Page 22 of Trust

I probably would, but if he thinks cheesecake is too sweet, he’s in good company with Adam.

Besides, it’s not on the list.

“Thank you. Maybe I’ll try it next time.” I try to think of something to say to get out of buying it, but I don’t think ‘I’m on a budget’would go over well. Adam would be furious if I said something like that and made people think we don’t have much money.

Although, wasn’t that supposed to be my cover story? That I was poor and homeless and desperately needed a job?

Ilya gives me a glance. “Are you almost done with your groceries? I’ll buy us the yogurts. We can eat them outside in the little park.” He reaches for the cheesecake flavor as well as the coconut one, in addition to the plain vanilla he’d already picked out for himself. “Do you like the crunchy toppings? Like in a parfait.”

“I…” My mouth is parched. I want it. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten one for myself, but Adam looks at the receipts and the bank statements, and I don’t have my own account. I’d just told Ilya I liked the ones with the crumbles, though, so I can’t lie. “Yes,” I say, licking my lips.

They still feel so dry.

Ilya puts more into his grocery basket, then goes for the extra toppings that are in a display case off to the side of the yogurt.

Why am I following him like a lost puppy?

Why am I doing this at all?

My heart is racing, pounding against my ribs, and I wonder if this is what having a heart attack feels like.

But Adam had made it clear that my fuck-up had potentially cost him his promotion. I have the opportunity to help, to fix all of that. If I can get Ilya to talk about anything important, anything at all, and get information…

Adam might be pissed that I did this anyway.

Or he might be happy with me if I succeed.

I wish I knew which was actually going to happen.

“We will need spoons too,” Ilya says. “Maybe there are a few by the deli counter. But cups would be good too, if we want to make parfaits. I have fruit we can add too.” He smiles at me. “Fruit in yogurt is good when it isn’t soggy.”

I return his smile, albeit tentatively, and I can’t hold it for long. “I don’t know,” I say. “My groceries… I have frozen things. They’ll melt if I sit outside.”

Ilya peers at my grocery cart. There are no frozen items in it yet. “We can eat yogurt first, and buy your frozen items later,” he suggests.

“I can’t do two transactions,” I say, my voice going high with anxiety. If Adam sees that, he’ll want to know why I didn’t do it all at once — especially if there are time stamps on the receipts. “And I?—”

I cut myself off.

This is an opportunity I can’t pass up.

I’ll prove to Adam that Iamcapable, that I can handle things and be his partner. I’ll show him he doesn’t need to baby me.

It has nothing to do with how kindly Ilya kissed me, or how much I want to share a parfait with him.

I wonder what it would feel like to have Ilya’s arm around me again.

I’m not going to kiss him this time, no matter how good it had felt. I’m going to focus on getting close enough that he’ll tell me the kinds of secrets that will get Adam that promotion, so he won’t need to stress anymore. Then we can go back to how things were at the start when Adam had been sweet and loving and kissed me as gently as Ilya had.

“Maybe they can hold my cart for me,” I say, pretending to still be on the fence.

“If they don’t, we simply pick everything up again,” Ilya says gently. “I’ll help you carry things.”

I take a shaky breath. “But I can’t take too long,” I say. “And I might have to answer texts or even phone calls. Okay?”

That much is non-negotiable.

I might be doing this for Adam, but I can’t ignore him if he tries to contact me.