Page 34 of A Spy is Born
The detective takes a seat across from me, and Julian stands next to my chair like some kind of sentry. "Please, sir,” the detective says. "Sit." He waves his hand at a chair nearby but outside our intimate circle. Julian lets out a small sound of protest but does as asked.
"My name is Choi Sang," the detective says. "The ambassador says that you were dancing with Vladimir Petrov when he fell ill."
I nod. "Yes, he seemed fine until he wasn't..." My voice trails off, as if I'm lost in the memory, and I look down at my hands, a tear forming in the corner of my eye.
"How long had you known Mr. Petrov?" Choi asks me.
"I only met him tonight." I bring my eyes up to meet his; they are dark, the pupil and iris almost the same color. "He told me he was a fan."
"Yes," Julian piped up. "Said he'd arranged to be at our table. It happens in our business sometimes."
Choi nods. "I'm sure, but Mr. Petrov was not your average ardent fan."
"What do you mean?" Julian asks.
Choi does not respond, instead he keeps his eyes on me. "So, you just met him tonight, and what was your impression of him?”
I give a slight shrug, my bare shoulders catching the man's attention more than the rise and fall of my cleavage.Interesting."He seemed fine. I'm not sure what you mean."
"Mr. Petrov was a very powerful man."
"Was?" I say, my throat going dry. I don't need to fake the choked tone of my voice. "Is he..." I swallow, cutting off my sentence.
Choi's mouth pulls down into a frown. He didn't mean to give away any information about Vladimir’s condition.
"Jesus, man," Julian says, running a hand through his hair. I turn to see him perched on the edge of his chair, dark hair tousled in a sexy bouffant of stress and seriousness. "Can't you give us a straight answer?"
"I'm here to ask the questions." Choi says, his voice edging on annoyed.
"We are not criminals," Julian says. "This has been a very hard evening for Angela."
I hold up a hand, and he presses his lips together. "I'm okay, but I would like to go back to my hotel. This is upsetting, obviously. Do you have any other questions?" I lower my hand to my lap, placing it on my purse, careful to keep my grip loose.
There is a part of me that wants to open it and pass this detective the ring, to spill my guts. It's strange. Similar to the sensation I get when standing on the top of a building—the completely repressible but still there urge to hurl myself over the edge. Just to feel what it would be like to fall.
"How much longer are you in Shanghai?" Choi asks.
"Just tomorrow." I look to Julian to make sure I'm right about that. He nods in agreement.
"That's the end of our press junket,” he says.
"I may have a few more questions for you.” Choi reaches into his coat and pulls out a card. "In the meantime, if you think of anything, please call."
"Think of anything?" Julian says, his voice incredulous. "She's not a doctor. What is she going to think of?"
"Maybe she saw someone put something in his drink," Choi says, his voice low, his eyes staying focused on me.
I let my jaw drop in shock.
“You think someone poisoned him?" Julian asks, his voice a high whisper.
Choi stands, dismissing us.
I take a moment to pull myself together—or at least appear to do so. I'm ready to flee, Cinderella style—just pick up my skirts and run, leaving not even a glass slipper behind. But I take a moment to slip his card into my purse, to bring tears into my gaze. "I'm very sorry this happened to him," I say. "I hope he recovers." I meet Choi's eyes and watch sympathy slowly enter his expression.
A beautiful woman on the verge of tears is hard to resist, even for the most hardened of men. As I rise, I tip forward, pressing my breasts against the dress so that they are lifted and on display for him. When I peek from under my lashes I see him watching them.He is just a man.
I give a small nod goodbye and then turn to Julian, who is waiting for me. He takes my elbow, his long fingers warm on my bare skin. "I'll get you back to the hotel," he says.
