Overwhelmed

by Marita A. Hansen

  I glanced at Tom, noticing he was staring at them. He jerked his eyes up and gave me a sheepish grin. Normally, I didn’t mind him looking at women, but right now, I didn’t want him looking at Natalija. I forced the green-eyed monster down, knowing it was selfish.

  Natalija placed her hands on my shoulders and kissed me on both cheeks, something I was used to with my relatives, Croatians having similar traditions to Russians. She let go of me and did the same to Tom, although I noticed her lips lingered on his cheeks much longer, leaving them flushed and smeared with lipstick. Tom didn’t normally like it when my relatives gave him the same greeting, but he seemed to like Natalija, and what man wouldn’t, considering how gorgeous she was.

  She let out a small laugh. “I’ve got lipstick on you, darling,” she said to Tom, wiping it off with a thumb.

  He gave her a shy smile, something he usually reserved for me. Again, I pushed the green-eyed monster down, knowing I wasn’t giving her a chance because of it. Luckily, she placed a hand on my arm instead of Tom’s and directed me up the staircase.

  We entered a large sitting room, something almost the size of our house, although it was much smaller than the ballroom downstairs. The carpet had swirls of blues and greys along with white, while the walls were covered in patterned wallpaper. In the centre of the ceiling hung a large chandelier, reminding me of my parents’ one, just twice the size.

  “Eric will be with us in a minute,” Natalija said. “He’s taking an important business call. Would you like any drinks?” Her eyes moved to Tom. “A wine or spirits?”

  He sat down on the couch. “Rum and coke please.”

  “Certainly.” She turned to me with a smile. “And I’m guessing you would like some fruit punch.”

  “No,” I snapped, unable to hide my annoyance. “Orange juice will do.”

  “With vodka?”

  “Just plain orange juice, with absolutely no alcohol.”

  Looking amused, she nodded and left to get the drinks.

  I sat down next to Tom. He placed an arm over my shoulders. “You don’t like her, do you?” he whispered.

  “Oh, no, I absolutely love her,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  He sniggered. “Good, then you can suck on her tits while I watch.”

  I shoved his arm away. “Like hell,” I hissed.

  “Okay, then she can suck on your tits.”

  I smacked him, not appreciating his laughter. “You’re being an arse,” I snapped.

  “Don’t get me started on arses,” he snorted out, his face turning red from laughing.

  I went to reply back, but got cut short as Natalija reappeared with the drinks. Her eyes went to Tom, who quickly stopped laughing, although a few snorts escaped. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  Tom grinned wide. “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing,” she said, handing him his coke and rum. “So, go on, tell me.”

  He shook his head, appearing greatly amused.

  She turned to me, giving me my orange juice. “What was your husband laughing about?”

  “The usual: he was being crude.”

  She smiled. “Well, don’t stop him, because he looks like a naughty school boy when he laughs.” She disappeared through the doorway again, saying she would be back in a minute.

  “A naughty school boy?” I said. “More like a juvenile idiot.”

  Tom poked his tongue out at me, then started drinking his rum and coke, guzzling it too fast.

  “Slow down.”

  He stopped drinking and gave me a cheeky grin. Noise came from my left, pulling my attention away from him. Eric walked in, wearing smart black pants and an open-necked shirt. He pushed a hand through his hair, which flopped forward, giving him a more casual appearance, since his hair was usually combed back. He smiled at us, the man making my heart kick up a beat. He looked delicious, but right now I wasn’t sure I wanted to feast on him if it meant Natalija would do the same to Tom.

  I glanced at my husband. He wasn’t looking as happy to see Eric as he had been with Natalija. The Russian woman reappeared as Eric opened his mouth.

  “Darling!” she cut him off. “You’re finally here.” She walked up to him and gave him a kiss.

  Eric jerked back in response, asking if she’d been drinking.

  “Only a little bit,” she replied, holding out a drink for him to take.

  Frowning, he took it and sniffed the contents, his frown deepening. “Natalija,” he growled, then threw a glance at us. “Please excuse us for a moment. I need to check on something with Natalija.” He took a hold of her elbow and directed her through the doorway, the two disappearing around the corner. A second later, voices started up in the adjoining room, their words not loud enough to make out, but enough to know they were arguing.

  “What’s that about?” Tom whispered.

  “I think she gave him alcohol.”

  “So?”

  “He’s a recovered alcoholic.”

  “Then why’d she do that?”

  “No idea. Maybe she’s an alcoholic. He did seem annoyed with her at the party.”

  “I don’t want to get in the middle of a domestic. Maybe we should excuse ourselves.”

  “We can’t, they’ve made us dinner,” I said, noticing the delicious smells coming from the next room. “We should at least see it through.”

  “Yeah, I guess so, especially since he’s your boss.”

  “He’s not my boss, I’m my own boss.”

  Tom smiled. “And my boss too.” He leaned forward to kiss me.

  A cough made him pull back. We looked up at a frowning Eric. “Sorry for interrupting, but dinner is ready. Would you like to come through now?”

  We both nodded and got up, following Eric into the dining room. He pulled out a chair for me and indicated for Tom to take the seat at the top of the table next to mine. Tom sat down, his eyes going to Natalija as she walked into the room, holding a large covered dish. There were other dishes already on the table, along with a basket of bread rolls and a couple bottles of wine down Tom’s end.

  Natalija placed the dish she was holding in front of me, then walked around to take the seat across from mine, while Eric sat down at the other head of the table. He smiled across at Tom, although it was a tight-lipped one. “Natalija cooked tonight. She wanted to prepare dinner rather than have the chef do it. She takes great pride in her cooking, so you will have some traditional Russian cuisine.”

  “Sounds good,” Tom said, smiling at Natalija.

  She reached out and took a hold of his hand. “And it tastes very good too, darling,” she purred, making me wish she would stop using that damned darling word. I also didn’t appreciate the way she kept fondling Tom. Yeah, I didn’t like her, but I needed to clamp my mouth shut and be polite, because this wasn’t just about me.

  A hand brushed my arm. I looked over at Eric, who gave me a dazzling smile, the man relaxing me a little. At least I liked him, but maybe that was because he was male and not hitting on my husband. I grinned, remembering how that had gone for my agent—not at all welcomed by Tom.

  Eric’s smile widened, probably thinking my grin was for him. “Would you like some of the chicken dish?”

  “I don’t eat meat.”

  “My apologies, I forgot you told me that, but don’t worry, Natalija made a vegetarian dish for you.” He lifted the lid off the dish in front of him. “No, not that one.” His eyes moved to Natalija. “Which is the vegetarian dish?”

  She let go of Tom’s hand and picked up a bowl in front of her, passing it over to me.

  I laid it down in front of my plate and lifted the lid. “This is moussaka,” I said, pleased. “I love moussaka.”

  “That’s lucky, because I don’t usually cook vegetarian meals,” she replied. “I sometimes make a Russian vegetable broth and casserole, but I wasn’t sure that was suitable, so I asked the chef what a vegetarian Greek person would eat.”

  “I’m not Greek.�
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  “Oh, I assumed you were.” Tom sniggered next to her, capturing her attention. “Why are you laughing now?” she asked.

  He grinned. “She’s Croatian, but was born and bred in New Zealand.”

  “Oh, that makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?” I said, confused.

  Tom indicated to his nose, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

  I glared at him, knowing what he was insinuating. Natalija probably thought I was Greek because of my nose. “It’s not that big,” I hissed at him.

  Tom sniggered again. He liked to tease me about it, since I had a complex.

  “Why are you still laughing?” she asked Tom.

  I answered instead. “He’s implying that you think I’m Greek, because of my big nose.”

  “Greeks don’t have big noses, nor do you, and I only thought you were Greek because of your olive skin and black hair.” She smacked Tom’s hand. “You are a very naughty boy for teasing your wife.”

  Tom continued to snigger, making me wonder if he was tipsy. I looked down at the empty glasses in front of him—the Champagne flute and the tumbler all used. I shook my head at Tom, hoping he didn’t keep drinking, not only because of Eric, but because he became cheeky as well as mushy when he got drunk.

  I returned my attention to Natalija. “Anyway, thank you for the thought, and I do like Greek food, so it’s worked out for the best.”

  She smiled at me, her eyes lighting up as though my thanks had made her day.

  Feeling a little more relaxed, I scooped some of the moussaka onto my plate, then handed the dish to Tom, who shovelled even more onto his.

  “You’re vegetarian too?” Natalija said, looking surprised.

  He nodded.

  She touched his bicep. “But you’re a big, strong man,” she said, as though he couldn’t possibly not eat meat.

  He smiled shyly.

  “How long have you been a vegetarian for?” she asked him.

  “Fifteen years.”

  “Why are you one?”

  He looked over at me. “I did it for Kelly.”

  Natalija’s gaze moved to me. “Why would you make your husband a vegetarian? Men need meat.”

  I smiled at her, not taking offense, because she seemed genuinely bewildered. “As you can see, he’s a big, strong man,” I answered, using her own words. “So, no foul.”

  Reaching over, she scooped some of the chicken dish onto her plate. She put a fork in a piece, then held it out for Tom to eat, totally not getting my pun. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t tasted my apricot chicken,” she said to him.

  Tom held up his hand. “Sorry, I can’t.”

  She looked over at me. “Because of her?”

  “Natalija,” Eric cut in, his tone admonishing. “Please respect other people’s choices.”

  She frowned at him, then turned to Tom. “I do apologise, it was rude of me.”

  “No worries,” Tom replied.

  “Then let’s eat,” she said, appearing happy again.

  I nodded, relieved for the break in the conversation, the woman obviously thinking I was a bad wife for not feeding my husband meat. I bit into the moussaka, unable to stop the moan of pleasure. Everyone looked over at me, making me stop mid-chew.

  “Your cooking is divine,” I said, swallowing it down.

  “Thank you,” Natalija replied, her eyes going to Tom. “What do you think?”

  He bit into it. His face lit up a second later, the woman not only beautiful but a superb cook, unlike me, who slapped things together quickly, too busy to put on a nice meal. It took some of the pleasure out of the moussaka, another thing that I let Tom down on. But, I shouldn’t feel this way, because I was finally contributing to the family, well, as soon as the million dollars hit our bank account. The thought perked me up, even though Tom was gushing to Natalija about what a great cook she was. Even worse, she was lapping it up, again touching his arm as though he belonged to her.

  I felt something brush my ankle. I turned my head in Eric’s direction, finding him smiling at me. He ran his foot up my leg. “Did you have a nice day?” he asked, as Natalija continued to dominate Tom, talking about wanting to feed him dessert. I hoped she meant food, because there was a distinctively sexual undercurrent in her voice.

  “Yes,” I answered, moving my leg away from Eric. He smiled wider, which I didn’t get. Maybe he liked the chase, which was why he was interested in me. Or maybe he liked unattainable women, which was why he went to the club. It was probably a challenge for him, since he could get any single woman to drop their knickers in a second with his looks. The thought flew out of my head as his foot ran up my leg again.

  “What did you do today?” he asked, lowering his voice on the do.

  “Worked and spent time with my family.”

  His expression changed at the mention of my family, his eyes unable to hide his sadness.

  “What did you do?” I asked, wondering what was bothering him.

  He moved his foot away from my leg. “Worked. Though, I would’ve liked to have spent time with my son, but he wasn’t interested.” He leaned over and scooped some of the chicken onto his plate, his mind now elsewhere.

  “How is your son doing at university?” I asked, remembering the arrogant boy ... or man, because twenty-three was hardly a boy.

  “Partying instead of studying—as usual.” His face saddened further. “He wasn’t like this when his mother was alive. He was an honours student, the top of his year.” He started hacking the chicken with his knife.

  I glanced over at Natalija and Tom. Natalija was nodding as Tom talked about work, his face animated.

  I refocused on Eric, wondering how I could cheer him up. “What were you working on?” I asked, hoping it would distract him from his thoughts.

  “Your book tour. I wanted to make sure I got family friendly accommodation for you during your Australian leg.”

  I smiled at him, taken that he would do that for me. “Thank you.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile, but didn’t appear to have stopped thinking about his son, his eyes still looking hurt.

  “I really do appreciate you doing this for me,” I added.

  He nodded. “I understand it’s important to be with one’s children, whether they want you there or not,” he said, seemingly talking about himself.

  “Children can make life very hard.”

  He frowned. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  My mind went to my daughter. “I definitely do.”

  A look of understanding crossed his features. “I should at least be grateful that Tate hasn’t mentioned anything like your daughter has,” he said, without a doubt referring to her suicidal issues.

  I glanced over at Tom, who didn’t appear to have heard him, too wrapped up with talking about the house he was working on.

  I refocused on Eric, lowering my voice. “Things have gotten better, but I still feel I need to stay close to her just in case.”

  He nodded. “I understand that. I wish I had been there for my wife.” He breathed out. “If I had known what she was going to do, I would’ve sold my businesses and spent all my time with her.”

  I leaned over and took his hand. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

  He squeezed my hand back. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For trying to make me feel better. I wish Natalija was more like you. Instead of trying to ply me with liquor, she should be giving me support.”

  I looked over at Natalija. She was now staring at Eric with an annoyed expression. “What are you saying about me?”

  Eric removed his hand from mine. “I’m saying that you shouldn’t give an alcoholic liquor.”

  “You are too uptight, Eric. It was only a little bit of vodka.”

  “A little bit is all it takes to ruin my sobriety.” His eyes moved to Tom. “But, let’s not talk about such sombre things.” He smiled, although it appeared strained. “Instead, let’s
discuss something much more interesting. My friend is building a hotel in Tauranga and would like to talk to you about the possibility of hiring your company to construct it.”

  Tom sat up straight, his face excited. “Who is he?”

  Eric rattled off a name that seemed to make Tom even more excited. The two men started talking about it. My attention shifted to Natalija, who was watching me.

  “Would you like to help me get the dessert?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  She got up and moved around the table, the woman graceful like a dancer. I followed her into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge as she pulled out glasses of parfait, handing me two.

  “Kelly,” she said, her voice stopping me from walking off.

  I turned back to her. “Yes?”

  “What are your intentions with Eric?”

  “To work with him.”

  “You do know he’s infatuated with you.”

  “I doubt it. He probably has a bevy of women at his feet, like at the club.”

  “But, he never invites them to have dinner upstairs with him. He’s trying hard to win you.”

  “Don’t be absurd, he knows I’m married.”

  “And to an extremely handsome man. Are you okay with the foursome Eric has planned?”

  “We were only going to do it if things worked out.”

  She placed a hand on my arm. “Just as long as you don’t lead him on, making him think he has a chance when he doesn’t.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t think that. I’ve already told him I wouldn’t cheat on Tom.”

  “Good, then tonight will just be for fun.”

  “Yes. No. I mean maybe, that’s if anything happens.”

  She smiled. “I can see why Eric likes you. You’re adorable. Not my taste, I like men, but you’re still very likeable. Me, I’m not so likeable. Women usually hate me, they find me too brash. I think it’s the Russian fighter in me. I came from a poor family, and if I was meek and mild, or adorable, I wouldn’t have gotten to where I am today: in the house of a beautiful and rich man. I just wish I was in his bed more often.”

  “You don’t sleep in the same bed?”

  “No, he prefers that we have different rooms. He’s not a man who lets people into his life so easily; he’d rather keep them at a distance. I think it’s because of his dead wife.”