Page 20 of Sergei
But for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain, I didn’t want him to know she was here. I didn’t want to hand her off or even ask for his input. I wanted him to steer fucking clear and let me handle this thing on my own. So, I did the only thing I knew to do.
I started making breakfast.
I wasn’t the type to make breakfast for anyone. Hell, I barely made it for myself. And yet, there I was, cracking egg after egg into a mixing bowl. I’d just started scrambling them when the sound of soft footsteps drew my attention to the hallway.
And there she was.
Her dark red hair was damp around her shoulders, and she was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater. It was just a simple outfit, but she looked good. Beautiful even. And for a second, I just stood there staring at her with that stupid spatula in my hand like some fucking asshole.
Eventually, I pulled my head from my ass and motioned my head toward the front counter. “Sit. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Her eyes flickered from me to the stove like she couldn’t believe I was actually cooking. Hell, I couldn’t believe it either. After a moment, she gave me a quick nod and made her way across the room. She seemed to walk with a little more ease. I hoped that meant that the Tylenol had helped, and she was on her way to a full recovery.
As she sat down, she muttered, “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Her brows furrowed the second I said, “You should see a doctor.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just a few bruises. I’ve had far worse.” I had no doubt that she was telling the truth, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Before I could push further, she asked, “Is there coffee?”
“Just made a pot.”
I turned and quickly poured her a cup, then placed it in front of her. “You put anything in it?”
“This is fine.” She smiled and muttered, “Thanks.”
She took it in her hands, and for the first time since she’d been here, she seemed to relax a bit. I finished the eggs and scraped a pile onto her plate. I added a couple of slices of toast before sliding it over to her. “Eat.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“It was nothing.”
“It’s something to me.”
She held my gaze for a moment, then started eating. For a few minutes, there was only the sound of forks clicking against our plates. The quiet between us wasn’t uncomfortable. It almost felt normal, and then, she set her fork down and her eyes met mine.
“When will I see Viktor?”
The question hit me square in the chest. I should’ve been expecting it. She’d come to the casino looking for him, not me. I wasn’t the one she wanted sitting across from her, cookingher breakfast, and trying to make her problems disappear. She wanted him for that.
She got me instead.
Too bad for her.
I leaned back in my chair and announced, “He’s tied up right now. He’ll be around when he can.”
“Tied up with what?”
“A project for the casino.” The lie slid out smoother than I’d expected, but it still tasted bitter. “It’s a big one. It needs his full attention.”
Her brows drew together as she muttered, “I see.”
She didn’t buy it. Not for a second.
She knew Viktor well enough to know he wasn’t one to put off a friend. She knew he would come if he knew she was there. Her lips parted like she was about to call me on my bullshit but thought better of it and turned her attention back to her plate.
She took another bite of toast, then asked, “So, how is he?”
“Viktor?” I cleared my throat. “He’s good.”
