by Lia London
“I insist,” said Ford, winking at Angelika.
“That’s very generous of you,” said Viktor.
Angelika felt a lump forming in her stomach. “Yes, he’s very generous.” Make that a long, expensive evening.
Viktor – an hour later
Viktor couldn’t decide who annoyed him more: this pretentious Ford guy, who kept hitting on Darcie… or Darcie. Why did he think bringing her would impress Angelika? Even speaking sparingly, Angelika was ten times more interesting than anyone else at the table. She seemed to have done so many useful things over the last ten years: building an orphanage in Zimbabwe, touring with a youth symphony in Europe as a chaperone, helping with disaster relief after the most recent wave of hurricanes.
He scooted his chair a few inches closer to her and leaned in. “Tell me again what you do for a living?”
“Did I ever tell you in the first place?” Her words were snarky, but not her eyes.
“Come on. Help me out here. I should know this.”
“I’m the District Administrator over all the Special Ed programs in the schools.” Her humble smile widened. “That’s how I have so much time in the summers to do some of this cool stuff.”
Viktor registered several observations at once. The firelight danced in her hair, her voice was softer than he remembered, and she was a much kinder person than he’d ever imagined.
Despite himself, he smiled. “I’m impressed,” he whispered.
“Really? You?”
He leaned back with a smirk. “Don’t let it go to your head.” Glancing at Darcie, he saw her chair now tilted towards Ford’s and the two carried on an animated discussion about the latest episode of Battle of the Kings. He let his eyes drift back to Angelika and caught a sad curve to her lips as she watched the other two flirting. Was she jealous of Darcie? Wasn’t he supposed to be jealous of Ford?
But he wasn’t. Let Darcie and Ford have each other. He’d find something to talk about with Angelika.
“By the way,” he whispered. “I disagree with Darcie. You don’t need highlights. I mean, unless you want them.” He winced. “I mean, I think your hair looks nice.”
Despite the clumsiness of his remark, she smiled sweetly, sending an unexpected wave of warmth through him.
He fumbled through another hour of small talk and a noncommittal kiss with Darcie before going home alone and faceplanting on his couch. Just before sleep rescued him, his phone sounded off with the distinctive ring he dreaded most.
“Hey, Dad!” he answered with forced cheer. “What’s up?”
“Ah, good. You’re still at the office. I hoped you’d be working long today.”
Viktor bit his lip. His father would find out either way. He always did. “Actually, I just got back from a date,” he confessed.
There was a pause and then a conspiratorial chuckle. “Anyone I know?”
“Uh. I don’t think so. Her name’s Darcie.”
“Blonde?”
“Very.”
“Pretty?”
Viktor normally would have answered right away, but an evening of watching Darcie flirt with Ford had made her less attractive. “She certainly has no trouble getting the attention of other men in the room.” He winced the instant the words left his lips, knowing how his father would interpret them.
“What’s the matter? Can’t keep the attention of your date? Are you letting yourself go? Or are you dating some monster like that frizzy-haired girl who used to make you look so bad back in high school?”
Viktor wished he could dissolve through the cracks between the cushions and hide with the breath mints and loose change. Of all people on the planet, Dad had to mention Angelika. “Ha! No chance of that,” said Viktor weakly. “She’d probably think she was too good for me.”
“Huh. Well, she’d be right if you can’t keep your date interested. No son of mine should have any trouble being the best-looking, best-paid, best-connected man in the room. It’s in your genes, after all. You’re a Giles.”
“Right. Yes, thanks, Dad.” Why did he thank his father for such comments? Salary and popularity weren’t hereditary, and Viktor’s features took after his mother. Still, it never helped to question his dad’s world view of Giles genes. “Did you need something?” he asked, hoping to redirect the conversation.
“I wanted to know if Ricky had gotten back to you about that promotion. I’ve been pulling some strings. You know how I golf with Ricky and Herbstein every week.”
Viktor teetered on the edge of consciousness, his cheek pressing into the armrest while his father droned on, namedropping and bragging for the next ten minutes. With a few well-placed murmurs of approval, Viktor avoided saying anything to trigger his dad’s temper. Only at the end of the conversation did he clue in to hear the unveiled threat. “Don’t make me look bad in front of Ricky. You give him the Giles best. Make sure he knows you’re my son by the way you do business. Play hardball in the conference room and under par on the links. Goodnight, Viktor.”
With a sigh, Viktor dropped the phone onto the floor. His eyes were still closed, and now a dull ache tapped at his eyelids. Why did everything with his father have to feel so impersonal, as if any shred of affection was conditional upon Viktor’s successes mounting ever higher. It exhausted him, and in honest moments, he knew none of it was worth it. But what else could he do? He only had one father, so it was his job to please him, right?
Angelika – two weeks later
“Can I make a confession?” Angelika stared at the engraved nameplate on Viktor’s office door and shifted her cellphone to the other ear. “Two, actually.”
“One, I beat you in the tennis tournament junior year when the line judge called out, and two, I am the smartest man you’ve ever known.”
She snorted. “I’ll give you one of those.”
“Really? Which one?”
“Take your pick.”
Viktor chuckled.
Angelika smiled at this. “Confession number one is that I’m outside your office.”
A comical scrambling noise came from behind the door before it swung wide to reveal Viktor in a suit, still holding the phone to his ear and looking endearingly caught off guard. She had to admit the suit accentuated all the right parts of his physique.
Sliding her phone into her purse, she grinned. “You can hang up now.”
“Right,” he said into the phone. He disconnected and backed out of her way. “What’s up?”
Angelika entered and flopped down into the stylish chrome and leather chair opposite his desk. “Second confession. I broke up with Ford.” She glanced sideways at Viktor as he rounded his desk.
“Good.”
Her mouth popped wide. “Way to gloat, Jerkface.”
“No, no. I mean, he wasn’t good enough for you.” He turned away, but not before she caught the surprising flush of color in his cheeks.
Angelika bit her lip to keep from smiling. “How nice of you to say.” Did she dare ask? “How are things going with—”
“We, uh, decided we’re not long-term compatible.” He sat down and shoved a stack of manila folders aside, accidentally knocking over a stapler.
They both reached to catch it at the same time and froze when their hands grazed each other. She pulled away. “Careful. You don’t want that thing going off on its own.”
“Right.” He returned the stapler to its post, his eyes never leaving her. “So… Ford.”
“Is the world’s most generous mooch.” She braced herself for a sarcastic line, but it didn’t come. “I don’t know how anyone can make that much money, spend it all showing off how generous he is, then borrow even more from me, and spend all that, too.”
“Wow. Really? And you call me a jerk.”
She ventured a smile. “Yeah. Comparatively speaking, you’re only a quarter-jerk at the most.”
They sat in awkward silence scanning the contents of his messy desk until he said, “You didn’t have to come here to tell me that. You coul
d’ve called.”
“I guess I’m used to you bullying me in person.” It was a weak joke, and he didn’t laugh.
“Did I really bully you?” His face grew pensive, his voice quiet but intense.
“No. I don’t know.” She fidgeted with the strap of her purse. “We kind of harassed each other equally, I guess.”
Viktor clasped his hands and furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like crap. You’re not.”
Angelika opened her mouth to speak, but instead a tear formed in her eye. She stared at a vacant spot on the desk. “It’s okay. I’m sorry right back. You’re not crap. I mean, maybe you’re a jerk, but you’re not crap. No one ever kept me on my toes like you. Without you, I probably wouldn’t have done half the stuff I did in high school.”
Why had she said that?
Because it was true.
Viktor’s mouth fell open. “That may be the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
She met his eyes, and her lips twitched with amusement. “So, we’ve established we’re not crap. What’s the next stage?”
To her astonishment, Viktor threw back his head and laughed. Not the derisive laugh she’d heard so many times before, but a full-on belly laugh, contagious and charming. Watching him, she allowed herself to relax into the chair and chortle along.
When he subsided with a sigh, his smile lingered. “So how’s your cat? Still trying to kill all intruders?”
Angelika gave a reluctant grimace. “I may have taken on more than I expected with Chucho. He’s, um… Let’s say he does more damage with three paws than my last four cats put together.”
“Four cats? Are you the crazy cat lady, already?” He was still smiling, not in sniper mode.
She trusted enough to answer honestly. “Sometimes I think I might end up that way.”
“Forget Ford.” Viktor flicked his hand as if swatting him away. “As I said, you need someone better. You’ve been pushing me all these years. You need a freaking stallion to challenge you.”
Frowning at the stapler, she admitted, “I’m not exactly surrounded by stallions right now.” Her eyes took on a glimmer of mischief. “Well, except one. Lee Hamlin. But…”
“But?” He perked up.
“But he’s twelve.”
Viktor’s body stiffened like a mule balking. “What? That’s sick.”
Angelika laughed at his reaction. “I’m teasing. He’s a little special ed kid in our district, not a boyfriend.” Heaviness crept back into her voice. “He’s dying, actually.”
“What?” Viktor’s mouth fell open, his face losing all humor.
“He was born with some kind of heart defect, and it finally caught up with him. He’s only got a little longer to live. It’s super sad, because he’s amazing.”
Viktor leaned his elbows on the desk. “There’s no hope for him?”
Angelika shook her head. “I worked with him a lot—him and his parents—when they first moved into the district. We kind of hit it off. He’s a sweet little guy. I’ve been visiting him a bunch in the hospital to cheer him up.” She shrugged and studied a speck of lint on her knee. “I guess that’s kind of a downer. Not a fun thing to bring a date on, but I feel like I should be there for him.”
Viktor’s hand reach across the desk, stopping inches from where she sat. “You don’t have to stop visiting the kid. That’s more important than our dumb bet.”
“Yeah.” She smiled at the shifting energy of the conversation. How wonderful not to feel so defensive around Viktor.
He seemed to be studying her, his gaze darting across her features. “Annie, you run around doing all this nice stuff for people and getting mooched on by Ford, but what about taking care of you? Who takes care of you? Who lifts you up?”
“No one seems particularly interested in that job. I’m not the person people notice.”
Viktor looked perplexed for a moment. He leaned back with narrowed eyes. “Not notice the philanthropist world traveler lady? That’s crazy. You know what? You’ve got to get someone who can do those things with you and keep up.”
Angelika folded her arms and regarded him. “Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my jerkface nemesis, Viktor Giles?”
Again, he laughed. “Aren’t I allowed to grow up?”
She grinned. “It’s about time, right?”
Viktor – two weeks later
Viktor drew a deep breath and knocked.
Angelika opened the door of her home and lifted her hands to shield squinting eyes from the setting sun. “Ugh. Is that you Viktor? Stupid west-facing door. I swear, an ax murderer could slay me where I stand, and I wouldn’t see it coming.” She turned back into the house and waved him in.
Viktor entered cautiously, glancing around for the cat and holding his hands near his neck just in case. “You’ve already got an ax murderer living with you, if I recall.”
“Excuse me?”
Viktor followed the voice to a young woman with short blonde hair and long black bangs scowling skeptically up at him from the couch.
“Oh. Hi. Sorry. I meant the cat.”
The woman snorted. “Okay, that makes more sense.” She peered from him to Angelika and back again. “And you are?”
He waved, still on the lookout for the cat. “I’m Viktor Giles.”
She raised an eyebrow and turned to Angelika. “The guy you hate?”
Viktor’s throat tightened, and Angelika blustered, “No. Not… no.” She cast him a sheepish grin. “Less now, right?”
Wounded but unwilling to show it, he feigned a laugh. “I hope my overall awesomeness has won you over a little.”
“Oh brother. I see what you mean.” The woman stood up and strode out of the room without another word.
Viktor winced. “Did I say something wrong?”
Angelika’s eyes pled for understanding. “Sorry. She’s my roomie, Gerianne. She, um, doesn’t hang with people who don’t carry magical swords and ride dragons.”
“And only one of those is on my resume.”
Angelika’s lips pressed into a conspiratorial smile, and she gestured to the kitchen. “Come on. If you insist on showing up unannounced, you get to watch me wash dishes.”
“I’ll help.” He squinted at the shadows under the dining room table. “Chucho’s not lurking, is he?”
“He was under my bed at last count.” She turned on the kitchen faucet, then studied him over her shoulder, her long hair framing her porcelain features. “So what brings you over? Payback for when I bugged you at work?” She began rinsing bubbles off plates and glasses.
“No, I…” He accepted the dishtowel she handed him. “I thought I’d give you a chance to laugh at me.”
“Laugh at you?”
“Yeah.” He wrung the dishtowel. “Remember Jo Jo Horst?”
“Should I?” She passed him a plate, and he dried it.
“Jo Jo? Crazy long hair. Could type 90 words a minute.”
“I wasn’t in the business class, remember?” She handed him another plate.
“Oh. Right. Well, she and I went out a few times after high school, so I looked her up. She didn’t come to the reunion, so…” He shrugged, reaching for a pan. “Anyway, turns out she’s getting married to a French general, of all things.”
Angelika’s eyes popped wide. “She’s not using the same dating service we are, is she?”
Viktor leaned into the counter, grinning. “Apparently not.”
“So, is this your way of telling me we’re not doing this month’s check-in dinner?”
“Unless you have a guy you want to show off.” He crossed his fingers under the dishtowel.
“No. Lee’s too sick.”
Viktor’s stomach lurched. “The dying kid?”
Angelika smiled sadly, mirroring his pose. “He needs me right now, you know? I don’t have time to search for Mr. Right when this sweet kid only has me and his parents visiting him in the hospital.” She shrugged. “I don’t care if it sets m
e back in our race.”
Viktor stared at her. “I’ll totally put my search efforts on hold until he… You do what you need to do to be there for the kid, and I’ll wait.”
Angelika took the dishtowel from his hands. “That’s the most decent thing you’ve ever done.”
“Pathetic, huh?” He puffed out his chest. “But I didn’t want to put you at an unfair disadvantage and have you whine later when you have to pay for my honeymoon cruise.”
In one smooth move, she swiped a sopping sponge into his face. “There’s your cruise, lover boy.” She laughed.
Wiping lukewarm suds from his cheeks, he shook his head in disbelief. “I can not believe you just did that to me.”
Angelika snatched up the hand sprayer, thumb on the trigger. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Oh goodie. A wet t-shirt contest,” droned the roommate as she entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. She gave Viktor a slow once-over. “I don’t know what she’s fussing about. You’re loads better than the last three guys she’s dated.”
Angelika’s eyebrows shot up, and Viktor covered his mouth to hide a laugh.
“Gerianne,” said Angelika in a warning tone.
“What?” She held up both hands in surrender before pulling a carton of yogurt from the fridge. “A druggie, a cheater, and a moocher. When he was the best of the lot, you know things are bad.”
Viktor watched the roommate wander back out with the carton. When he returned his gaze to Angelika, she leaned with both palms on the edge of the sink. He couldn’t see her face, shrouded in a curtain of copper hair.
Tentatively, he put a hand on her back. “Hey, sorry. She’s as bad as the cat, huh?”
He felt her tense beneath his touch, and she turned her face away. “I thought… I could make a difference.”
“You do. Your whole life seems to be about making a difference. It’s amazing. I sit around making money, and you make a difference.” It pained him to acknowledge the truth of the words spilling from his own mouth.
“That’s very nice of you to say, but I meant with them. With my boyfriends.”
Viktor drank in her profile, etched with regret. “I think it’s awesome that you want to help the person you’re with, that you put others before yourself. That’s so rare.”