39. Natalia

39

NATALIA

"Where's Katya?"

Mila checks her phone from the couch where she dropped it after the fourth time I asked the same question. "She just texted. She's on her way."

I appreciate Mila being here, I do. But Kat is my hype girl. She knows what to say to get my ass in gear. Sure, sometimes, she talks me into crashing a wedding and I end up pregnant with twins, but a lot of the time, she says just enough to get me out the door and having a good time.

I've never needed that so badly.

I eye the midnight-blue dress hanging on the wall with skepticism. "What if it doesn't fit?"

Mila groans. "Your makeup looks great, the shoes won't break your toes, and the dress is going to fit like a dream. We've been over this."

"The dress fit last week, but I think I put on ten pounds in the last two days."

"That's literally, scientifically impossible."

"Five pounds then. I swear."

"Natalia," Mila sighs, "you need to—" I'm positive she's about to tell me I need to get a grip, which wouldn't be completely unjustified. But then the door bursts open and Katya rushes in.

"Sorry!" she cries. "I couldn't get a taxi and it was raining downtown and… It doesn't matter. Natalia, you look amazing."

"Don't lie to me."

She turns to Mila with a grimace. "Things aren't going well, then?"

I drop my face into my hands. "What are the chances I can get away with pretending to be sick?"

"None at all," Katya declares, snatching the dress from the hanger and walking it over to me. "I'm not gonna let you back out of this."

"Why not?"

"Because this is a big freaking deal, Nat. And you need to make an impression tonight."

"I know. Hence why I want to back out. I look like a planet."

"Hellooo, Earth to Natalia?" Mila waves a hand in my face. "Do you think Andrey would take you anywhere if he wasn't desperate to show you off?"

Katya wraps an arm around me. "Look at how far you two have come, Nat. There was a time when Andrey was all frowny and sullen and wouldn't share your bed. He's still two of those things, but at least he's sleeping with you again."

I swat her arm, but she just laughs.

"Now, here you are, eight months pregnant with his babies, ready to step into his world. Isn't this what you wanted?"

I give her a silent, reproachful nod.

"Verbal answers only, please." She curls a hand around her ear. "I need to hear you tell me how right I am."

"Yes," I mumble. "Yes, that's what I've always wanted."

She claps her hands together like that settles it. "Beautiful. Because I'm failing to see this as anything but a good day."

I lift my eyes to my two best friends. "This is a big step. Meeting the partners and their wives."

"It is a big step," Katya agrees. "For a man like Andrey, introducing you to his allies is like a proposal."

That's not as comforting as she thinks it is, but before I can point that out, she reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

I snatch her wrist out of the air. "What the hell is that?"

Katya rips her hand away and tucks it out of sight. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." I bring her arm closer to inspect it. "That's a bruise. Are those fingerprints ?"

Mila runs a gentle finger over the welts. "You should ice that, Kat."

"It's really not a big deal," she insists. But her voice is far too high-pitched for me to believe her.

I cross my arms. "If Shura did that to you?—"

She gasps. "Of course Shura didn't?—!"

"Someone grabbed you, Kat. Who was it?"

She's pale and fiddling with the ends of her hair, which is a classic caught-in-the-act Kat move. "I was at a club with… colleagues. People were drinking. A guy got obnoxious. It was no big deal. Someone pushed him off of me, and I'm fine."

"Who was the guy?"

"Who the hell knows?" Katya shrugs. "Some nobody who thought I was interested. I let him know that I wasn't. End of story."

I squint down at the ugly, purple bruise. "Are you sure that's the whole story?"

"Would you stop making a big deal about this? I don't need Shura to—" She breaks off mid-sentence. "Just don't mention this to Shura, okay? He'll overreact, as usual."

"I won't need to tell him. If I noticed the bruise, he definitely will."

"Not if I avoid him until it's gone."

"Kat!"

She grins cheekily at me. "Knew I could count on you. Okay, enough about me. We've got to get Cinderella ready for the ball."

"We're not done talking about this," I warn with a point of my chin toward her wrist.

"Yes, yes, to be continued. Now, up you go. Time to get dressed."

Between Mila and Kat, they help me into the dress. After I'm zipped up, they steer me in the direction of the mirror and step aside with "tadas" and jazz hands aplenty.

The dress really is gorgeous. It has an empire waist that flows over my bump. The sheer sleeves sit off-shoulder and make me feel like a grown-up fairy princess. I look quite nice, actually.

"Are you a knockout or what?" Katya chides, nudging me on the shoulder. "This dress is gorgeous."

With his trademark flawless timing, the door opens and Andrey walks in. "It's not the dress," he remarks the moment he lays eyes on me. "It's the woman wearing it."

Katya meets my eyes in the mirror. Swoon , she mouths.

She's not wrong.

"But there is one thing that's missing," Andrey adds, revealing a stack of three velvet boxes from behind his back.

"Ooh" Kat cries, clapping her hands together. "I smell jewelry."

Andrey snaps open the latch on the biggest box to reveal a gorgeous necklace dripping in diamonds and green emeralds. "I thought it would complement your eyes."

I can only gawk at it, open-mouthed and breathless. "It's stunning . "

He opens the remaining two boxes, containing a bracelet and a matching pair of earrings. Both pieces are made up of the same combination of glittering diamonds and large emeralds.

"Andrey, this is too much."

"You're not obligated to wear any of it. I just wanted to give you the option."

"‘Not obligated'?!" Katya shrieks. "Of course she's obligated! I obligate you, Nat. Look at those diamonds. They deserve to be worn. Put them on or I'll put them on for you. Either that or steal them and wear them myself."

Clearly outnumbered, I shrug. "Oh, alright. Put them on me."

Katya plucks the diamond necklace from its perch like just touching it is enough of a treat. "But first, let's take off the cherries?—"

"No!" I grab my chain before she can get her hands on it. "The cherry pendant stays on."

Katya gapes at me. "But Nat, it doesn't go with the whole look."

"Don't care. I'm not taking it off."

Katya looks at Andrey for some support, but he just shrugs. "It's up to her."

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to put the rest of my jewelry on over the cherries resting just above my heart.

Andrey leans over my shoulder and presses a kiss to the nape of my neck. "You look perfect."

Feeling confident, I take Andrey's arm and he leads me downstairs, where our chariot awaits in the form of a stretch limo. He opens the door and waves me into the backseat, and for one foolish, wild second, I see a flash of an alternate reality.

In that reality, I'm not wearing a midnight blue dress; I'm wearing a snowy white one. I'm holding a bouquet of white roses and Andrey is in a tux. There are rings on both our fingers and the sky overhead is a fluttering mass of doves.

The vision disappears when I turn back to the house and see Shura standing in the entrance. Apparently, he won't be joining us for dinner, but he will be part of the security detail.

When Katya sees him, she tucks her bruised arm behind her back.

"Ready to go?" Shura asks. He's talking to me, but his eyes are trained on Katya, who seems to be playing hide-and-seek behind Mila.

Every time Shura tries to move closer to her, she moves in the opposite direction. I have to admit, I understand the instinct. The last time a man touched me without my permission, he disappeared. Katya probably doesn't want the same drama.

I maneuver my whale-like body into the back of the stretch limo with Andrey, but just as he closes the door, I see Shura snatch Katya's wrist.

"Oh, shit."

"What's going on?" Andrey is immediately on high alert.

"I don't really know," I admit.

Andrey follows my gaze out the window. Shura and Katya are yelling at each other, their muffled voices making their way into the limo.

Scowling, Andrey hits the top of the limo's ceiling. "Let's go, Vaska."

"Without Shura?"

Andrey glances out the window. "I'd say he's got enough to deal with."