“Then why are you breaking in?”
“You let me in.”
“After you bribed Olga and the new guard to get in.”
He laughs. “I didn’t bribe Olga. I had her building manager call about a fake emergency.”
“So she wouldn’t be here and tell Max you stopped by. You don’t want him to know you’re here.”
“Yes,” he admits readily. “But you don’t care about that because you want pizza and a half-hour to yourself.”
For the first time in my life, I’m living in luxury. A penthouse worth millions. A driver and a maid. You’d think I wouldn’t be begging for food, but here I am.
Alone all day, but not truly. Olga’s always lurking, reporting my movements not just to Max but to his mother as well. Sergei is friendly but I’m not stupid. He’s loyal to my husband not to me. It’s the same with Pavel and every guard I come into contact with.
Please help me pay off my debt and then I’ll be free.
But I won’t be,I whisper to the imaginary Daisy in my head.
Elijah’s silent, studying me closely. “How did lunch with Yelena go?”
“Fine.” I pick at my pizza crust.
“You go to that pretentious place she loves?”
“Yep.”
“That place is a fucking bore.” He holds out the TV remote and for a second I don’t know what to do with it. I begin clicking buttons, flicking through channels. I stop when I get to an episode of theReal Housewives. I’m not sure which city it is, but I’m calmer now that it plays.
Sugar, carbs, and trashy TV. All my favorite things in one day.
Elijah doesn’t stay long. He takes the empty pizza box, saying he’ll deposit it in the trash on the way out, wiping any evidence of his visit away. After he puts his coat on, he fixes the collar and simply says, “See you next week.”
“What did you get up to?” Max asks an hour later, causing me to jump.
I’m in the pantry and he leans in the doorway, his brow knitted together.
“What?” My chest tightens. I tidied the living room, spraying down the coffee table where Elijah propped his feet up. I straightened the throw blanket on the back of the couch and fluffed the pillows. The TV is back to looking like it’s not one.
Max frowns and a second later I realize it’s because I’m bent down, looking at the bottom shelf. This is hardly the spot we ever hang around and talk.
“Oh.” I straighten, forcing myself to breath. “I was making a list of supplies.”
“For what?” He crosses his arms and I try not to think about why I’m so damn attracted to a guy who doesn’t like me.
“I got a new recipe book. Did you see the cupcakes?”
It took me a while to track down some Tupperware. I still have no idea where things are stored.
“I didn’t know you liked to bake.”
You’ve never taken the time to get to know me.
“Do you want one?” I ask.
He’s already turned, walking through the kitchen. He’ll shower and either study some more or fuck me. “I don’t like sweets.”
I’m glad he’s not looking at me, otherwise he’ll see me wilt.
