Chapter 2
ZOE
“Hi, Mum.” I wave at the computer screen.
“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?” Mum crackles through the bad internet connection.
I’m shocked that she even has an internet connection, seeing as she is currently living in the middle of nowhere.
And when I say in the middle of nowhere, I mean she’s living on the tiniest speck of sand halfway between Australia and the United States.
Right on the equator, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on an island called Kiribati.
My dad is the Australian Ambassador there, one of the many overseas stations he has had during my lifetime.
Growing up, we were always shuffling from one location to the next.
My sisters and I have lived in many places over the years: Kenya, Samoa, the United States, Saudi Arabia, and Japan, just to name a few.
That’s why I’m currently studying for my Masters in languages at Universitat Autonoma de Barcelona.
One day I want to work for the United Nations as an interpreter .
I still remember the day when I was ten and Dad took us to visit the United Nations in New York.
I got to sit in the linguistics department and listen to the interpreters help the delegates understand what was going on.
Best. Day. Ever. I knew then what I wanted to do.
I’m lucky, languages come easily to me, and I could pick up the local language everywhere we went.
“Things are going great, Mum. I love it here. Gracie is visiting this weekend from The Hague. It’s been too long.”
My younger sister, Grace, wants to be the next Amal Clooney.
She is currently interning for the International Court of Justice in The Hague, the Netherlands, in their legal matters department, fighting global dictators and trying them for crimes against humanity.
Well, she isn’t. Grace is one of the low-paid people trying to work their way up to fight crime, but she loves it anyway.
I haven’t seen her in about a year and miss her so much; she is my partner in crime when we get together.
“You give her a big hug for me and tell her she needs to call more often,” Mum suggests.
“So, have you met any eligible bachelors yet?” she asks while wiggling her eyebrows at me.
The computer freezes at the wrong moment and Mum looks crazy.
I quickly take a screenshot of it and send it to her.
A couple of moments later, the image unfreezes, and I can hear her screeching as she gets my text.
“Oh, my god, that’s hideous,” she says, laughing at her image.
“You always told us not to make faces because if the wind changes, we would look like that.” I laugh with her.
Mum rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t think I forgot you didn’t answer my question, young lady.” She wags her finger at me.
“Mum, I’m so busy with school, I don’t have time to date.” It’s the truth, plus my luck with men has been bad.
“Sweetie, you are in the prime of your life. I know school is a big portion of your life but … you need to have fun. All of you girls work too damn hard, and I worry.”
Mum and Dad sure created overachieving girls.
My oldest sister, Mackenzie, is currently working with Doctors Without Borders in Haiti.
Sophie, the second eldest, works in the Middle East as a correspondent for CNN.
We are most definitely career-driven women who don’t have time for men, judging by all my sisters’ single statuses.
“What happened to that boy, Gerard?”
Dropping my head, I answer her, “I found him kissing someone else.” That was humiliating.
The boy you are kind of dating invites you to his house party, and you decline because of an assignment, finish said assignment early, walk into the party, and see him sucking face with some random girl.
I might have accidentally hit him in the face when he grabbed me as I left the party.
It was automatic self-defense, I didn’t think.
When we were living in Africa, my father insisted we learn, and there were some Israeli soldiers who were staying on our property, who were part of the security team.
They taught my sisters and me Krav Maga, which is a particular type of self-defense taught to the Israeli Defense Forces.
I loved it so much that I continued learning it.
I sometimes forget how strong I can be. Unfortunately, when he grabbed me, I reacted and hit his nose, which instantly began pouring with blood.
I felt horrible, but not enough to forgive him.
It was not my finest moment, but at least it showed the men on campus that I shouldn’t be messed around on, which probably explains my single status.
“Oh, well … maybe this weekend you and Gracie can let your hair down and have some fun for me. I live vicariously through you all.”
From the stories of our mother’s youth, she was wild herself until she met our father, but that didn’t stop them. They traveled the world and had the best adventures together. One day I’ll be lucky enough to meet a man that can give me what they have. It’s a hard act to follow.
“Fine, I promise Gracie and I will go wild this weekend and meet loads of hot men.”
“That’s my girl, make Mama proud. Stay safe. Use protection,” she says with a chuckle.
“I promise.”
“Good. I better go, sweetie; I have a class to teach. Love you, have fun. Stay in touch and tell Gracie to call her mother.”
“Will do. Love you too, Mum.”
Then she’s gone.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I scream at my sister, hugging her at the airport terminal.
“I know, I know. It’s been too long. I’ve missed you so much.” She hugs me back. You’d think four sisters wouldn’t get along, but we do. There were times when my parents thought World War III was happening under their roof, but now that we are older and wiser, we cherish our sisterly bonds.
“I can’t wait to show you Barcelona, we are going to have so much fun, plus Mum has decreed that we go wild and meet hot men.”
Gracie bursts out laughing.
“Oh, and she said you’ve been slack.”
She groans. “I hear the guilt trip loud and clear, Mum. I’ll call her when I get back home. This weekend it’s you and me getting crazy and hitting on hot Spanish men.”
I like her plan.
“This is cute,” Grace says as we walk into the packed speakeasy-style bar.
“They have the best cocktails in Barcelona.”
I grab her hand and push my way through the Friday night crowd. We make it to the bar where we order a round of dirty martinis and a couple of tapas plates.
“How’s work?” I ask, sipping my drink.
“You know, ridding the world of one dictator at a time.”
“Excuse me, ladies, may we buy you a drink?” a sexy male voice asks us in Spanish. There’s a slight accent to his words—is it Russian?
Turning, I investigate the person who belongs to the deep voice.
Holy hotness, the man is stunning. Beautiful green eyes sparkle at us.
His brown hair is slicked back in a fifties style.
He’s wearing a black T-shirt, and jeans, effortlessly casual, and—yes—he’s covered in tattoos, every inch of his skin decorated in intricate art.
Gracie kicks me under the table.
I hadn’t realized I was staring at him and hadn’t answered his question. My eyes glance at the equally gorgeous man beside him, who seems to be eye fucking my sister.
“Yes, of course,” I reply in Spanish.
The gorgeous man gives me an appreciative smile as I answer him and then takes a seat beside me. “You’re not Spanish?” he asks in English.
“Neither are you.”
He chuckles, dimples appearing in his skin.
Could he get any hotter?
“I’m Nikolai.” He holds his hand out, and my eyes drop to the tattoos covering his knuckles.
“Zoe.”
I take his hand and give it a shake. Sparks shoot up my arm at our connection. He notices it, too, as he stares at his hand wondering what happened.
“Nice to meet you, Zoe.”
Nikolai orders us drinks, and it’s not long till the bartender hands them over to us.
“To getting to know you better,” he states, holding up his glass of beer.
I clink my martini glass against his in agreement before taking a sip.
When I look up again at Nikolai, he gives me a blinding smile before moving closer to me.
His tattooed hand rests on the top of my exposed thigh under the table and begins rubbing circles against my bare skin, which instantly pebbles it.
I most definitely am looking forward to getting to know him better. Just this once, a one-night stand can’t hurt, can it?