Page 15 of Wrapped in Perfection

"Vivian—"

She waves and leaves.

Is this really happening?I go into the bathroom and wince when I see my reflection. I have on no makeup and my hair is all messy.

I shower and shave, dry my hair, then get nervous when I stare at the clothes in my closet, wondering what to wear and pack.

Since Chase won't let me go back to New York to get my stuff, he issued me a credit card. I still have no access to my accounts. The bank said my funds were transferred, and there is nothing I can do. Apparently, I was a joint account holder on Mitch's credit card, and he revoked my privileges. I would apply for my own line of credit, but since I have no income coming in, I didn't want to commit fraud and lie on my application. I didn't want to take Chase's money, but I couldn't keep washing my one outfit every night. He even threatened to pick out my new wardrobe, so I caved and decided it was better to select my own clothes.

Vivian and Harper took me out and made me buy things for all sorts of occasions. It was a little overboard, but the retail therapy made me feel better, even if it was short lived.

I take Vivian's advice and put on jeans, a dressier black top, and ankle boots. I decide to wear my hair straight and keep my makeup more casual so I don't appear to be trying too hard.

This is work,I remind myself.

I pack a dressier outfit I could wear for dinner or to look more professional, and the red dress, plus two different pairs of shoes. At the last minute, I throw my hairbrush, curling iron, hairspray, and makeup in the bag.

My stomach has a million butterflies in it. Dmitri is waiting when I step off the elevator, and the flutters intensify.

He might be one of the hottest guys I've ever seen. He's got the sexy shaved-head look going on and is taller and more built than Mitch. And Vivian was right, his Russian accent will put any girl's panties in a twist. He has just a touch of a beard going on, amazing green eyes that morph between light and dark, and there's a hint of danger about him.

When I saw him on the day of Quinn and Jamison's wedding, he checked me out when I passed him on my way to the bathroom. I tried not to give him any attention and felt guilty for getting flutters since I was with Mitch. When I ran into him at the bar, he checked me out again. Today, his gaze dropped several times to my cleavage when we were in the booth. Then he scanned my body when I stood up.

I could be imagining things, since I haven't had sex in months. Mitch kept blowing me off and making comments about my weight. I hadn't gained any, but it might have me interpreting Dmitri's attention the wrong way.

If I can't keep Mitch, how would a guy like Dmitri even be interested in me?

The thought smacks me in the face.This is work. Keep it professional.

Dmitri rises when I step off the elevator, and his eyes travel the length of my body before meeting mine. I feel like his prey when he looks at me like that, but I reprimand myself.

Don't screw up your first job in Chicago.

He reaches for my bag and whistles. "You look nice, kotik. What's in this?"

Kotik. What does it mean?

He said he would tell me at dinner.

I don't know any Russian words. But my heart skips a beat whenever he calls me kotik. And my face feels hot again from him whistling and the way he's looking at me.

"Vivian said I should wear jeans. I wasn't sure what the attire was the rest of the day, so..." I release a nervous breath.

His lips twitch. "Okay. Let's go check the building out." He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me outside to his car. Tingles race through my body at his touch. He slides into the seat next to me, and his woody, amber scent fills the small space.

My nerves increase, and I twist my fingers together. "How far is the building?"

"Not far. Chicago is smaller than New York. How long have you been here?"

"A couple months."

"Since the wedding?"

My mouth goes dry. I quietly reply, "A few days after."

Dmitri focuses on me.

"What?" I nervously ask.

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