Page 33 of Nikolai

Somewhat satisfied with my look, I take a deep breath. "You can do this, Leah. Just go over there and act casual. How hard can it be?" I mutter to myself as I turn away from the mirror and make my way out to the living room. Grabbing my things, I step out of the apartment, take in my surroundings, then turn and lock the door. Jiggling the knob, I double-check to make sure it's secure. When I twist back around and start heading down the steps and toward my car, the sudden overwhelming sense of being watched washes over me, it's the same feeling that came over me in the grocery store the other day. Peering around the parking lot, I spot the woman who lives two units down from me, unbuckling her kid from the backseat of her car. Turning, she notices me looking in her direction and waves. I smile and wave back. Shaking off my previous thoughts, I climb into my car and drive to Nikolai's.

When I clear the long winding road that leads to his house, I curiously eye the white SUV parked out front. From the looks of it, he has company. Parking my car next to the SUV, I cut the engine and second-guess my showing up at Nikolai's house uninvited. After being a chicken for five minutes, I elect to follow through with my original plan. Snatching my purse, I sling it over my shoulder, then grab the bag of muffins and the now cold coffee that I'll have to warm up in the microwave. With my hands full, I bump the car door with my hip, closing it. When I reach the front door, I hit the doorbell with my elbow. I don't have to wait long before the door swings open. But the sight that greets me knocks all the air from my lungs. A tall, slim beautiful woman with long, straight black hair and perfect porcelain skin, wearing an expensive-looking, emerald green wrap dress with five-inch heels, greets me. "Can I help you?" she asks in a distinct Russian accent.

I go to open my mouth, but no words come out. The woman speaks again.

"Are you deaf, or are you mute? I asked, can I help you?" This time her tone goes from sugary sweet to nasty.

"I…Is Nikolai here?"

The woman stands taller and narrows her eyes down at me. "Are you the cleaning lady or something? The cook?" The woman smiles, but it's not warm. And I start to feel self-conscious about the way she appraises me. "The cook. You look like a woman who likes food."

Her comment burns, and I try desperately not to let her see just how much.

"We won't require your services today. We'll be dining out."

"Wh..what?"

"We don't need you to cook today. My Nikolai is taking me out. It's been weeks since I've seen him, and he likes to spoil me, so he'll be taking me out to dinner."

Suddenly my mouth goes dry, and my heart breaks into a million pieces.

"Are you…are you, his girlfriend?" I choke out.

"Girlfriend?" the woman giggles. "No. Niki is my fiancé."

As the word fiancé leaves her mouth, the world around me tips on an axis, and I struggle to swallow the bile that rises in my throat. Turning, I stumble down the steps in front of the door, falling to my knees. I cry out a sob when the gravel digs into my flesh. The coffee and muffins I was carrying spill out onto the ground in front of me. I ignore the burning pain coming from my scraped knees and the voice of the woman behind me, demanding I clean the mess as I climb to my feet and run to my car. Once inside, I fumble with the keys as I try to control my breathing. Please, God. Now is not the time for an asthma attack. I have to get out of here. Finally, the key slips into the ignition, I put the car in drive and peel away from Nikolai's house. Once I hit the main road, I get the inhaler I keep in the console, place it to my mouth, and administer the desperately needed medicine, taking three deep breaths.

"You're an idiot, Leah. How could you be so stupid," I chastise myself. What was I thinking of buying this ridiculous dress and showing up at his house? Of course, he wouldn't look at me twice when he has a woman like that. I just made a fool of myself. How am I supposed to face him after this? I bet him, and his fiancé is having a good laugh at my expense too. My father was right. No man wants a woman who looks like me.

A choking cry escapes my mouth as I swipe at the tears rolling down my face. What's confusing is Nikolai's recent behavior. I mean, why the kiss? Why the late-night dinners and the sleeping over because he's worried about me? Is it because he feels sorry for me? Poor, shy, damaged Leah needs a man to take pity on her. Make her feel special; make her feel important. Maybe Nikolai thinks he can have his cake and eat it too. Well, screw him.

I shake my head.

No.

The problem is me.

Bella and Alba were wrong. I should have been listening to that little voice inside my head. Had I been, I wouldn't have gone to his house today, putting myself in that humiliating position.

Stopping at a red light, I dig some tissue from my purse and wipe my eyes. The car behind me honks, indicating the light has turned green. Tossing the tissue to the seat beside me, I slide my glasses back on and accelerate through the intersection. The next thing I know, my ears are assaulted by the sound of screeching tires and metal hitting metal as my car is suddenly jerked to the left, causing my seat belt to lock up tight across my chest. The airbag deploys, and a scream escapes my lips just before everything goes black.

13

Nikolai

It's been a couple of days since I've seen Leah. Between helping The Kings and tying up some loose ends my father needed me to handle via video meeting with one of our suppliers, I haven't left the house. Then I find out my mother arrived in town late last night. What fucking business does she have here in the States? Furthermore, what made her think her presence in Polson would be welcomed. The only reason I've invited her to the house this morning is to find out why and inform her she is to go back home to Russia. Good thing my father left for Chicago a couple of nights ago. He's warned her numerous times never to show her face. Turning off the water, I step from the shower. My sour mood turns to rage when my eyes find Katya, a woman from my past, sitting on the foot of my bed, leaning back on her elbows.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Come now. Is that how you greet a lover?" Her blue eyes looked me up and down.

"Stop looking at my dick." I snatch the towel off the hook nearby and wrap it around my waist. "Why are you here?"

Katya rises from the bed. "Your mother invited me." She saunters across the floor in her short dress and five-inch heels. I roll my eyes. She always did try too hard. "I miss you. You never called the last time you came home." Katya pouts. "I have a hunger only you can feed, my love," she tries removing my towel, and I grab her by the wrist, stopping her from making a mistake.

"I have no need for you, Katya."

Ever persistent, and turned on by my aggression, Katya's nipples harden. She presses her body against mine. "I like it when you play rough," she whispers.

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