by Roxie Rivera
She had a point. I had been awfully obnoxious about getting the scoop on the between-the-sheet action Benny and Erin shared with their men. I decided payback was only fair. "All right. Fine. But try to keep it to one text an hour. He's going to think I'm a freak if I'm running to the bathroom every twenty minutes to answer you."
"Well, we wouldn't want him to learn the truth about you until after he's bought you a big, snooty yacht."
"Bitch," I hissed with a giggle. Playing along, I added, "Well, if he does you're not welcome on my big, snooty yacht."
Still giggling, she waved at me and wound her way through the crowd toward Ivan. Hand in hand, they left the bakery. A short time later, Vivian popped in for a quick bite to eat and to congratulate Benny on the successful launch. Before she could leave, Ada Montoya, the news anchor for the hugely popular Spanish channel in Houston, dragged her aside for a quick interview about the mural she'd painted.
As I watched Vivian chattering away in Spanish, it occurred to me that if she was serious about making it as an artist after she finished school next May she was going to need a strong internet presence. I'd been the one to design her promo materials for her last art show, the one in the spring that had done so well, but I could see that she wasn't thinking big yet. She always downplayed her talent but I knew she was going places—successful places.
By noon, I'd squared away the last of the press I'd booked. I sensed Benny was starting to feel the fatigue of launching a new business and early pregnancy but she didn't let it slow her down. Though I worried about her overdoing it, one look at Dimitri's concerned face told me it was under control. As protective as he was of Benny, I figured he'd have her tucked away in his truck and home for a nap within the hour.
With my part in the day complete, I gave Benny one last hug and promised to run interference with any publicity issues she forwarded my way. As my one and only client, I could offer her my total attention.
It felt so weird to be home alone at the apartment in the middle of the day. For the longest time, I sat on the couch and stared at the French doors leading to the balcony. I felt completely at a loss. I didn't know what to do with myself.
Napping seemed like the only real option so I stripped down to my undies and crawled into bed. After setting my alarm, I tugged the covers over my head and tried to calm my racing thoughts. I didn't want to think about my unemployed status or the very real possibility that my father was in trouble for something my dumbass cousin had done. I wanted to dream about nice things, about good things.
About Yuri.
His smiling face invaded my thoughts and calmed me. I could picture the way the little lines crinkled around his eyes and the way his grin became lopsided when he laughed. My tummy wobbled as I remembered the feel of his big, warm hand gliding along my thigh and the way his lips felt pressed to mine. My breasts ached as I grew aroused by the naughty images of where that backseat make-out session might have gone. I squeezed my thighs together to ease the throbbing there.
Not surprisingly, my dreams were ridiculously dirty. In bed with my dream Yuri, I indulged all the naughty fantasies that I'd never been brave enough to try out in real life. When I woke up to the sound of my alarm, I shook with desire. Need trembled through me and I wondered if I could deny myself what I wanted so badly.
Staring up at my ceiling, I tried to figure out what it was that scared me so much about making love to Yuri. It wasn't that I was strictly no sex without a wedding band like Vivian. I'd had three lovers since starting college. I'd cared about each of those men and they'd all loved me so it wasn't that the experiences had been cheap or dirty. They were simply unsatisfying.
Deep down inside, I worried I was broken. Here, in the safety of my own room, climaxing was easy. Once I got between the sheets with a man, I turned to ice. I enjoyed the intimacy and closeness of writhing together with a lover but there was no completion for me. There was no release. I often climbed out of bed more frustrated than when I'd slid into it.
So I'd basically sworn of sex after Price had broken up with me a little more than a year ago. He'd been a great boyfriend and we'd had a good time together but he was looking for things I didn't want. The last time I'd stalked his Facebook page, I'd seen that he was engaged. Apparently, he'd found a girl who wanted the same things he did.
I was happy for him. I was happy for anyone who found someone special to share their lives with but I often wondered if I was too damaged for that kind of happiness. Watching my mother walk out on me had done some crazy things to me. There weren't many people I let get close. Vivian, Erin, Benny, my father—they were the only people I loved and trusted not to betray me.
But Yuri? Was he someone I could trust? I honestly didn't know.
It occurred to me that keeping him at a distance wasn't going to answer that question. I'd never know if he was worthy to be added to the extremely short list of people I loved if I didn't open up and make myself vulnerable.
And it scared me. The very thought of opening myself up to that kind of heartbreak terrified me.
But, if I didn't, I would never know.
And I had to know.
Chapter Five
Dressed in my favorite new dress, I tried to find the courage to enter the restaurant. I'd just watched the valet at the downtown hotspot drive away in my red compact. It wasn't quite a beater but it definitely wasn't nice enough for this restaurant.
A quiver of embarrassment flickered through me at the idea Yuri might have seen me climbing out of the car. Sure, I'd paid cash for the thing after working my ass off my senior year of high school and I was damn proud of it—but Yuri probably spent more on one bespoke suit than I had on the whole car.
I smoothed a hand down the front of my dress. On a shopping trip with Erin last month, I'd fallen in love with the sweet little peplum number the moment I'd spotted it in the boutique. It was a knockoff of the hottest runway styles and fit perfectly in my budget. I'd even had enough left over to splurge on some slingback heels and a cute clutch. This was my first chance to wear it. I hoped it had the same effect on Yuri that it had on the valet guy who nearly broke his neck watching me get out of the car.
With my heart beating in my throat, I stepped into the swanky restaurant. The upscale waiting area was surprisingly busy for a Monday night. My gaze skipped around the seating areas but I didn't see Yuri. Had he already gone to our table?
I waited in line at the hostess station and tried to get a grip on my wild emotions. Nervous. Excited. Anxious. Aroused. My poor body was jumping from one extreme to the next.
"May I help you?" the peppy brunette greeted me with a smile.
"I'm meeting someone for dinner. Yuri Novakovsky."
Her eyes widened slightly. Obviously she recognized his name. Her gaze dropped to the laminated seating chart. When she didn't find anything there, she opened the small black book and ran her fingertip down the reservation list. "I'm sorry, ma'am. There's no reservation for Mr. Novakovsky tonight."
Confused, I whipped out my phone and quickly brought up the email from his assistant. I flashed the screen at the hostess. "These were the details I was sent."
"I'm so sorry. There must have been a mix up." She glanced at her chart again. "I can seat you or you can wait at the bar until Mr. Novakovsky arrives."
"I'd rather sit at a table."
The hostess found an open spot for us, no doubt bumping the people who had been waiting ahead of me. I felt a twinge of guilt but shrugged it off. Yuri obviously came here frequently enough that the hostess and wait staff knew him. If his name got us a table quicker, that was a perk I was happy to enjoy.
Seated in the center rear of the restaurant, I ordered a glass of wine and hoped I wasn't in for a long wait. Certain it was some sort of travel delay keeping Yuri, I tried not to worry. I scanned the restaurant to see if I noticed anyone.
My gaze landed on none other than Ty Weston, wealthy gossiper extraordinaire. He held court at a large round table. I recognized most of
the faces surrounding him. They were a who's who of Texas trust fund babies including Caitlin, his little sister, and Pips Barlow Bennett, his best friend and an heiress to an oil and gas mega fortune.
Our gazes clashed across the restaurant. Ty smiled and lifted his glass. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and smiled instead. Turning away, I pretended not to notice his lingering stare. It wasn't because he was interested in me. That's for damn sure. Ty was probably the only son of a conservative senator brave enough to be openly gay and living his life out loud and proud. I had to give it to him. The guy had huge balls.
My cell phone chirped. Sure it was Erin, I grabbed it out of my clutch. It was Ty sending me a direct message via Twitter. I glanced at his table but he was engaged in a conversation with Pips.
Hope I didn't cause any problems with the pic the other day. Was too juicy to pass up. You two looked HAWT.
I hesitated before typing an answer.
Wasn't thrilled to be the focus of your tittle-tattle but I'll live.
I watched him reach into his pocket and withdraw his phone. His mouth curved in a smile. I waited for his reply to ding my inbox.
Better get used to it. Notoriety is the price of dating a man in that league.
If anyone knew what it was like to date a billionaire unable to shake the paparazzi, it was probably Ty. He'd had a couple of high profile romances with an actor and a super-rich heir from some tiny European principality. Like me, he didn't seem to be able to make a relationship stick.
We'd been acquaintances since my first summer interning with the PR firm. At the time, he'd been an intern at the newspaper. We'd worked together on a couple of projects but then I'd caught him digging through the dumpsters behind the building the PR company shared with a law firm that specialized in the energy industry.
I'd been shocked and dismayed to see the fruits of those dirty labors show up on his fledgling gossip site. He'd uncovered a disgusting cover-up but had hurt some innocent people in the process. I'd tried to make him see that two wrongs didn't make a right but he wouldn't be swayed. After that, I'd given him a wide berth.
But, unlike a lot of people, I didn't find him malicious. Misguided? Overzealous? Yes. Malicious? Never. He was just the kind of guy who believed the truth had to be told, no matter the costs.
"Ma'am?" A waiter stood next to the table. "I hate to be so rude but would you mind moving to the bar until your guest arrives? We're running short on space and there's a party with reservations that would like to be seated."
"Oh." Feeling a bit flustered, I nodded and grabbed my wine glass. "Sure. It's no problem."
There was no way I could ignore the curious stares directed at me as I left the busy floor of the restaurant for the equally busy bar. I couldn’t get a seat there so I stood in a corner and tried not to look ridiculous. Sipping my wine, I wondered where the hell Yuri was. He was nearly half an hour late.
Why hadn't he texted? I checked my phone to be sure I hadn't missed one from him. As I typed in a message for him, my phone vibrated as a message from Erin appeared. I switched to it.
Well?! How's it going?!
He's not here yet.
What?
He's not here. We're not on the reservation list.
You at the right place?
Of course!
Sorry. Just wondering. Don't bite my head off. Text him!
I did. I sent him a simple text asking where he was and if we were still on for tonight. Ten minutes later and reaching the bottom of my wine glass, I still hadn't received an answer from him so I texted Erin back.
No answer. Starting to feel stupid.
You're not stupid!
A cold chill crept up my neck. In the back of my mind, an ugly, mean voice started to taunt me. He's playing you and you were dumb enough to fall for it.
I shook off the irritating taunting. Yuri had been so sweet the other night. He wasn't playing around with me. Whatever that nasty voice in my head said, it wasn't true. Yuri wouldn't lead me on just to ditch me like this.
"Lena?"
It wasn't Yuri's voice that called to me but Ty Weston's. He touched my arm and drew my gaze. Smiling, he asked, "Can I buy you a drink while you wait?"
I glanced at my empty wine glass. "Sure."
Ty's hand settled on the small of my back and he guided me through the throng. At the bar, I exchanged my glass of wine for another. He asked for whiskey, neat, and took me to a pair of chairs that had opened up in the opposite corner of the bar area. He sipped his drink and ran his finger over the rim. "It's busy here tonight."
"Very," I agreed and swirled the dark, rich wine in my glass. "Are you out celebrating or is this a regular dinner spot for you?"
"Just a run-of-the-mill get-together."
"Oh."
"You're on a date?"
"Well, I'm supposed to be," I said with a nervous laugh. "He's running late."
Ty sighed and set aside his glass. Leaning forward, he touched my knee. "Sugar, if it's the man I'm thinking of, he's not coming."
"What?" I sat back and laughed. "You must be thinking of the wrong guy. It's Yuri Novakovsky."
Ty wore a reluctant expression as he plucked his phone from his pocket. He tapped at his screen and spun it around for me to see. At first I wasn't quite sure what I was supposed to see. Then it hit me like a ton bricks.
My heart stuttered in my chest at the sight of Yuri in a tuxedo with his arm wrapped around a drop-dead gorgeous brunette in a glimmering gold evening gown. Self-consciously, I rubbed a hand along the front of my knockoff dress. The silver hoops dangling from my ears and the simple bangle bracelets I'd worn looked so cheap compared to the diamonds and emeralds dripping from her neck and ears. No doubt her high heels probably cost more than Vivi and I spent on our rent every month.
What the hell was wrong with me? Had I really believed that I could ever move in that world? I could never be that woman. Obviously Yuri had figured it out before me.
"When was this taken?" I croaked the question as I tried to blink back the tears prickling my eyes.
"A few hours ago at a charity gala in Berlin. Apparently he was there for some pipeline deal." He hesitated before saying, "Her name is Tanya Kruger. She's a media heiress he dated last year."
Of course she was. Ty tried to pull the phone away but I stopped him. "Are there more?"
Compassion flashed in his dark eyes. "You don't need to see them."
"I do." I had to burn the images into my brain so I'd never be stupid enough to think a guy like Yuri would ever want something to do with a ghetto princess like me.
Holding the phone in my trembling hands, I swiped through the gallery. Yuri looked sexy and dashing and so damn happy. In every photo he smiled. In every photo she clung to his arm. Tanya—with the perfect hair and the perfect dress and the perfect face. And the perfect bank account and pedigree no doubt.
It was obvious he'd gotten a better offer while he was away on business. He could have come back to Houston to see stupid, poor, unlovable, unemployed me or he could stay there and rub elbows with Europe's wealthy and elite while a supermodel lookalike gazed adoringly at him.
I handed the phone back to Ty and lifted my glass of wine to my mouth. In three long pulls, I gulped it down. Catching Ty's eye, I said, "You must think I'm a real dumbass."
His gaze never wavered. "I don't think that at all, Lena. I think men like Yuri are used to taking what they want and discarding it when they're done. You're at a disadvantage because you didn't grow up in this glossy world of mine. You learn quickly to spot the users."
Was Yuri a user? He came across as so caring and kind. Was it all an act? I rubbed my face. "God, I'm really losing my touch. There was a time when this wouldn't have happened to me."
Ty gripped my hand. "Don't let him win. He's nothing, okay? He's just some rich ass Russian with some stupid boats."
My lips quirked in a sad smile. "I thought he was something special."
"Oh, honey." He squeezed my fin
gers. "Don't."
Feeling colossally stupid, I cringed at the idea of going home and telling Vivian what had happened. She would be so sweet and supporting but it wasn't what I wanted right now.
And Erin? She would be furious for me and demand that Ivan track Yuri down and kick his ass as a twisted way of restoring my honor. Knowing how tightly she had Ivan wrapped around her little finger, he'd probably do it too. Then Dimitri and Nikolai would be dragged into the mess. The last thing Benny needed was the stress of a huge bust-up in our tightly connected group of friends.
"Hey," Ty tipped my chin with his finger, "come out with me."
"What? No. I'm okay. I'll go home. You don't have to offer to take me out because you pity me."
"I don't pity you. I actually like you quite a bit. I think we got off on the wrong foot. You and me? We have more in common than you think, Lena Cruz."
I wasn't so sure about that but the prospect of a sad night in my apartment didn't seem so appealing. Tempted by his offer, I asked, "What did you have in mind?"
Grasping my hand, he dragged me out of my seat. "Well, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you…"
* * *
The relentless chirp of a cell phone dragged Yuri from a deep sleep. Confused and groggy, he rolled onto his back and tried to remember where the hell he was. Berlin. A hotel. Another night alone in a strange bed.
The cell phone on the bedside table continued to vibrate and ring. If it had been the ringtone from his business phone, he would have let it go but it was his private line, the line to which only a handful of people had access. Worried something had happened in Houston, he snatched up the phone and answered. Fully expecting Ivan, Dimitri or Nikolai, he slipped into Russian. "What's happened?"
"I to-told you! English only!"
Taken aback, Yuri bolted upright at the sound of Lena's slurred voice. The heavy, thumping electronic music in the background made it difficult to hear her. He glanced at the clock and calculated the time in Houston. It was nearly one in the morning there. "Lena? Are you okay?"