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“Why not? You know me, always looking for the quick, easy fix to my problems, but you’re not like me. You're always wary about the easy way out. That's probably why you feel so unsettled about this."
"Yeah," I reply. "Maybe."
She pours us both another glass, then she clinks hers against mine. "Let's just chalk this up to some cool story we'll talk about in the future when he dies of an incurable STD and ends up in the news."
At her words, something twists inside of me. I stand and walk to the oven. Opening it I take the scones out. "I don't want him to die. He was—he wasn't rude or horrible."
“I’m hungry.” She gets up and heads over to the stove. "Mmmm, beef stew. You make the best stews."
I finally make my decision. I put the tray of scones down. "I won't do it,” I blurt out.
At my bold announcement, she turns around a piece of beef in her fingers and nods her approval. "Good. That's awesome. You stuck to your principles. Now let’s eat Irish stew and be poor together."
Laughing, I join her by the stove, but halfway around the counter, my phone starts ringing and I freeze. My heart starts pounding. I meet Leila’s gaze. She too is frozen in the act of taking cutlery out of the drawer.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” she whispers, her eyes wide with intrigue.
“He doesn’t have my number,” I whisper back.
“Well, answer it then,” she orders.
I feel incredibly stupid as I scramble around frantically looking for my ringing phone in amongst all the food, but as soon as I note that the caller is not one of my contacts, my heart is in my mouth.
“Hello.”
“Lara.” The way he calls my name… smooth, commanding, unmistakable. And my mind goes blank. I cannot believe he is actually calling me. I thought, no, scratch that, I almost believed it was all an improbable dream. That I would never see him again or even hear from him for that matter.
Leila is making faces so I turn away from her and try to put myself in order. My skin is already prickling with anticipation and excitement, which is mad because I’ve already decided I want absolutely nothing to do with him.
"I'm in an illegal gambling club in Brooklyn," he says.
I wonder why he is telling me this, but I am glad he is, because I can add it to the things I find unattractive about him. I want nothing to do with anything illegal. "Well, uh, good for you. Enjoy yourself. Good night, Mr. Ivanovich," I say, prepared to hang up, but his next words shock me into fearful stillness.
"And I’ve got your father with me."
"What?"
"I'll send you the address. I believe you’re not far away. This is not my kind of place so don’t be long."
The call gets disconnected abruptly and seconds later my phone pings with an address in Brooklyn. I look up at Leila and I feel my world is spinning out of control.
“You’ll have to eat by yourself, Leila.”
Chapter Fifteen
IVAN
“Was that my daughter on the phone?” Lara’s father asks incredulously.
“Yes,” I agree calmly.
“How do you know her number? I do know you, don’t I?” he asks, his voice sharp with accusation and new fear.
I look at the man before me, and can’t help but feel a twinge of pity for his sorry ass. At how low he has come. He would never believe it now, but my unwelcome intervention in his affairs may be a blessing in disguise.
“Who are you? You didn’t randomly pick me, did you? You know who I am and you did this on purpose,” he shouts furiously, his voice rising higher with every new allegation.
“I didn’t make you lose it all away. You did that all on your own,” I tell him, keeping my tone flat and emotionless. The point is to make him believe there is no point in attempting to appeal to my better nature because I have none. What I want from them, they will never willingly give, even if I pretend to be the nicest person in the world. So there is no point in being cordial.It will only make them think they can defy me, that perhaps it’s a good idea to try and test their luck.