7. Evgeny
Evgeny
NIKI:
What the fuck are you doing?
Ishut my bedroom door and walk to my closet, ignoring Niki’s text for a few minutes.
Dropping my suit jacket onto a chair, I start to unbutton the white dress shirt I’m wearing as I kick off my leather shoes.
Throwing on a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt isn’t an option, so instead I switch my suit pants for jeans and grab a black, long-sleeved henley instead.
When I’m dressed, I grab my phone and write a reply.
ME:
Keeping the enemy close, just like you suggested.
NIKI:
You sure about this, Ev?
ME:
It’s just a meal. I know Pavel told you she was following me. I’m killing her curiosity. There’s nothing for her to find here.
NIKI:
All right, just be careful.
I give him a thumbs-up and then slip my family phone back into the inside pocket of my suit jacket.
Keeping my other cell phone with me, I walk back downstairs to find Harper perusing my shelves.
There’s nothing for her to find aside from an array of law books, a nice collection of history books, and a few shelves dedicated to true crime and horror.
Leaning against the counter, I watch her run her fingers over the titles, making no attempt to hide her curiosity about me.
Aside from Sasha sneaking in here that one night to scare the hell out of me, she’s the only other person who’s ever been inside my home.
Watson walks back in from outside, taking a direct path to my couch. He jumps up on it like he owns the place and lies down, sprawling his long body along the cushions.
Harper stops her snooping long enough to ask, “I’m sorry. Do you mind? Greyhounds need cushion. It hurts them to lie on the ground.”
“I don’t mind,” I tell her, surprised to find that I really don’t. I’ve always loved dogs, and I’d get one in a second if my work schedule would allow it.
“Thanks,” she says, before turning back to look at my shelves. After several minutes, she looks over her shoulder at me. “Your house isn’t at all what I thought it’d be.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I tell her. I walk to the fridge and grab a bottle of the lemonade I like. I hold it up and when she nods her head, I grab two glasses and fill them.
“You didn’t disappoint,” she says, walking over to me and taking the glass I offer.
I watch while she takes a drink, trying really hard to not notice the delicate lines of her neck and the way her hair brushes her chin.
I fail miserably because I notice every detail of this woman, no matter how hard I try not to.
“Glad to hear it,” I say. “It feels good to poke holes in your theory that I’m a complete and utter jackass.”
The corner of her mouth lifts when she says, “Well, I didn’t say I’d changed my opinion about that.
I just said your house doesn’t disappoint.
” Her blue eyes dance around the room again.
“It’s a nice home, Ev. I find it odd that it’s completely devoid of anything personal, but there’s no denying it’s beautiful.
I can see why you go to such lengths to protect it. It feels like your own private haven.”
“My books are personal,” I say, hiding my surprise at how quickly she’s managed to see right through me.
She huffs out a laugh. “I never would’ve pegged you as a horror reader.”
I shrug and grab my phone when I feel it buzz, reading the text that lets me know our food is here.
“Food’s here. I’ll be back in a second.” I’m already to the stairs before I say, “Clive Barker’s a phenomenal writer, by the way.
If you play your cards right, I might let you borrow one of his books. ”
Her smiling face is the last thing I see before I turn my back on her and go down to the garage.
The house is built on a slope, so the garage opens out onto the street and the second floor opens to the backyard.
The basement is off the garage, but even though it’s fully renovated, I rarely spend time down there.
It feels more cave-like than I care for.
I mainly had it finished so I could build the safe room that Niki insisted on.
He worries, and it seemed like such a small thing to do for his and my family’s peace of mind.
If I’m ever in danger, all I have to do is lock myself in there and press a button that will immediately alert my entire family to come and save my ass.
They live close to one another for a reason.
There really is safety in numbers, and I’ve had to set myself apart.
The safe room felt like a good compromise.
One I hope I never need to actually use.
After grabbing the bags of food, I walk back upstairs, surprised to find that Harper’s already laid out plates and silverware for us. For one brief second, I allow myself to enjoy the moment, to know what it would feel like to have a normal life and a girlfriend for the first time.
“I hope I didn’t overstep,” she says when I stay quiet and set the bags on the counter. When I still don’t say anything, she starts to fidget, notices it, and quickly hides her hands behind her back so I won’t see them.
“Bet that’s the first time you’ve ever uttered those words,” I tease while I start taking out the cartons of food.
“I’m not that bad,” she protests, reaching out so she can help. “Wow, this smells good.”
“It’s the best Greek food in the city. I get supper from them a few times a week.”
“Do you ever cook?” she asks and then laughs. “I’m not judging. Trust me. I’m the queen of microwave dinners. I’m just curious.”
“Are you always this curious?”
“Yeah,” she says, and I ignore the small irritation I feel at the confirmation that there’s nothing unique about her interest in me.
“Well, I’ve always been curious ever since I was little, but I have to admit this is the first time I’ve ever broken into someone’s work or done a stakeout with my dog. ”
The irritation quickly turns into something else as a grin slips through before I can stop it. “I do tend to have that effect on people.”
“Oh yeah? This is a regular thing for you?”
I put a gyro on her plate and dish out extra tzatziki before pushing the Greek salad towards her. I grab some napkins while I say, “Believe it or not, most people leave me alone. They hound me where I expect it, like outside the courthouse, not hiding behind my car or tailing me at night.”
“I guess I’m just a little more creative than them,” she says, stabbing her fork into the salad and taking a big bite.
I fight a grin and walk over so I can pull one of the barstools out for her. “You don’t have to stand up to eat. You’re allowed to sit down.”
“Such a gentleman,” she says, giving me her sweet voice.
I watch her as she eats. I’d tested her outside her car, curious to see how far she’d let me take it, if she’d try to kiss me or use her body to get me to talk.
I’d been thrilled when she shoved me away, because the truth is I think Harper could get me close to cracking.
I would never betray my family, but she gets under my skin in a way that I’m not used to.
I need to be careful around her, and instead I invited her into my home and fed her.
“Tell me about yourself,” I say after I’ve sat down next to her and reached for my own fork. “It’s only fair with all the snooping you’ve done about me.”
She finishes chewing and says, “Not much to tell. I’m from upstate, grew up in foster care, never really felt like I belonged so I just kind of lived in my head.
I started making up stories about the people around me, just to kind of entertain myself, but then it led to real curiosity.
” She gives a small smile. “Then I started asking questions, and I guess I never stopped. My high school English teacher told me to put it to good use. He’s the first person to suggest journalism as a career.
I was pretty much hooked from the beginning. It’s taken me a long time, though.”
Her smile lights up her whole face when she says, “I did get promoted today. Arthur, my boss, said I’ll get the next big story. I’m sorry to tell you this, but you might be seeing a lot more of me.”
I raise my glass of lemonade in a toast. “Congratulations on the promotion, Harper. Here’s to what will no doubt be an amazing career filled with stories that will keep you way too busy to be my own personal stalker.”
She grins and clinks her glass to mine. “I’m sure I could occasionally spare an hour to stalk you.”
Despite the knowledge weighing heavy on me that we’re on opposite sides of the line and it needs to stay that way, I can’t resist returning her smile and taking a drink.
I swear the tattoos burn my skin beneath the shirt I’m wearing, sending a warning to me that I need to send her on her way and put her far from my mind.
She has no idea who I am, and it needs to stay that way.
She’s completely oblivious to the fact that the story of a lifetime is sitting inches away from her.
I can’t kid myself into thinking I can trust her.
No matter how beautiful I might think she is or brilliant or funny, Harper and I can never be anything more than this.
I’ve already pushed things farther than I should have.
Instead of telling Pavel to leave when I noticed her following me, I should’ve had him run interference so I could slip away and go home.
I’m making mistakes with her, and I’m not someone who ever makes mistakes. It’s an unsettling realization, and instead of pushing her out the door, I reach forward and put more stuffed grape leaves on her plate because she’s just eaten her last bite and I don’t want her to be hungry.
“Are you trying to bribe me with Greek food?” she asks before grabbing one and taking a bite.
“Why, is it working?”
Her laugh is muffled because she’s still chewing, but when she’s done, she says, “Maybe a little bit.”