Page 39 of A Devious Arrangement
My fingers are already typing out an annoyed reply before I realize it’s not Bash. Embarrassment floods me, and I’m glad Nikolai can’t see my face. He’d know in a second that something’s up. And that something being making a deal with Bash Everette would not go over well.
I erase the message I was about to send, replying simply.
Me: All good. I think I have a plan.
Nikolai: You’ve got to give me more than that. I’m worried about you.
My chest tightens. I’ve never lied to my brother like I’ve been doing recently, but there’s nothing I can do about it except pray he never finds out.
Me: I thought we talked about you trusting me.
Nikolai: I know, but something’s up.
My head rests on the desk as I try to come up with a reply. Something that’s mostly true.
Me: I’ve got this. I promise if I needed help, I’d let you know.
I huff out a breath. Better than nothing.
Nikolai: Fine. Keep me updated.
Me: Will do.
My phone makes a thud when it drops into my purse, out of sight, out of mind. I think I’ll go insane if I have to answer another message.
Guilt sits like a stone in my stomach, but I push it down. Working with Bash is the best way to get the tiara, even though it’s a risk. All I have to do is get that tiara, and he and I can go back to acquaintances. After all, he’s using me too. I’m his current amusement. Something to break up the mundane of his daily life. Bash is a man who’s always seeking out the next thing to give him a kick of adrenaline, and right now, it’s me.
He’s playful and fun, where I’m boring and rigid. It won’t take long for him to figure that out. All I need to do is keep him intrigued for long enough to get it before he loses interest.
There’s a dull ache below my ribs, and I press my palm into my chest, refusing to think about what it could mean.
Bash is going to help me get that tiara, and then I’m going to ditch him. It doesn’t matter how sweet his lips taste or how badly my body wants him. A deal is a deal, and I’m the one who’s ending this.
The bell on the coffee shop door jingles as I walk in, the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee filling my nose. Located only a few shops down from my studio, I’ve been coming here since it opened.
Wood lines the walls in a modern pattern. The ceilings are painted black, with industrial lights hanging down, casting the cafe in a warm glow. There’s limited seating, just a few high-top tables, the place designed as a place to shop, not to hang out.
“Anastasia,” the barista calls to me. He’s in his early twenties, and he gives me a cocky smile that reminds me of someone else. He’s wearing a black uniform with a giantMon the front. “You haven’t stopped in in forever. You want the usual?”
I lift and drop my shoulders more casually than I feel. “Yes, please. Just a little busy. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”
Another reminder my life’s been tipped upside down. I hadn’t realized I’d cut this indulgence from my routine, but now I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in here. It’s not like coffee is going to break the bank. We aren’t that poor, even though technically, we’re in the negatives. Still, I unconsciously stopped coming here.
Soon, I’ll get the tiara, give it to my grandmother, and they’ll help bail us out. We’ll be paying them back for the rest of our lives, but it’ll save the company. At least we’ll be better off than we are now.
I’d rather be indebted to my family than the loan sharks my dad chose.
“Here you go, and I threw in a little extra on the house. I want to see you back here.” He slides over a bag, and I can smell the sweet scent of fresh banana bread.
My head tilts to the side as I take him in. He’s acting a bit strange for someone his age. He shouldn’t care this much if I come in or not. He gives me a small smirk, and it’s then that I spot his phone number on the cup. The reason he’s so nice hits me in the chest. Oh my God. He’s hitting on me.
When did this even start?
“Um, thanks,” I mutter. This is entirely too awkward. Holding up the paper cup briefly between us, I give him a tight, closed-mouth smile before scurrying out. The bell dings as the door closes behind me. I don’t have the headspace to think about this.
The ride home is thankfully silent. All I want is to get home and sink into a hot bath.
I sigh as the front door lock clicks open. This morning felt like years instead of hours.
