by Apryl Baker
“Well, I can see her point.”
“What?” The hell?
“Dimitri, you kept her around longer than the others. She probably thought she meant more to you, that she was the ‘one.’ I don’t know why this didn’t happen sooner.”
“Becca, we discussed this earlier. They know the score…”
“Yes, and had you tossed her away like you did the rest, this probably wouldn’t be happening, but you gave her hope by letting her stick around. This is as much your fault as it is hers. And possibly fate’s way of getting a good laugh at your expense because of how you treat women.”
“Fate can fuck off,” he said darkly, shoving his sunglasses on. “She needs to get her kicks somewhere else.”
“Karma, honey bear. Karma always comes back around and bites you in the ass.”
She snickered, and he wanted to spank her. Dammit, she was right. He had brought this on, and it wasn’t really all Charlene’s fault. He’d led her on.
“I’m an asshole, okay? I admit it.”
“Good. You need to understand your manwhorish ways can have serious repercussions. Like creating a stalker.”
“Fuck.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “You think she’s a stalker?”
“Well, she’s pretty much splashed her intentions all over your social media, and now she’s shown up here.” Becca changed the channel to country, and he snorted. He didn’t mind; it was growing on him. “I think it’s something to at least consider. Is she dangerous? I don’t think so, but she might cause some trouble. You don’t want her spreading stories about you where your fans will see it. Some will come to your defense, others will wonder if it’s true, and even more still will take up her cause.”
“Her cause?”
“Used by the self-proclaimed manwhore and tossed aside.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. You’re a romance writer who writes about happily ever afters, D. It won’t sit well with some people.”
He used the Bluetooth to call Viktor, starting to really worry.
He picked up on the third ring. “What do you want, motherfucker?”
Becca’s eyebrows made a beeline to her forehead, shocked. Dimitri laughed at her expression. “Man, watch your mouth. Becca’s in the car with me.”
“Little Becca from high school?” Viktor’s accent was so much thicker than his own. Even he had to stop and decipher it.
“Yeah, little Becca from high school. We’re on our way to set up for this signing thing.”
“Apologies, Becca.” There was a shuffling sound then Viktor telling people to get the fuck out.
“Hi, Viktor. No need to apologize. I’m friends with this one, after all. He cusses in both English and Russian on most days. If my ears haven’t burned off by now, I think you’re good.”
“I always did like you, tikhaya devushka.” Viktor laughed. “Is he behaving?”
“When has he ever?”
“Hey!” Dimitri cut them off. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”
“We know that, motherfucker…shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, dammit.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Dimitri rolled his eyes.
“What does tikhaya devushka mean?” Becca asked, cutting off their argument.
“Loosely translated, it means quiet girl.”
“Huh, I guess that fits. I am quiet.”
“I almost never got you to talk to me in school. Didn’t stop me from checking in on you, though.”
“I have a question for you.” Dimitri didn’t like the wistfulness in Viktor’s voice. Becca did not belong to his brother, and if Viktor had thoughts of that kind, he’d better fucking move on from them.
“What?”
“I seem to have gained a stalker.”
That sobered his brother up. “Stalker? What makes you think so?”
Dimitri told him about Charlene and her antics. “I don’t think she’s dangerous, more pissed than anything, but Becca is worried about what she might do to cause trouble on social media and for my books.”
“She might be dangerous. Do you know if she’s on any medication? Got to know what brand of psycho we’re dealing with here.”
“Taking medication doesn’t mean she’s a psycho.” The quiet force in Rebecca’s voice startled both brothers. “I take medication, and I’m not a crazy person. Insinuating that medication makes you crazy is offensive, Viktor Ronin Kincaid. You should be ashamed of yourself for stereotyping like that. It’s debilitating to those of us who need medication for other reasons.”
“I, ah…” Viktor paused. “I’m sorry, Becca. You’re right.”
“Just don’t assume shit in the future, okay?” She looked out the window, and it nearly killed Dimitri to see the hurt on her face.
“I’ve dealt with some serious situations where schizophrenics and the like refused to take their meds and hurt people, Becca. That is what I was referring to, not to everyone in general. Forgive me?”
“Sure.”
Neither brother said anything for a minute, realizing how much Viktor’s stereotyping had affected her, only Viktor didn’t know why she’d gotten so upset. Dimitri would call him later and fill him in. He needed to understand it. Becca was a permanent fixture in Dimitri’s life, and his brothers needed to understand her so they wouldn’t upset her.
“I’ll get Mason working on this, doing background checks and seeing how deeply her fixation is rooted. Social media will tell us a lot. Do you think you might need some security?”
“No. Right now, it’s just a nuisance. I hope she got the point when I told her to fuck off earlier.”
“Language!” Viktor barked. “You don’t cuss around a lady. Mama would wash your mouth out, motherfucker…fuck, I did it again.”
“Shut up before you can’t get your foot out of your ass.” Dimitri smiled, but then it faded. “Viktor, has Mama said anything to you about Papa’s health?” He remembered his brother had been to Russia right before Christmas.
“Yes.” A heavy sigh rolled over the line. “He’s not well. She’s worried about him. When I was there, he was having issues. He’d cough so hard you’d think he was dying of pneumonia. Has he not gone to the doctor yet?”
“He has an appointment next week. He was coughing when I talked to him earlier too.”
“Let me know what the doctor says?” Viktor sounded as worried as Dimitri felt.
“Yeah, man. I will.”
“Okay, brat. Text me this woman’s details, and I’ll get Mason on this right away. Once I get his report, if I think you need security, I’ll send someone. No argument!”
“He won’t argue.”
“You let me know, Becca, if this woman becomes a problem. He won’t, thinking he can handle it.”
“Mr. Neanderthal over here? Yeah, I’ll let you know.”
Viktor laughed and said his goodbyes. Dimitri shook his head. “I am not a Neanderthal.”
“Could have fooled me.” Becca was interrupted by the GPS announcing they’d arrived at their destination. She went quiet, and he saw the fear override every other emotion on her face.
He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the Jeep. Several other cars were currently being unloaded. Becca’s eyes darted everywhere, her breath coming out in short gasps.
“Easy, baby.” He linked his fingers in hers. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” He tugged on her hand until she did as he asked. “Just look at me. I’m not going to let anything hurt you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and took several deep breaths, working to calm herself down. Dimitri watched the effort it took and found himself so proud of her, he wanted to kiss her. That wouldn’t help her right now, though. She needed to trust him, to be at ease with him. She needed her friend.
“We can sit here for as long as you need, same as we did last night. If you can’t go in, then we won’t go in. I’ll take you back to the hotel, and we’ll forget this whole nonsense.”
“You can’
t do that, Dimitri. Your readers…”
“Aren’t as important to me as you, Rebecca.” He gave her a lopsided grin.
She searched his face, and it utterly surprised him when she nodded and said, “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
The North Charleston Convention center was massive, its wall of windows daunting. Becca stared at it with trepidation. It held so many people, people who would be crowding her, asking questions, demanding answers. Her hands shook, and she shoved them in her pockets. Dimitri kept glancing at her, but she refused to look at him. He needed her to do this, and dammit, she would.
No matter what their relationship might be right now, she was determined to make him understand how much people loved not his face, but the words he wrote. If only he’d read the hundreds of emails telling him how much his words had resonated with people. He’d know that, yes, he was gorgeous eye candy, but it was his books that kept his readers around.
“You think they have carts or something we can use to haul this inside?” Dimitri pulled her out of her quiet determination with his aggravated question. He was staring at the mess in the Jeep with a bit of fear. His legs had to be killing him. He’d been limping when he got out of the vehicle. Realizing it, he’d straightened his spine and ignored the pain.
Idiot.
He should know better than to ignore his body’s warning signs. Pain was a clear indicator he needed to slow down and rest, but he was too much the macho man to ever admit he was anything less than the big, strong man he portrayed.
Idiot.
“I planned for this.” Pushing him aside, she dug around until she found the two rolling carts she’d bought and had shipped to the hotel as well. Thank God she’d had the good sense to put them together while he’d been out running from her feelings. She pulled them out and set them up. “See? We can load everything onto these and roll them into the building.”
“I would never have thought of this.” He looked impressed. Of course, he wouldn’t have. He’d never been to one of these things, and he never concerned himself with researching them or even bothering to read the countless emails he’d gotten. Stupid ass.
By the time they were done, everything was loaded onto the carts, aside from what had to be carried. Becca looked out over the parking lot. People were everywhere. Her eyes zeroed in on the entrance where even more people milled about. Her palms started to sweat. How was she going to do this? Her heartbeat was already speeding up with only the people hanging out at the entrance.
Nope, she couldn’t do this. Nope, nope, nope.
Dimitri’s fingers twined with hers, and he pulled her close, his breath tickling her ear. “Easy, Krasivaya. We don’t need to go in until you’re ready.”
And he’d stand here all night if that was what it took. She knew it and appreciated it, but did she appreciate it enough to force herself to willingly walk into a crowded building and risk a panic attack so severe it might hospitalize her?
“I could kiss you until you’re so distracted you don’t even realize you’re in a crowd.”
“What? No!” She turned to face him. “You will do no such thing!”
“Why not?” He sounded so serious. “I want to kiss you.”
“Well, you can’t.” He really needed to stop this nonsense. He was driving her crazy with all the mood swings. One minute he wanted her, friendship be damned, the next he was running away from her because of how she felt about him. The man needed to make up his damn mind.
“Again, why not?” His arm snaked out, snatching her to him. “You want to kiss me, don’t you, Becca?”
“I…” Her mouth went dry at the heat and intensity in his gaze. She wanted to kiss him very badly, but she knew it wasn’t in her best interest to give in to all that heat.
“You know you want to, sweetheart, so why fight it?” He leaned closer until his lips were a mere whisper away. “Kiss me.”
She shoved him, her heart pounding from the need to do just as he’d asked. Instead of doing what she wanted, she grabbed the handle of the cart and started pulling it toward the building, not even registering all the people she’d passed.
The exhibitor space was massive and one of the largest venues on Dimitri’s signing schedule. She’d worked hard to get him a spot here. No way was he ducking out. She stopped and took out her phone so she could pull up the email with his table number. They’d switched his table after she’d convinced Sheila it might be better so no one would be pissed if his lines interrupted their tables. He was table number five along the right wall. It was easy to find, and she took a minute once she’d found it and parked her cart beside it.
Holy hell. She’d done it. She’d walked in through all those people and not panicked at all.
That asshole. She loved him. He’d distracted her so much, she hadn’t thought about the crowds or how they made her feel. Her only thoughts had been about him and kissing him and…she laughed.
“See?” he said softly. “All you need to do is not think about it.”
She jumped, not expecting him to be that close, but she should have known he’d be right behind her. He wouldn’t let her go into this mess alone.
“Sneaky bastard.”
He laughed. “It worked, though.”
Well, it had worked. No denying that. She knew if she let herself look around, all that work would be lost. She could hear everyone, feel the heat rising in the room from all the bodies packed into it. Best to just set the table up and get the hell out.
She directed Dimitri to work on getting his banners set up while she put the wooden rack together so she could start arranging his books in it. The wooden one had been more expensive, but she liked it better than the wire ones.
After a minute, she heard him swearing in Russian. Score one for the banners. At least she wasn’t the only one whose ass those things kicked.
“Really, D. It’s just a banner.”
“It’s not just a banner. It’s a demon from hell.” Dimitri let out another string of curses when the metal rod hit him in the face.
“You need some help there, slugger?”
That voice, she knew—Sara Jane. Becca hoped she hadn’t pulled along more people wanting to meet the man candy. Taking a deep breath to fortify her nerves, she turned and saw not only had she brought at least three other people, they were all laughing at Dimitri, who looked ready to murder the inanimate object in his hands.
“This fucking thing…how do you put them up?”
Sara Jane laughed and took the banner from him. She made quick work of it, grinning like an idiot. “See? It’s so easy my six-year-old could do it.”
“Easy?” He glared her down. “That is a fucking nightmare. Whoever invented that shit needs to be shot.”
“Is he always this babyish?” Sara directed the question at Becca. Her words froze as eyes turned to her. She clenched her fist, trying to gain control of the panic fighting to consume her. Breathe in, breathe out. Slow, deep breaths. She could do this.
“Always.”
There, she got one word out, and it didn’t sound too strangled. Well, it did, but it was her lie, and she was going to tell it. Becca needed all the help she could get right now.
“Nice to finally meet you, Becca.” Sara came over and hugged her. She went a little stiff but managed to at least attempt to hug her back. When Sara pulled back, she saw a bit of confusion in her eyes. “You okay, hon?”
Becca nodded, the urge to dash out of the room growing as more and more people filtered in and started chatting closer and closer to their table. “Long day.”
“I get that. It was an awful drive down. We hit traffic and road work. Beast of a ride. Let me introduce these fools who wanted to meet y’all.”
“Meet Dimitri, you mean?” She couldn’t help the wry smile that was tugged out of her despite all the panic.
“Ha ha, yeah. They all want to meet him.”
Becca tuned her out as she started to introduce everyone and focused instead on the sw
irls in the carpet and controlling her breathing. As long as no one came any closer, she could do this. The panic was there, and it could overwhelm her, but she was controlling it. No small feat.
Dimitri startled her when he caught her hand and pulled her to him. His concerned gaze met hers. He knew the panic was rising. No one else seemed to have noticed it, or at least wrote it off as being tired, but not Dimitri. He understood it, having witnessed it so many times this weekend.
“Becca is the only reason I’m able to do anything. If not for her, I’d be stuck marketing my ass off and no words would get written.”
“You do all of his promo images, don’t you?” This from the short, dark-haired girl. She looked familiar, but Becca couldn’t place her.
She dug her fingers into Dimitri’s side, not meaning him any pain, but needing something to clutch on to as she attempted to speak with all the panic trying to rise up and choke her.
“I do. He and Photoshop are mortal enemies.”
“It’s true. I deleted the damn thing in a fit of spite after it kicked my ass.”
“Do you do work for any other authors? I really need someone who can make them for me. Mine are terrible, not at all fancy like Dimitri’s. Those promo images sell our books as much as the actual covers do. I’m not artsy, and it shows.”
“I’ve never really worked with anyone else.”
“I’d pay whatever you wanted. Your images are gorgeous.”
She noticed several of the other women were listening and nodding. She’d never really thought about it before. Graphic design was what she’d gone to school for. Maybe she should think about it, at least?
“Why don’t you guys bring Becca your business cards, and she can contact you after the signing is over?” Dimitri suggested. “That is, if I let her. She is my PA, after all.” He gave them all his sexy grin, and they reacted the same way most women did. Their eyes widened and their cheeks pinked up. And it got their attention off Becca. She was showing signs of stress, and he didn’t want her to have an all-out attack in front of everyone. She’d never forgive him.