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“In case you’re worried, I won’t actually make poisons, but please don’t order for me again.”
He takes a sip of his wine. “I never order my date, but something about you brings out the worst in me.”
“Is that you saying sorry?”
“Yeah, that’s me saying sorry.”
“Okay. I’m sorry too that I pressed all your buttons and made you go haywire.”
He smiles.
“By the way, I spent some time with Muriel in the conservatory today. She agreed to teach me to garden. Maybe gardening will keep me busy.”
He stares at me curiously. “You liked her.”
“Yes, very much.”
He nods and smiles. “I hope you’re not planning to steal her away from me.”
“I got the impression I couldn’t even if I wanted to. She’s totally devoted to you.”
He looks surprised. “Good. I hope she never leaves me. I’ve had her as my housekeeper ever since I left Russia.”
I want to ask more about his life in Russia, about his family, but I hesitate. I shouldn’t want to know more about him. It’s not part of the deal. Instead, I let my eyes drift over him. He is wearing a brilliantly white shirt, a blue tie and a navy suit jacket. In this light, he looks good enough to eat. God, I hate how sexy he looks. I hate how, once again, I’m feeling the magnetic pull of him.
Black label steak arrives. It is the best steak I’ve ever eaten.
“Good choice,” I say.
We lapse into silence and I wonder what he’s thinking, but again, I resist the urge to ask personal questions. It’s safer to stick to neutral topics.
“So, what’s the gala about tomorrow?” I ask instead.
He wipes the corner of his mouth and sets down his fork. “It’s for my mother’s charity event—it’s an annual gala that brings together some of the most influential figures in the community. They focus on supporting cultural preservation and women’s initiatives. It helps build connections and raises significant funds for various charity organizations back in Russia.”
I nod. “I take it you’re not one for parties?”
He leans back in his chair, tilting his head as if considering my question. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a feeling. You seem like the type who’d rather be behind the scenes, pulling the strings and letting the puppets take all the glory.”
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “You think you’ve got me figured out, huh?”
I shrug, leaning forward slightly. “I don’t know… do I?”
He leans in, his expression softening. “Sometimes, you have to show up. Not because you want to. You go because your mother expects it.”
I laugh. A bit of skepticism creeps into my voice. “And maybe it’s just a game, showing off to people who know how powerful you are.”
His eyes flicker and I get the feeling he is disappointed in me. “Sometimes, playing the game is the only way to win.”
I sense that I have lost him. I had him and I lost him. Maybe he really is going just because his mother expects his presence, but I can’t stop myself from poking the bear. “Winning is everything to you, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t it for everyone?” he counters. “We all want to feel like we’ve accomplished something, that we’re moving forward. What about you? Why do you make your videos? You want to accomplish something with them, don’t you?”
I feel a slight prick of annoyance, but I meet his gaze. “Well, one of them got you to notice me, didn’t it?”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You certainly accomplished that.”