Chapter 32 #2
“Mr. Volkov,” he said, shaking Sergei’s hand. “Good to see you again. Everything is ready for the consultation.”
Again? What the hell was going on?
The man turned to me next. “You must be Dr. Cavanagh. I’m Pierre, your private consultant for the day. We’re very pleased to have you with us.”
“Umm, thank you.” My gaze snapped to Sergei. “He was expecting me?”
“Yup. You still haven’t replaced your car. It’s time, Leo.”
Pierre gestured toward the showroom. “I have the models ready for viewing just as Mr. Volkov requested. From there, we can move into the customization suite and build exactly what you want.”
“Sergei—”
“Humor me,” he said, taking my arm and pulling me along with him. “It can’t hurt to look. If you don’t find anything to your taste, we can always leave.”
My eyes drifted to the showroom, and every argument I had lined up in my head weakened.
The room was immaculate. Glossy floors reflected the vehicles displayed beneath soft white lights.
The cars were spaced far enough apart to give each one room to breathe.
Leather seating areas and glass offices took up the rest of the space.
The walls were lined with wheel samples and paint finishes and a customization wall that displayed interior leathers.
I appreciated cars; I always had. I cared about the way they came to life: the sound of an engine, the curve of a body line, the difference between a car built merely to move and one built to be experienced.
Sergei knew that. He studied me like I was an interesting specimen under a microscope.
The thought should have been scary, especially when it had to do with him, but I felt reassured.
He took notice because he was interested, and he wanted me to know how serious he was about me.
How could I be anything but flattered at that?
Pierre guided us first to a deep-blue BMW sedan with elegant lines and introduced it to us, making note of the performance, comfort, and usability. I was certain I couldn’t afford the car, but I couldn’t help walking around it.
The car was gorgeous. I ran my gaze over the front grille, the wheels, the subtle carbon fiber details, already imagining what I would change if I were foolish enough to indulge this fantasy.
“This is beautiful,” I said.
Sergei stood a few feet away from me. I could feel him watching me rather than the car. “You like it?”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Why?”
“Because liking things around you tends to become dangerous for my sense of restraint.”
Pierre smiled faintly and gestured toward the customization room. “If you’d like, we can build one to your specifications. Nothing has to be decided today beyond the model, though most clients find the process easier once they see the combinations in person.”
That sounded reasonable. Safe, even. We were just discussing, but that didn’t mean I had to commit to buying it.
Except that the customization suite was where restraint went to die. Pierre seated us at a long table in front of a massive digital screen that displayed the car in three-dimensional detail. Along one wall sat physical samples of paint, leather, stitching, trim, wheels, and finishes.
At first, I tried to behave like a reasonable man.
“I don’t need anything too excessive,” I said as Pierre pulled up exterior colors. “Something understated.”
Sergei leaned back in his chair beside me. “Pick what you want.”
“I am.”
“You’re picking what you think is safe.”
“Why don’t we customize the way you would envision your dream car?” Pierre suggested. “We can always use that as a start, then scale back.”
That sounded reasonable. “Okay.”
I should have chosen standard black and ended it there. Instead, my attention snagged on a dark metallic blue sample that shifted almost black depending on the light.
Pierre noticed immediately. “Tanzanite Blue.”
I picked up the sample before I could stop myself. “That’s…nice.”
“Add it,” Sergei said.
I glared at him. “I didn’t say I wanted it.”
“You looked at it like you wanted it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything.”
Pierre added it to the build.
That was how the rest of the consultation went.
I tried to be modest. Sergei ruined it. I chose black leather because it was practical, and Pierre showed me a richer merino leather in a deep cognac that made the interior feel warmer without being too flashy.
I hesitated for all of three seconds before Sergei told him to add it.
I said the standard wheels were fine. Sergei asked which wheels I actually preferred.
I said the upgraded sound system wasn’t necessary.
Sergei told Pierre to include it because I spent too much time in the car after long shifts to listen to mediocre audio.
By the time we got to the driver assistance package, ventilated seats, massage function, custom stitching, and carbon fiber trim, I had stopped pretending I wasn’t having fun.
“I’m enjoying this way too much,” I said to him while Pierre adjusted the digital rendering on the screen.
Sergei smirked. “I noticed. You’ve already added half the catalog.”
“Because you keep telling him to add it.”
“Because you keep wanting it. If you want something, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t get it for you?”
He’d tricked me. And Pierre was in on it too. I wasn’t merely playing around with customization ideas. He meant to buy me this car. I could see the determination in his eyes.
I shook my head and chuckled. “That’s why you didn’t argue more about the couch. You had this planned all along. You let me buy the couch because you knew you were bringing me here to foist an expensive car on me.”
“So that’s settled then. You bought me a sex couch, and I’ll buy you a car.”
“It’s not a sex couch!”
Pierre’s shoulders were shaking from holding in his laughter.
“Glad we’re on the same page about the car,” Sergei said. “You’ve got everything noted, Pierre?”
“Certainly, Mr. Volkov. I just need Dr. Cavanagh to take another look through the customization and sign off on it.”
Sergei nodded at the screen in front of me. “You know you want to, so why pretend?” Then he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “If you allow me to buy you this car, I’ll show you what makes it a sex couch when it’s delivered.”