Page 4 of Ruby Malice

Oscar guffaws. “What did you say?”

“Something about her being boring and privileged. I don’t really remember the details. I kinda, like… blacked out. Sort of. I don’t really know. Kirill said she wasn’t worth the trouble, and everything after that is kind of a blur.”

“Holy shit,” Miranda laughs. “Well, looks like he has an opening in his bed tonight then. You’re at the front of the line.”

All the blood in my body rushes to my face at once. “What? Why would you—No, that’s not it. He called me ‘working class.’ That’s not exactly a pickup line.”

Oscar waves his arms around. “Look around, sweetheart. Weareworking class.”

“Yeah, but he said it like an insult.” I shake my head. “You had to be there. People like him don’t look at people like me in… in that way.”

I hate that those words just came out of my mouth. I sound way too much like my sisters for my liking. I’m not the girl who’s obsessed with status and money and appearances, and I won’t let someone like Kirill turn me into that kind of person.

If he thinks I’m trash, fine. So be it. I’m better off without someone like that in my life.

“He insulted his date and stopped her from hitting you. Trust me—Kirill only pays attention to people he wants something from,” Miranda says.

“How do you know?”

“Because unlike you, apparently, I’ve been paying attention to him the last few months.”

“Wait. You know him?”

“As much as you do, ding-dong.” Miranda rolls her eyes. “I knew you were spacey, but how could you miss a man like that? He’s made appearances at the last three Chamber of Commerce luncheons we’ve done.”

“And that gala for the congressman,” Oscar chimes in.

“Why areyoukeeping tabs on him, Big O? Is there something about you I need to know?” Miranda asks, mischief in her eyes.

Oscar shoves her away playfully. “If I was gay, you’d know it, Mimi. I just pay attention to my surroundings. Unlike Miss Butter Fingers over here.”

I want to argue that I was too busy doing my job to pay attention to the guests in attendance, but Miranda and Oscar are right: there is no excuse for not noticing Kirill. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess I didn’t see him.”

“Well, I did,” Miranda announces. “And Kirill ignores pretty much everyone except people he’s in business with and women he’s going to be in bed with.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Rayne. Men like Kirill don’t have to waste energy wooing you. He saves that for the bedroom.”

Oscar throws up a peace sign. “Aaand I’m out.”

“You’re just insecure about your own masculinity!” she cackles after him. Then she turns back to me. “I’ve seen enough to know that Kirill goes after what he wants.”

“Pass. I’m not that thirsty for sex.”

“You’re misunderstanding, hon. There’s sex, and then there’ssex. I have a feeling Kirill is the second kind.”

Immediately, I think of my sisters. Lana and Alexis both married men “like that.” Maybe not as rich as Kirill, and absolutely not as good looking. But still, they were undoubtedly members of that rarefied, silver spoon species, the kind of guys who grew up wiping their asses with hundred-dollar-bills. Most people would say they’re living the dream, but I’ve peeked behind the curtain. I know it’s not nearly that nice.

Which is how I know for certain that Kirill Zaitsev is just a fantasy. A mirage and nothing more. Matter of fact, it’s better that way. Living it out the way Miranda is suggesting would only lead to disappointment.

I’m about to tell her that, but she suddenly goes wide-eyed and scurries away. I’m confused—until a shadow falls over me. Like an angry bull, I can feel his hot breath on my neck, and that familiar stench of overpowering cologne that barely covers up his B.O.

Irving.

“What in the hell were you thinking?” he steams.

I turn and face my boss, gulping. “It was an accident.”

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