Chapter 6
* * *
Josephine stood in the middle of her kitchen staring at her phone before setting it face down on the counter. Ten minutes later she picked it up again. The problem wasn’t that Viktor had become part of her routine. The problem was how quickly it had happened.
Over the last several weeks they’d settled into a pattern that felt entirely too natural — one date turning into another, then another after that.
Some evenings meant dinner; others meant long walks through downtown, or Viktor showing up at her studio after class and waiting while she finished paperwork.
More than once, those evenings had ended at his penthouse or hers.
Josephine tried not to think too hard about that part, because it only made everything more complicated.
The physical side of things had only intensified what was already there.
A few days earlier they’d spent an entire Saturday wandering through bookstores. Viktor had claimed he was looking for something specific. Two hours later he left with one business book and six novels Josephine had casually mentioned wanting to read.
“You realize normal people don’t treat shopping like a military operation,” she’d told him in line, reaching for one of the books. He simply shifted them higher in his arms.
“Normal people lose things.” He didn’t look concerned in the slightest. “You wanted these.”
“You remembered six different titles. That’s not normal.”
“You mentioned them.” He shrugged, as if that explained everything. “Why wouldn’t I remember?”
That had been his entire defense.
Another memory followed close behind it — Viktor showing up at her studio with coffee after a long morning of classes. Not flowers, not gifts. Just coffee, made exactly the way she liked it.
“You’re becoming predictable,” she’d accused, accepting the cup.
“You’re disappointed?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The conversation had ended there, because he’d looked entirely too pleased with himself, and Josephine had spent the rest of the afternoon smiling every time she thought of it.
A third memory surfaced before she could stop it.
Avery and Julian had hosted dinner a week earlier, and at some point Josephine had laughed so hard at one of Julian’s stories that she nearly knocked over her drink.
Without interrupting the conversation, Viktor had reached over, steadied the glass, and moved it farther from her hand — completely automatic, done without even looking at her.
Avery had noticed immediately, and the look her sister gave her afterward had been unbearable.
Josephine groaned and dropped her forehead against the kitchen cabinet. She was in trouble. Real trouble. Because somewhere between the farmer’s market, the dinners, the conversations, and the mornings that followed, she’d stopped waiting for Viktor to leave. She’d started expecting him.
That realization followed her into the living room, through folding laundry, through answering emails. By the time Viktor texted asking how her afternoon was going, she stared at the screen for nearly a minute before typing back three words: Busy. Leave me alone.
His reply came almost instantly. No.
She laughed despite herself. Five seconds later: What did you eat?
She rolled her eyes — and answered anyway.
Two hours later she was still thinking about him. That was when she accepted reality: she needed help. More specifically, she needed Avery.
Emergency.
The response came almost instantly. How bad?
Josephine paced across the living room. Very bad.
Are you dying?
No.
Pregnant?
No. She rubbed her forehead. Just come over.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, returned. Oh my God.
What?
You’re in love with him.
Stop being dramatic, Josephine typed back immediately.
Avery’s response came so fast she clearly hadn’t needed time to think. You called an emergency meeting. You haven’t done that since college.
Josephine hated that point. Avery kept going anyway: I’m bringing snacks.
Thirty minutes later, a car pulled into the driveway. Josephine was already at the window when Avery climbed out, an oversized tote bag in one hand and a container of cookies in the other, one palm resting briefly against her growing stomach as she walked up the path.
The second Avery stepped inside, she took one look at Josephine and pointed at the couch.
“There it is.”
“There what is?”
“The face.”
Josephine folded her arms. “I don’t have a face.”
“You absolutely have a face.” Avery dropped the tote onto a chair and sat down, reaching for the cookies. “It’s the same face I had when Julian became a problem.”
“Viktor is not a problem.” The words left Josephine’s mouth too fast.
Avery’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”
“Don’t.”
“Oh, this is much worse than I thought.”
“Avery.”
“You defended him before I even attacked him.”
Josephine sank onto the opposite end of the couch and groaned. The room fell quiet for several seconds, Avery watching patiently while Josephine stared at the floor. Finally Avery leaned forward.
“How bad is it?”
Josephine let out a long breath, then another. “He’s everywhere,” she admitted, when she finally looked up. “Not in a creepy way. Just… everywhere.”
Avery smiled immediately.
“Not helping.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Because I like him.”
Josephine dropped her head back against the cushion. “I knew this was a mistake.”
“No,” Avery said, shaking her head. “Calling me was probably the smartest thing you’ve done all month.”
Josephine stared at the ceiling, with the distinct feeling Avery was about to make this much worse.
* * *
Avery pushed the cookie container toward Josephine, who ignored it, so Avery took one for herself and settled deeper into the couch. “That look tells me this is serious. You don’t call me over because a man bought you coffee.”
Josephine rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I really don’t.” She glanced toward the kitchen, then back. “Everything with him feels different. He pays attention to everything. He remembers everything. Sometimes it feels like he’s already ten steps ahead of me.”
Avery nodded thoughtfully. “That’s because he probably is.”
“That isn’t comforting.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
Josephine groaned. “See? This is why I almost didn’t call you.”
“Because I tell the truth?”
“Because you enjoy it.”
Avery smiled without denying it. The room went quiet while Josephine tried to organize thoughts that felt increasingly impossible to organize.
“What if I disappoint him?” she finally asked.
Avery’s smile faded. “What?”
“He looks at me like I’m something special.” Josephine twisted her fingers together. “What if that changes? What if this is easy now because everything’s still new?”
Avery studied her. “Is that what this is really about?”
Part of it was. Another part wasn’t. “He knows exactly what he wants,” Josephine admitted. “I’ve never been with someone that certain before.”
“No,” Avery said, leaning back slowly. “You haven’t.” She went quiet, looking strangely thoughtful.
“What?”
“Before you get mad, I need you to know I did this because I love you.”
Josephine narrowed her eyes. “Avery.”
“I looked into Viktor.”
“You what?”
“I looked into Viktor.”
“Avery.”
“Josephine.”
“Avery.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “You act like I hired a private investigator.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I’m pregnant, not criminally insane.” That pulled a reluctant laugh out of Josephine. “I asked questions. I wanted to know who he was.”
“You interrogated people?”
“I gathered information.”
“That’s called interrogating people.”
“It sounds nicer when I say it.”
Josephine covered her face with both hands. “Oh my God.”
Avery waited until she looked up again. “For what it’s worth, I liked what I found.”
That made Josephine pause — Avery wasn’t someone who handed out praise carelessly. “What did you find?”
Avery crossed one leg beneath her, settling in.
“People respect him.” Josephine nodded; that didn’t surprise her.
“No, but that’s not the interesting part — people trust him.
He takes care of people. Employees stay with him for years.
He funds programs and scholarships and never puts his name on them.
He keeps promises. If he says he’ll do something, it gets done. ”
Josephine stayed quiet.
“One of Julian’s business contacts worked with him for almost a decade. First thing he said was that Viktor is intense.”
“At least that’s accurate.”
“Second thing he said was that Viktor has more integrity than most people he’s met.” That caught Josephine’s attention, and Avery noticed it land. “Apparently he doesn’t play games. Honestly, the more I heard, the more he reminded me of Julian.”
Josephine frowned. “That’s a terrifying thought.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“It absolutely should be.”
Avery laughed. “You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, Josephine did. Julian was intense, protective, focused — completely devoted to Avery. Once he loved someone, there didn’t seem to be any halfway point. The comparison settled heavily in her chest.
Avery watched her carefully. “You know what’s funny? You’ve spent years claiming you wanted a strong man.”
Josephine looked away. “Avery.”
“No, seriously. Every time we talked relationships, you complained about men who couldn’t make decisions.”
“That was different.”
“Was it?” Avery leaned forward. “Eli wasn’t strong enough for you.”
The mention of her ex quieted the room. Josephine stared down at her hands. Eli had been talented, handsome, charming when he wanted to be — but she’d spent years carrying more emotional weight than she should have, making excuses, making accommodations, making herself smaller.
“You never looked happy with him,” Avery said quietly.
“No.”
“You don’t look like that now.”
Josephine didn’t answer, because Avery was right. The silence stretched until Avery smiled gently.
“You’re falling for him.”
Josephine closed her eyes. The words should have felt dramatic. Instead they felt painfully accurate. “Yes.” The admission came out almost a whisper.
Avery didn’t look surprised. “How bad?”
“Bad.”