by Anna Durand
After a weekend of serving Raisa, like a Roman slave girl without the toga, I can't wait to see Chance again. Despite knowing Raisa has been faking her illness---she has a bottle of cold medicine on her living room table but never took the plastic seal off it---I still feel bad for her. Yeah, okay, I'm a sap. She cheated on her husband and ordered me to help her win him back, but she's also a human being. I get the feeling she honestly regrets ruining her marriage and losing Chance.
I also get the sneaking suspicion she knows I'm the one Chance is seeing.
Sunday evening, Raisa frees me from my servitude, at least until tomorrow.
Chance's flight arrives at eight o'clock, an hour from now, and I can't wait until tomorrow to see him. I run across the street to the hotel and sip a margarita at the bar while I wait. When I see him walk through the automatic doors, I jump up and run to him. Okay, I fling my entire body at him.
He catches me, chuckling, and says, "I'm happy to see you too."
"God, I missed you so much."
I kiss him like we haven't seen each other in months, not caring one bit who sees us making out in the lobby. Chance keeps one arm around me while we get in the elevator and head up to the nineteenth floor. He kisses me even more passionately in the elevator, since there's no one around, and I wish he'd take me like he did that first night. He doesn't---at least, not until we get inside his room.
We've barely spoken to each other, but I'm so happy to be with him again that I don't care. Who needs words? Our bodies say everything that matters.
After sex, we lie naked on the bed with no covers over us, entangled in each other's arms.
"How was your trip?" I ask.
"It was good to see my family." He nuzzles my hair. "But I missed you."
"Raisa kept me busy all weekend." I lift my head off his chest to look at him. "I think she knows about us."
"I think so too."
"That means tomorrow is doomsday."
He cups my chin, his blue eyes intent on mine. "Everything will be fine, you'll see."
"You're awfully confident about that. Did you talk to Raisa already?"
"No." He rolls over so I'm under him. "Let's not talk about my ex-wife anymore. There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. Tonight, I want to make up for lost time, two days' worth of not shagging you."
We make up for lots of missed shagging, and I fall asleep in his arms.
The banging of a fist on the door wakes us both at six a.m.
Chance yanks on a pair of pants, the ones he ditched last night when we both rushed to get naked, and jogs out of the bedroom to answer the door.
I get dressed in a hurry and find Chance in the living room, an envelope crushed in his fist and a paper in his hand. He glances up from reading the paper.
"She's off her rocker," he says. "The bloody woman has completely lost her mind."
"What's happened?"
He looks at the paper again and shakes his head. "The law firm of Raisa Volkov & Associates is no longer paying for my suite, and I'm to vacate the premises immediately. You and I are both to report to Raisa's office at eight o'clock."
"What? Shit." I spin around, searching for my purse. Where did I leave it? "I have to go home and change, which means I'll be late."
Chance crumples the paper and hurls it across the room. "Stop, Elena. She knows damn well you're here. Don't know how, but she knows. Go down to the hotel boutique and buy something, damn the price tag. I'll dress and pack and meet you there to pay for it."
I do what he says, because I have no frigging idea what else to do. The woman I'd been enslaved to all weekend, even felt sorry for, is sharpening her ax and taking practice swings with it.
By the time I find a skirt suit that fits and doesn't look as outrageously expensive as it is, Chance strides into the boutique and offers up his credit card to pay for it. I get dressed in the fitting room. We say nothing to each other, but his thunderous expression tells me he is not pleased with Raisa.
The hotel concierge, who seems to know Raisa and not like her very much, offers to have Chance's bags sent to my apartment.
We walk into the offices of Raisa Volkov & Associates together.
All eyes gravitate to us. Everyone comes out to watch us go into Raisa's office, even the attorneys who usually stay in their offices with their doors shut.
Chance shuts the door.
He and I take the chairs in front of Raisa's desk.
She sits in her leather executive chair, spine straight and shoulders back, gazing at us with regal assurance.
My mouth has gone dry. My eyes burn because I've stopped blinking.
Raisa folds her hands on the desktop. "You are both fired."
Chance makes a derisive noise. "Come off it, Raisa. You always overreact when you're angry. Once you've calmed down---"
"I am calm, Chance." She nails him with her frigid glare, the one everybody says she reserves for clients who've lied to her. "You've been screwing my paralegal and haven't informed me of your relationship. That's a violation of the firm's policy on dating."
"That's bollocks, and you know it," Chance says. "The policy states employees have thirty days to report their relationship to you."
Raisa rises from her chair, towering over us where we sit. "I said you are fired. And you can be certain"---she swerves her frigid glare to me---"that you won't receive a letter of recommendation from me. In fact, I'll make sure every firm in the city knows about the gold-digging paralegal who stole my husband."
Chance flies out of his chair. "Elena didn't steal me. You destroyed our marriage years ago, and I should've left you then. I tried to make it work, but you couldn't stop fucking other men, could you? I'm finally happy, and you can't stand it."
Raisa remains unruffled, gazing at him like he's one of the plebs and not her ex-husband. "Don't you want to know how I found out about your treachery?"
Chance looks about to explode, so I get up and place myself between the two of them.
"How did you find out?" I ask, though it hardly matters now.
She lifts her nose. "Sheri Ann at the boutique told me you two had been there and looked very cozy. I didn't want to believe it, but then Chance delayed his flight to England so he could leave after work. He hates to take evening flights, what with the five-hour time difference. Still, I wasn't sure until I asked you to deliver those papers to me after hours, and you claimed to have plans."
Chance comes up beside me, scowling at Raisa. "You wouldn't have evicted me from the hotel unless you had ironclad proof."
"I do." She picks up a manila envelope that was lying on her desk and hands it to him. "Did you really think I wouldn't have a contact at the hotel? Desk clerks are woefully underpaid and easy to tempt with a few hundred dollars."
Chance opens the envelope and slides out the contents. It's a single sheet of paper. When he flips it over, I see the paper is a photograph that was clearly produced on a desktop printer, like the one sitting on a table behind Raisa.
The photo is of us. Me and Chance. In the hotel lobby. Kissing passionately.
Raisa points at the door. "Get out. Both of you. Any personal effects you've left here will be sent to you."
Did her voice quiver the teeniest bit? I search her face and realize her lips are trembling too, barely enough to notice. When I glance at the trash can beside her desk, I see a bunch of balled-up tissues inside it.
Maybe her anger is an act, or a cover for the fact she finally understands Chance will never take her back. I hope that's the case, because if it is, she might get over the initial shock and decide not to ruin our lives after all.
Chance stares at her for a moment, then tosses the photo onto her desk, takes my hand, and leads me out of the building. I tell him he can stay at my apartment for as long as he needs, but he says he has "things to take care of" and leaves as soon as he's dropped me off at my place. His bags are waiting by the kitchen bar. The hotel must have
sent them over right after we left the suite, and Kyle must've accepted the delivery.
My brother has gone to work, so I'm alone in the apartment.
In a numb haze, I change into sweats and eat ice cream straight from the container while watching soap operas. I've never watched a soap in my life, and I have no idea what's going on in the complicated stories. It doesn't matter. I'm not paying attention to the TV.
Am I really blacklisted?
The only thing I can do is wait for Chance and hope everything works out the way he swore it would last night.
Chapter Fifteen
Chance
When I get back to the office, the one I was fired from by my ex-wife, Raisa has already left for court. Security won't let me into the office, anyway. I walk back to where I parked the car I hired after leaving Elena and sit there trying to figure out what to do next. I need to talk to Raisa, but she might be in court for hours with her latest divorce case. As much as I want to go back to Elena, I'd planned to have everything sorted first.
Since I can't think of anything else, I decide to get started on my plans for the future. I hope my future includes Elena, but I can't be sure of anything today. Elena is kind and compassionate, the sort who never wants to hurt anyone, even the woman who made her work life miserable. I know Elena admires Raisa professionally, but I think on some level she feels sorry for my ex-wife.
It's all my fault. I should never have come back here.
But if I hadn't, I would never have met Elena.
Though I make a few calls, my plans aren't sorted quite yet, and I finally realize I should go back to Elena's apartment. All my things are there, and I need a place to relax---or try to---so I can figure out what the hell I can do to stop Raisa from ruining Elena's career.
The drive from the office seems to take forever.
I have to park two blocks away from Elena's apartment building, and by the time I knock on her door, I'm in need of a lie-down. Two blocks isn't far to walk, but this day has already taken its toll on me. I can't imagine how Elena feels, but at least I'll be here to support her.
She opens the door and throws her arms around me. "I'm so glad you're back."
A relief so intense it makes me feel weak rushes through me. How can I miss Elena so much after ninety minutes away from her? It seems ridiculous, but I did miss her very much. Maybe it's the stress of our confrontation with Raisa, or guilt over not doing what Elena had wanted and telling Raisa about our relationship sooner. Or maybe it's just Elena. Her smile. The way her hair smells. The feel of her body pressed to mine.
"Come on," she says, taking my hand and leading me into the apartment. "You look like you need booze and a comfy sofa."
"I do. But isn't it rather early for a drink?"
"Not today it isn't."
While I take a seat on the sofa, she gets two glasses and a bottle of brandy from the kitchen. Elena pours our drinks and leaves the bottle on the coffee table. I relax into the overstuffed cushions, rest my feet on the table, and lay my arm across the sofa's back. Elena snuggles up under my arm. The tension inside me disintegrates before I even take my first sip of brandy.
After my second sip, I say, "Don't worry about Raisa. I'll talk to her later and convince her not to blacklist you. She's angry. Once she calms down, she'll see reason. Arguing with a judge always makes her feel better, so I'm sure she'll be in a more reasonable mood after court today."
"I hope so." Elena swirls the liquor in her glass, staring down at it, but doesn't drink. "Otherwise, my career is toast. If the legendary Raisa Volkov wants you gone, you'll disappear from the New York legal scene for good."
"She's not the queen of New York law." I set my glass on the table beside the sofa. "If you want to stay in New York, I understand. But there is another option."
"Yeah, I can move to Greenland."
"That won't be necessary." I curl my finger under her chin and urge her to look at me. When her eyes roll up to focus on me, for a moment I can't speak. She's so beautiful, so sweet, so clever and brave and wonderful. "Come work with me, Elena."
She blinks several times, her eyes large. "I don't understand. You're unemployed too."
"I'm going to start my own practice. There's a lovely little town in New Hampshire where the only attorney within fifty miles is retiring. I met that attorney, Garth Leonard, at a conference a few months ago. We got to talking, and he asked if I'd like to take over his practice." I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "I spoke to him this morning. He's retiring in two weeks, and I'd like to accept his offer."
"You're moving to New Hampshire?"
I place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Only if you come with me."
She sits up and gazes out the window, gnawing on her lip.
"This won't be a glamorous law office," I tell her. "It's a quiet little town full of good people who need legal advice but can't pay top dollar for it. Garth Leonard does have a few wealthy clients, but most are average people. If you want a high-powered career, you'll be better off staying in New York. But I'm hoping you might want what I want---a good life, regardless of prestige or social position."
I've known her for not quite a month, but I feel like I understand what she really wants deep down. If I'm wrong, I'll lose her. If I'm right...
"You don't like New York, do you?" she asks, still gazing out the window.
I swallow a mouthful of brandy before I answer. "I don't dislike it. But being with you has made me realize I want a quieter life, like I had with my family before I moved to America and got involved with Raisa."
"If I say no, you'll go to New Hampshire anyway."
"No, of course not. I'll stay with you either way."
She swerves her head to look at me. "You would give up what you want to be with me?"
"Yes, of course." I clasp her hands between mine. "I love you, Elena."
"How can you be sure after such a short time?"
"I trust what I feel." Lifting her hands, I kiss her fingertips. "I needed fourteen months to decide I loved Raisa. After a week with you, I knew what we have is real, more real than anything I found with her. I trust you, I want you, and I love you."
Her lips twitch upward at the corners twice, then she lets the smile take over, lighting her up from the inside out. "I love you too, Chance."
Something like euphoria sweeps through me, and I can't stop myself from dragging her in for a deep, passionate kiss. She tastes like brandy, but she feels like heaven.
When we separate our mouths, I ask, "So which is it, New York or New Hampshire?"
Elena smiles, and the sweetness of it stabs a wonderful pain into my chest. "I grew up in a small town, and I'd love to go to New Hampshire with you."
I grin, and then I carry her into the bedroom and make love to her. We don't leave her bed for two hours. That's when I receive a text message from Raisa asking me to meet her at her apartment. Elena tells me to go and get it over with.
After kissing Elena goodbye for five minutes, I head for Raisa's.
She answers the door still dressed for court, in her favorite black skirt and jacket. "Come in, Chance."
No "darling" this time. And her entire demeanor, from her facial expression to her posture, is somber.
We go into the living room. She sits in the armchair, while I take the sofa.
Raisa stares down at her hands, wringing them like she has something stuck on her skin and can't get it off. "You and Elena must hate me. I've been horrible to you both. I'm sorry."
I can't speak. Raisa Volkov never apologizes. When I open my mouth, about to try to speak, she holds up a hand to silence me.
"Let me talk first," she says, with no trace of her usual haughtiness. "Ever since you filed for divorce, I've convinced myself you would come back to me eventually, that the separation was a phase you needed to go through. When the final decree came through, it was like a sucker punch. I still refused to accept you didn't want me anymore."
"I know."
She rubs her neck, wincing. "When I introduced you to Elena, I knew you were attracted to her. How could you not be? She's very pretty and very intelligent. Still, I didn't think you would actually get involved with her. I've been in denial for weeks, until I couldn't ignore the truth anymore. Paying the hotel desk clerk to spy on you was unforgivable."
"What are you getting at, Raisa? I know all of this already."
She squeezes her eyes shut, sucks in a breath, and looks at me. "You can both have your jobs back, if you want them. I haven't blacklisted Elena, and I never will. In fact, I'll give her a glowing recommendation if she'd rather find a position at another firm."
I watch her for several seconds, unsure whether to trust her change in attitude. "Are you saying you've accepted that I don't love you anymore?"
"Yes. I know it's over between us, and I hope Elena will make you happy. I know I failed at that."
"The problem was that you never really wanted me back. You hate to lose, and for a divorce lawyer to get divorced was too big a loss for you to stand for."
She nods. "I have an appointment with a therapist. Maybe she can help me work out why I could never be satisfied even when I had a good man in my life."
"Your change in attitude is awfully sudden." I probably sound suspicious, and I am.
"I know it seems that way, but this has been coming for a while." She clasps her hands on her lap, swallows visibly, and says, "Everyone at the office heard our argument this morning. Now they look at me like I'm insane, and they've been literally tiptoeing around me. I took a good, hard look at myself today, and I didn't like what I saw."
A clock on a nearby table ticks softly, but the silence between us is deep, the distance vast. We don't really know each other anymore. After more than a year of denial, I believe Raisa has finally accepted the truth.
"I'm glad you've come to your senses," I tell her, "but I won't be coming back to work with you. Neither will Elena. We talked about it earlier and realized we want something else."
A sigh rushes out of Raisa, deflating her posture. "I understand. And I wish you well, Chance. Elena too. She really was the best paralegal I ever hired."