diet. I keep trying to tell myself it's not because of how I want my new boss to look at me or because I can't stop hearing my father's voice inside my head telling me no man will ever want me.

"No man wants a fat wife, Leah."My father planted those seeds at an early age, and they took root. And when something like that takes root, it's hard to pull out. It also doesn't help when those roots are watered. It allows them to keep growing.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to suppress the monster's voice that continually reminds me I'm not good enough.

"What are you doing?" I'm drawn out of my musings by a familiar husky baritone voice. When I open my eyes, Nikolai is standing over my desk. Eyes laser-focused on my face. Me being my usual awkward self, I become mute. So, when I don't answer his question, he asks again, this time more slowly. "What are you doing?"

I suddenly worry that I have unknowingly done something wrong. How long was I spaced out? Is my hour up already? Taking a glance down at my watch, I note it's only fifteen minutes past noon. Then I peer back upward at the man standing in front of me. Well, I look at his t-shirt covered chest because, like any other time he speaks to me, I can't look at his devastatingly handsome face. God, I'm so lame. He must think I'm an idiot.

"Eating my lunch."

When Nikolai doesn't respond, I take a quick peek up. His eyes dart from my face to the bowl of carrot sticks and apple slices sitting in front of me. The second I see his jaw tick, I look away.

"Let's go."

At his abrupt command, I snap my head up, settling my gaze on his forehead. "What?"

"Now, Leah." Nikolai turns on his heel and walks out the door. Confused but not wanting to defy my boss, I stand, grab my purse, throw my coat on, and shuffle out. Nikolai is standing at the passenger side of his truck with the door open as he waits for me to get in. "Shouldn't you lock up?" I gesture toward the entrance of Kings Construction.

"Nobody around here is stupid enough to fuck with the place. Let's go."

Shuffling toward his vehicle, I do as he says. Once I climb in, he shuts the door. My pulse races as I watch him move around the hood to the driver's side and climb behind the wheel. Nikolai doesn't say one word as he backs out of the parking space. Less than ten minutes later, we pull up to Polson's local diner. Nikolai barks another command, "Stay."

"What am I, a dog?" I say to an empty cab.

Nikolai opens the passenger door for me. He waits without a word for me to slide out. When I do, my body freezes up at the feel of his palm against the small of my back as he guides us into the diner. I walk stiffly, aware of Nikolai's touch burning into my skin. If Nikolai notices my reaction, he doesn't say a word. A few seconds after we enter, we are shown a booth, and a waitress comes over to greet us as she places our menus down on the table.

"Can I get you two something to drink?"

I peer up at her. "I'll have water, please."

"Coke," Nikolai grunts.

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