54. Natalia

54

NATALIA

"Can I get the birria beef sandwich to go, please?"

The waitress eyes my half-full plate of carbonara. "Of course, ma'am."

Katya and Mila share a pointed look before Kat whistles. "A second lunch for later? You're really taking the ‘eating for two' thing to heart, huh?"

"It's not for me; it's for Andrey. He usually works through lunch and forgets to eat, so I want to bring him…" I trail off when they exchange yet another look. "What? You two keep doing this thing. It's driving me insane."

"Well," Kat says, folding her hands on the table in front of her, "Mila and I couldn't help but notice that you've been remarkably happy these past few days."

Mila nods her agreement. "Ever since you and Andrey had your little lockdown in the pool house. Did your mental breakdown bring you together?"

"Hey!"

Mila shamelessly refuses to take it back. "Come on, Nat. You barely moved for days. It was fucking terrifying."

Katya nods in reluctant agreement.

"Don't get me wrong," Mila continues. "I don't blame you at all. Dealing with a drunk, angry Viktor is no joke. I have the scars to prove it. It's enough to drive even the strongest woman into disassociation."

She's being generous. I happen to know that neither Katya nor Mila would have shut down the way I did.

"It was a bad moment," I admit.

"No, babe," Mila argues, "a ‘bad moment' is the snakeskin coat I decided to wear to my twenty-first birthday party."

Katya jumps in with relish. "A ‘bad moment' is realizing that you already used the last condom in your purse and the hot guy you've been chasing for a month is all out, too."

"A bad moment is?—"

"I get it!"

"We're getting side-tracked," Katya says, steering us back to the original topic. "The point is, you've been doing really well since then."

"And we can't help wondering why." Mila wags her brows.

In case she isn't being obvious enough, Katya asks, "Are you and Andrey a thing now or what?"

I glance down to my phone in hopes it'll save me from getting backed into this particular corner. It hasn't pinged once since we sat down to lunch, but that doesn't stop me from hoping.

Nope. Nothing.

Disappointment claws at my chest, and I meet my friends' eyes. "We're not together, but we're… getting along."

Katya sags. "Seriously? We were so damn sure?—"

"He's spent every night at the pool house!" Mila says. "You two have to be a thing."

I purse my lips at Mila. "I thought you were done spying on me."

She shrugs. "I happen to be sleeping with one of your bodyguards. It's pillow talk."

I slash my arms through the air. "I didn't come out to lunch to be interrogated. Let's talk about something else. Literally anything. Nice weather we're having. How ‘bout those Yankees? Any new movies?—"

Mila turns to Katya. "There are stages of grief, but are there stages of love, too?"

"If there are, denial must be the first step in both," Katya declares.

I groan and bury my face in my hands. "I regret the day I introduced the two of you."

Mila ignores me. "I'll just ask Leonty to be more alert when he's on night duty around the pool?—"

"Yes, he's sleeping over," I cave. "But no, we're not sleeping together. We're sleeping, but we aren't sleeping sleeping. No sex. Okay?"

They exchange another glance.

"How is that humanly possible?" Katya asks. "Didn't he take you out for some big, romantic dinner the other night?"

I can't help but smile at the memory. "I don't think I'd go that far. But it was really nice. We compared parental horror stories, a rousing game of ‘What's Worse, A Dead Dad Or A Shitty One'? The best part is that everybody loses. Then we drove our leftover food to a homeless encampment and passed it around."

Another incredulous glance.

Katya turns her frown on me. "Okay, you're right—that is not even remotely romantic."

"I guess you had to be there." I lean forward. "Look, Shura and Leonty aren't like Andrey. They're open and ready to put themselves out there. Andrey is… reserved. He keeps everything inside. Getting some details out of him is a big step forward."

Mila and Katya exchange another look.

"You two do that again and I'm gonna shove your faces into the butter dish," I warn.

"Okay, I believe her about the no sex thing," Katya announces a bit too loudly. "Natalia gets cranky when she isn't getting any action."

Action. Like that's the missing piece. How do I make them see that sex with Andrey has always been easier than breathing?

But this stuff—talking, sharing, opening up to one another—that's always been the complicated bit.

Katya and Mila are conducting another telepathic conversation as they try to puzzle me out, and the fact they've gone from sworn enemies to friends in such a short amount of time is almost enough to make me believe in miracles.

If they can grow together, maybe Andrey and I can get along, too.

No matter what my friends say about the two of us, that's as much as I'm willing to hope. Sure, he's been attentive and patient and kind. Sure, he's opened up to me. He may even enjoy sleeping with me on occasion.

But love?

Lord knows I've made plenty of mistakes when it comes to Andrey Kuznetsov—but I won't make that one.

Falling in love with him would be the worst mistake of all.

I walk into Andrey's office with his to-go container, expecting to find him poring over paperwork at his desk.

Instead, I find two guns where the paperwork ought to be.

What the hell?

I hear him in the adjoining bathroom, but I can't take my eyes off the guns, glinting under the sunlight streaming in through his open windows. When Andrey emerges, I blurt, "There are guns on your desk."

His jaw tightens. "How was lunch?"

"Good. Why are there guns on your desk?"

He buttons his shirt cuffs and walks over to me. "I have a meeting in half an hour."

"And that requires guns?"

"It's just insurance, lastochka . Nothing to worry about."

His smile is cool and confident, but it has my heart beating erratically, chasing out all the air in my lungs.

"Who, me? Why would I worry?" My voice shifts up a couple of octaves. "I'm sure it's perfectly normal to go to meetings armed. Remind me to clean my bazooka for the board meeting next week. Oh, and I'm getting tea with Annie next weekend, so I should probably make sure my AK-47 is?—"

"Hey." His hand curls against the side of my cheek. "My normal is different than yours. And just because I've got guns on me doesn't mean I'm going to need them."

"But there's a chance you might?"

He hesitates. "Only a very small one."

"What's this meeting about?"

It's the first time I've asked him a direct question about his work. I half-expect him to shut me down and tell me to go back to the pool house. Part of me thinks that might be the right call. The less I know, the better.

"You want to know?" he asks.

I nod, trying to convince us both.

"I'm meeting with some investors to discuss a cross-country expansion. It's just a logistics chat."

My gaze flickers back to the guns on the table. "Will you be going alone?"

"Shura, Efrem, and Yuri will be with me. Vaska might join, too."

I chew on my bottom lip. This is exactly why I can't fall in love with a man like Andrey. He's always walking into danger, dodging death, ducking enemy fire. I wouldn't survive being worried about him all the time.

"Don't worry, little bird." He presses a kiss to my mouth. "I've handled a lot worse with a lot less."

I watch, terrified as he tucks the guns away—one in the waistband of his pants, the second in his jacket pocket. Then he turns and points to the takeout container. "You brought me something?"

"Uh, a sandwich from the restaurant… You usually work through lunch and I…"

Andrey is looking at me like he's just figured something out. His eyes are bright and my heart is thrumming, and— shit.

It's already too late.

"Wait here," I order, whirling out of his office and running down the hall.

He calls after me, but I keep moving. I rush to the pool house, retrieve what I need, and then fly back to the office as fast as I can.

He's still waiting by the entrance for me. "Where'd you go?"

"I went to get this." Grabbing his hand, I fold something into the center.

He stares down at the golden necklace in his palm. "This is your locket."

"My mom's locket, yes. I want you to keep it with you. Think of it as… as a good luck charm. A protection amulet." I shrug. "Whatever you want to call it."

He lifts his gaze to mine. "This is your amulet, Natalia."

"And I'm giving it to you."

Because it's all I can do. As stupid and ultimately useless as this gesture is, it's the only thing I can do for him. It's still more than I got to do for my parents.

"And you should know…" My voice trembles. "… it means a lot to me. So, you have to bring it back for me. I want the necklace personally delivered. By you. In one piece."

His smile is knowing as his fingers close around the locket. He fastens the chain around his neck and tucks it out of sight beneath his shirt. Then he kisses my forehead before he dips down to kiss my belly, as well.

"I'll bring it back safe and sound."

Then Andrey is gone.

Leaving me with a gaping chasm of dread in the pit of my stomach.