Page 37 of Secret Husband
He held out both hands, palms up. “Which is it? A miracle or a mess?”
“Both! It can be both. Because it’s all about perspective. You see a miracle—c’est moi—and I see a mess—et tu.”
He smiled. “Yes, I see a miracle. And yes, you are right. I am a mess before you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Alexei
* * *
I had assumed she wouldn’t show.
Did she really think I would tell her boyfriend what had happened? Because that couldn’t possibly be the reason for her strutting in here like an avenging goddess, looking like she had murder on her mind? She could have easily ignored my request, called my bluff, and known that she would be insulated from harm.
I would never hurt her. Again.
Yet here she was, and there could be only two reasons:
One, she thought I would follow through on my empty threat to tell her boyfriend she had married another man and had been married to that man the whole time she was with her new beau.
Or two, she really needed my introduction to Arkady Volkov. Concerning, as it might mean her business was not doing so well.
There was also a third option: she wanted to be here.
After all, we had a good time in Las Vegas, lubricated by alcohol and common interests and a wave of nostalgia over our college experience. But she was mistaken in thinking I was using her as a straight-shot route to a ready-made relationship. Women were easy to come by, and any woman would be happy to be involved with me.
How could I tell her that this marriage was a long time coming, the culmination of many years fighting my way back to her?
She would not believe that, so I would have to play my cards close to my chest. I was used to keeping secrets, and while it might be immediately beneficial to share my respect and admiration for her, she was a skeptic. I needed to chip away at her defenses.
“May I tell you something?”
“If it sheds any light on what’s happening inside that cobweb-ridden brain of yours, by all means.”
“I would never have told your boyfriend about us.”
One eyebrow scooted up to meet her hairline. “Yet this is not what you said to convince me to attend this meeting. Notice I’m not calling it a date. I’m not a cheater.”
Lauren was always straight as an arrow, moral to her core, given her father’s criminal past. It was a point of pride for her to exhibit well-intentioned behavior.
“You are merely meeting an old friend, who can help with your client roster and to whom you happen to be tied in a legal sense.” I lifted my water to my lips. “I hinted that I would tell him because I thought you might need the threat to feel better about meeting me. I think we both knew I would not interfere in your relationship like this. But you let the mere whisper of me snitching to Brad guide you to this table. Because you are … curious.”
A flash of fury crossed her expression before she schooled it to a neutrality worthy of Switzerland.
“So you’re saying that I needed the threat to give myself permission to walk into this restaurant and sit across from you while you act like there’s something between us.”
“There is something between us. There always has been.”
She shook her head. “So you wouldn’t have told him. Let’s pretend I knew that—deep down—but I was willing to lie to myself so I could get a free dinner out of it. You’re paying, by the way.”
“Of course. Does Chad pay for dinner?”
Storm clouds skittered in her silver eyes. I assumed that meant no. She drained her martini and I raised a hand for the server.
Once the order was in, I turned back to her. “How did you meet him?”
She gave me a look of, oh, we’re doing this? I didn’t really want to hear about their origin story, but all data was useful in my mission.
