Page 33
Story: His to Ruin
“You liked that, huh?”
“It was perfect.” She wriggles to be let down and I carefully lower her to the floor. Her nose scrunches up. “Why am I Rezanova?”
“It’s the feminine form of my name.”
“Not Reznova?”
“No.” I purse my lips. “Don’t you like it?”
She shrugs. “It’s just odd that the names are different.”
“Well, you’re American, not Russian, so I guess if you prefer to be Mrs. Reznov, nobody will jail you for it.”
“No, I like Rezanova. I just didn’t get why that was the form my name would take.”
“It’s a different naming convention, I guess.”
Olivia giggles. “This is a banal conversation for a pair of newlyweds.”
I couldn’t agree more. “Yes, it is.”
Olivia looks around the hallway. It’s compact, with corridors leading off to the left and the right. There’s a mirror on one wall with a half-moon table beneath it. An arrangement of fresh roses has been placed on it, Sev’s idea, surely because it wasn’t mine.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
“Along there.” I motion toward the left. “But we can’t go there yet. I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”
I usher her along the corridor to our right.
“I’m intrigued,” Olivia says, “but I should warn you now, I’m not really into diamonds. If you want to win my heart, it will take a country house and a dozen puppies.”
That’s not what I expected to appeal to her. Everything I’ve seen suggests Olivia is all about fashion. I already discerned she craves romance. Perhaps she also dreams of a life away from the spotlight. It will be hard for her to achieve as my bride. Perhaps that’s why she was resistant to the idea of marrying me. She wanted something simpler than the world she grew up in.
“A dozen puppies?”
“Well, we can start with one. I like West Highland Terriers.”
I shake my head. Dogs are not my favorite animals. “Aren’t they yappy little brutes?”
“Only if you don’t train them right.”
“And you know how to train a dog?”
“I could learn.”
Realizing my wife could easily persuade me to buy her a puppy if this conversation continues, I decide to reveal her surprise. I open the door to the living room.
“Go on in,” I tell her.
She walks ahead of me into the living room and lets out a massive squeal that tells me I did the right thing. She runs across the room and launches herself into the arms of Jimmy Marrone, her bodyguard.
“What are you doing here?” she asks. “What’s going on?”
Jimmy gently sets her down on the floor and takes a respectful step back.
“It was perfect.” She wriggles to be let down and I carefully lower her to the floor. Her nose scrunches up. “Why am I Rezanova?”
“It’s the feminine form of my name.”
“Not Reznova?”
“No.” I purse my lips. “Don’t you like it?”
She shrugs. “It’s just odd that the names are different.”
“Well, you’re American, not Russian, so I guess if you prefer to be Mrs. Reznov, nobody will jail you for it.”
“No, I like Rezanova. I just didn’t get why that was the form my name would take.”
“It’s a different naming convention, I guess.”
Olivia giggles. “This is a banal conversation for a pair of newlyweds.”
I couldn’t agree more. “Yes, it is.”
Olivia looks around the hallway. It’s compact, with corridors leading off to the left and the right. There’s a mirror on one wall with a half-moon table beneath it. An arrangement of fresh roses has been placed on it, Sev’s idea, surely because it wasn’t mine.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
“Along there.” I motion toward the left. “But we can’t go there yet. I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”
I usher her along the corridor to our right.
“I’m intrigued,” Olivia says, “but I should warn you now, I’m not really into diamonds. If you want to win my heart, it will take a country house and a dozen puppies.”
That’s not what I expected to appeal to her. Everything I’ve seen suggests Olivia is all about fashion. I already discerned she craves romance. Perhaps she also dreams of a life away from the spotlight. It will be hard for her to achieve as my bride. Perhaps that’s why she was resistant to the idea of marrying me. She wanted something simpler than the world she grew up in.
“A dozen puppies?”
“Well, we can start with one. I like West Highland Terriers.”
I shake my head. Dogs are not my favorite animals. “Aren’t they yappy little brutes?”
“Only if you don’t train them right.”
“And you know how to train a dog?”
“I could learn.”
Realizing my wife could easily persuade me to buy her a puppy if this conversation continues, I decide to reveal her surprise. I open the door to the living room.
“Go on in,” I tell her.
She walks ahead of me into the living room and lets out a massive squeal that tells me I did the right thing. She runs across the room and launches herself into the arms of Jimmy Marrone, her bodyguard.
“What are you doing here?” she asks. “What’s going on?”
Jimmy gently sets her down on the floor and takes a respectful step back.
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