Page 98 of Wrapped in Perfection

Okay. This is a different kind of business meeting than I planned, but I'll go with it.

"Oh, I got a lot done on the roof design yesterday. I think I can have something for you by next week. If I didn't have to research so much, it wouldn't take as long."

He nods. "Great. I spoke with several real estate agents. They are all confirming what Vivian thinks."

"Awesome."

"Whatever you do, do not tell Sacha anything about a roof design or anything else to increase his profit until you are under contract."

My stomach flips. "Is this guy that bad?"

Maksim taps his fingertips together. "Not once you get to know him. But at first, yes. Plus, you are not Russian."

"I can't do anything about that." I smirk. "You should get over it."

Amusement crosses his face. "I am over it. And we will use it to our advantage today."

"How?"

"You'll see."

The car parks in front of the restaurant. It's the same Russian restaurant Dmitri took me to.

Maksim smiles. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Dmitri brought me here. But I don't remember the names of anything he ordered. He didn't tell me the English names."

"Was there anything you didn't like?"

"No. Everything was great."

He nods. "Do not worry. I will order for you."

The driver opens the car door. Maksim steps out and reaches in to help me out, the same way Dmitri does, but once I'm on the sidewalk, he releases my hand. He places his hand on my upper back and guides me inside.

He kisses the hostess's cheek. Her name is Mila, and Maksim introduces us. We exchange greetings, and she leads us to a table.

Sacha is already there. He's only a little taller than me. He's bald, but it's not the sexy shaved look Dmitri has going on. He's got wire-rimmed glasses that slide down his nose, and he pushes them back up often with his stubby fingers. His face and body are pudgy.

Sacha reminds me of an accountant I knew in New York. But that's where the similarities end.

From the beginning, he tries to intimidate me. "She's not Russian," he says to Maksim, as if I'm not sitting in front of him.

"No. She's not. Which is how you know she's better than Lada, or I wouldn't have caved and hired her."

He peers at me through the tiny slits of his eyes, and I sit up straighter. He turns to Maksim and speaks Russian.

In a stern voice, Maksim says, "No Russian. Anna only speaks English. That is how we will converse during our lunch today."

The waitress comes over, and Maksim speaks quickly to her in Russian.

Or maybe we'll speak some Russian.

When he finishes, he turns to me. "I apologize. Galina only knows Russian."

I smile. "No worries."

Sacha sits back and crosses his arms. "Okay, Anna. I have a new, ten-story building going up in three months. Tell me how you're going to help me."

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