Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“Ilook like I’m going on a TV date.”
“You are.” Nyx made a minute adjustment to Nikolett’s hair, which was loose around her shoulders and lightly curled. One side of it swooped in a soft curve against her forehead in a way that made her feel like an old Hollywood movie star. “Going on a date, I mean. Not on TV.”
The idea of dating rather than marrying a family friend or coworker was still fairly foreign in Hungary, but shows like A Nagy ? had popularized the idea.
“Yes, but Laszlo thinks he’s coming for a meeting.” Nikolett eyed Nyx as she said it.
While Nikolett had originally wanted to be straightforward and say that the meeting was to discuss marriage prospects, Oksana had pointed out that if Nikolett had these meetings and then didn’t place the individuals into a trinity within several months, they would either be offended, worried, or both.
Instead, the suggestion had been to have a casual dinner meeting, no reason given, but Nyx hadn’t been thrilled with that idea.
And Nyx had been the one to issue the invitation to Laszlo Petrescu.
Nikolett was fairly sure this hadn’t been framed as a purely business meeting the way Oksana suggested, but the invitation also wouldn’t be a straightforward “let’s discuss your marriage options” the way Nikolett had originally suggested.
Nyx was deceptively good at subtlety when she wanted to be, and Nikolett had simply run out of time to check exactly what the invitation said. And at this point, she’d rather not know, since there was nothing she could do to change it.
“A dinner meeting,” Elena added from where she knelt on the floor. “With a man you might marry.”
“He doesn’t know that,” Nikolett pointed out, but it was half question as she watched Nyx in the mirror.
Elena was no longer paying attention to the conversation, now fully in doctor mode examining Nikolett’s cast-less leg.
It was one thing for strangers in a coffee shop to see her disabled, or even Eric and the Spartan Guard. It was another thing for members of her territory to see her hobbling around in a cast. No reason to broadcast that she was injured.
Even if word had gotten around to the general membership about her broken leg, tonight, she could pretend it had been a minor inconvenience and was already fully healed.
Elena had reluctantly agreed that not wearing the 3D-printed cast for one night probably wasn’t a huge risk, given how her bone had looked at the last X-ray. Elena had removed Nikolett’s cast and was now replacing the regular dressing on the mostly healed wounds with thin, clear adhesive bandages.
Nikolett looked in the mirror, loving what Nyx had managed to do with her hair. It was enough to make her wish this meeting-date was happening at a restaurant.
Grigoris steadfastly refused to allow an outside venue, citing security concerns. They’d run security scenarios on various restaurants, small private venues, and hotels. Even with renting out the entire space, there were always too many variables Grigoris couldn’t control.
Nyx had quietly told Nikolett that Grigoris wasn’t particularly happy about bringing people into her home either, because Grigoris privately believed the Spaniard was a member of their territory. Given that the Spaniard clearly knew more than was comfortable about them, it wasn’t an absurd theory.
And despite all their checks, and given how little they knew about the Spaniard, it was possible their enemy was one of Nikolett’s potential spouses, and about to walk through the door at their invitation.
The risk between Nikolett leaving the house versus possibly inviting their enemy in had been weighed, and apparently dinner at home was less risky but certainly not risk free.
Maxim was preparing the dinner—he’d worked in a hotel kitchen for several years and was an excellent cook.
It would be nice to have a meal that wasn’t packaged food shipped directly from the vendor to minimize risk of tampering, or an odd assortment of fruits and vegetables picked up directly from local growers by one of her harcos or security officers.
While she appreciated the locally sourced, seasonal produce, the options often left her with odd disjointed meals such as last night’s dinner of half a steamed squash, unknown leafy greens she’d tried to have as a salad but ended up cooking because they were too tough, and a serving of frozen bulgogi beef.
Elena smoothed down the bandages, then grabbed the thigh-high taupe stocking, easing it over Nikolett’s foot, then over the clear bandages. When Elena got it to her knee, Nikolett took over, scooting forward to pull the stocking up, adjusting the lacy band to lay flat on her thigh.
All three women paused to look at Nikolett’s leg. The thin bandages left no tell-tale lumps, and given they were clear, there were no odd white squares on her leg.
“Looks like a normal leg.” Nyx made one more adjustment to Nikolett’s hair before Nikolett batted her away.
“I would have made a good lady’s maid,” Elena declared as she rose. “And it’s fun. Like dressing a life-size doll.”
Nyx nodded. “It’s much more fun doing someone else’s hair.”
Nikolett sighed.
Nyx and Elena wandered into her closet and resumed their argument about shoes.
Nyx wanted Nikolett to wear heels, insisting since she’d only be standing for a moment to greet Laszlo, it would be fine.
Elena once more launched into an anatomy lesson on the muscles needed to stand in heels, how many of those same muscles were still healing, and insisted the flats she picked were just as cute.
Nikolett stayed out of it, not ready to spend the mental or emotional energy on this, though privately she agreed with Nyx purely on aesthetics. The flats were cute…with a pair of pants.
Not with the royal-blue tailored dress she wore.
Knee length, with cap sleeves, the thick material and tailoring gave it structure.
It was undeniably business attire, though saved from being boring by both the color and the asymmetrical neckline.
The bodice was pleated in a horizontal fan pattern, the fabric gathered on the right and fanned out across her chest, creating a neckline that was lower on the right than the left, while still being high enough to be modest.
Elena won the argument about shoes and helped Nikolett slip them on.
Nikolett vetoed the offer to have Zoran carry her out of her room so she wouldn’t have to use the crutches or the new knee walker Elena had brought over, possibly rumpling her dress.
She risked rumpling, and used the knee walker to get to, and then into, the small elevator and down to the ground floor.
The reception room at the back of the house had been redecorated into an elegant private dining room.
A romantic private dining room.
“Candles?” Nikolett raised her brow at Nyx, who looked uncharacteristically surprised.
Maxim, wearing a chef coat, finished polishing a table knife before setting it down to the right of one of the gilt-edged plates at the round table positioned near the fireplace. “This meal deserves candles, Admiral.”
Huh. It wasn’t Nyx but Maxim who’d leaned all the way into “date.”
The centerpiece on the white-linen draped table was three white tapers in silver candlesticks and ivory roses in a low silver vase.
A beaten silver boat vase on the mantle was filled with more ivory roses and lacy fern fronds. Fat pillar candles flanked it. With the table position in front of the fireplace, the mantle display helped frame the two-seater table.
On the wall to the right of the door, an antique sideboard had a wide white runner as well as more flowers, candles, a wine bucket, and silver food domes.
Near the window, two armchairs—much more delicate looking than the furniture normally in this room—were angled to look out the window onto the garden.
A coffee cart was positioned in the corner, and a small coffee table sat just under the window, waiting for them to move from the table to the more casual seating after dinner.
It was beautiful, undeniably romantic, and not at all what she’d envisioned.
But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she needed to let the environment say what she wasn’t ready to admit to the potential spouses. Which was that they were her potential spouses.
Rather than asking Maxim to strip out the romantic touches, she thanked him and wheeled over to the table, passing the knee walker to Elena.
Everyone left except Nyx, who studied the room appreciatively as Nikolett checked her phone.
“Nyx, would you bring me my computer, please?” She had twenty minutes and could use that time to get some work done. She hadn’t come close to the end of today’s to-do list before she had to stop and get dressed.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. Take a moment and just relax.”
Nikolett snorted.
“Fine. Play a mindless game on your phone.”
“I’m here early. I could—”
“You’re about to meet the man who might be your husband.
” Nyx’s voice was low as she slid into the seat across from Nikolett.
“I think it would be better if you met him without having half your mind focused on something else. Without you hoping to get the dinner over with so you can get back to whatever you were working on before.”
Nikolett examined the gold-rimmed glass charger under the gilt-edged plate without replying.
“I know you, my friend. You insulate your mind…” Nyx paused, head cocked. “No. You insulate your emotions by being busy. Always having some problem or issue to focus on. There are very few people who can capture and hold your attention.”
At that, she looked up. Nyx just nodded, silently confirming that Eric was one of those “few people.”
Nikolett understood what Nyx was saying—that she should give Laszlo a chance to be the kind of person who held her attention. But she wasn’t sure her heart could take it. Maybe it would be better if her spouses were people with whom she had to make a deliberate effort to actively pay attention.