Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Savina
A COUPLE OF weeks after the amendment, my stepmother plans a dinner date for Pavel and me. I don’t fight her on it, because I actually think it’s a good idea. Maybe the first good idea she’s ever had.
“You two need to get to know each other before the big day,” she had told me while criticizing what I was planning on wearing that night.
I think I would probably die on the spot if that woman ever gave me an actual compliment.
After a lot of deliberation and second-guessing, thanks to my stepmother’s criticism, I ended up settling on a form-fitting, plum-colored dress that makes my green eyes pop, and a pair of nude heels that accentuate my toned legs.
I applied some light makeup and took over an hour tediously curling my long, thick hair to make the perfect beach waves.
To finish off the look, I donned a few pieces of jewelry — a gold bangle bracelet and a pair of matching earrings.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach on the way to the restaurant.
And by the time I arrive, I’m an anxiety-riddled mess.
I haven’t been on a date since high school, but it’s not like my entire future was depending on it.
This first date with Pavel will be a telltale sign of how our lives will be together.
If there’s no spark, no interest there, then I don’t know how I’ll feel about that.
I just know that I’m going to allow myself to be open tonight and hope for the best.
Straightening my dress on the way to the restaurant, I thank an older gentleman as he opens the door for me. The place is fancy with murmured conversations floating through the spacious room as light classical music plays through the speakers littered throughout.
The hostess lights up when she sees me, smiling with more teeth than I thought a human could possibly have. “May I help you?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m here for Pavel Sokolov,” I say.
She checks her book and smiles impossibly wider, resembling more of the Cheshire Cat at this point. “Oh, yes, right this way.”
I follow her as she leads me to a private corner at the back of the restaurant. Pavel is sitting on one side of a square table, looking bored as he glances at the menu he’s currently holding in his hands. I take the time to surreptitiously check him out while he’s occupied.
He’s wearing a charcoal gray three-piece suit with perfectly tailored, clean lines.
He’s handsome. Objectively. I can admit that.
But not in the way his brother is. Whereas Dimitri has all sharp, strong features, Pavel is on the softer side.
His cheeks are a little puffier; his jaw a little less defined.
He’s cleanshaven while Dimitri always has a five o’clock shadow or stubble.
There’s nothing about Pavel that makes my pulse spike or my breath hitch.
Instead, I just feel…indifferent. Huh. I definitely don’t feel like I thought I would, but maybe all of that will come with time.
I mean, the contract was only amended a week ago.
It’s not like my brain has even had time to really process the fact that I’ll be marrying Pavel instead of Dimitri.
Plastering what I hope is a genuine smile on my face, I sit in the chair the hostess pulled out for me and look across the table at Pavel. He glances up and grins, but I can tell it’s forced.
“Hi,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper before I clear my throat. “Been waiting long?” I ask.
He looks at the fancy Rolex on his wrist and then shakes his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes before he hurriedly brushes it away. He stares at me from across the table, and I expect he’s going to compliment me about my dress, but instead he simply says, “Only fifteen minutes or so.”
“Oh,” I say, nodding.
Disappointment must be showing on my face, because he quickly adds, “You look…nice.”
Nice? I look nice? That’s it?!
I have a feeling if I dressed like this for any other man, including his brother, he would be eating out of my hand by the end of the night. And I know for a fact that I definitely wouldn’t have to fish for a simple compliment.
This is definitely not how I saw the night starting off. I can only hope that things turn around and go uphill from here on out.
“I haven’t ordered anything yet, because I wasn’t sure what you would like,” he says before returning his attention to the menu in front of him.
I suppose that was considerate of him. It’s not like we know each other well…
or at all really. Staring across the table, I notice Pavel is on the thinner side, definitely not as tall and muscular as his brother, but that doesn’t bother me much.
If he has a great personality, which I hope to discover tonight, I don’t really care about muscles and height.
He’s still taller than me, which is a plus, and at least I won’t have to strain my neck to look up at him on our wedding day.
The waiter comes to the table and takes our order.
Pavel orders the steak with broccolini and I get the salmon with asparagus.
He also orders us the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu, and I’m thankful when the sommelier brings it out quickly, carefully pouring us both a glass before leaving us alone.
I raise my wine glass and offer, “A toast to us on our first date.”
Pavel’s lip twitches, and he slowly raises his glass and touches it to mine. “To us,” he murmurs.
Frowning, I pull my glass back and take a sip. I’m not a wine connoisseur by any means, but it tastes good. “Very nice,” I comment.
Pavel hums in agreement but stays quiet.
Minutes tick by excruciatingly slow, and I almost feel like I’m waiting for a dentist appointment rather than on what should be an exciting first date with my future husband.
“So…how old are you?” I ask even though I already know the answer.
“I just turned twenty-three,” he answers.
“Happy belated birthday,” I offer.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
I nervously unfold my napkin and stare at the cutlery spread out before me, wondering how sharp the steak knife really is. Maybe I could accidentally stab myself somehow and get carted off by an ambulance. That’s how badly I want to get out of this date.
No, stop that, I tell myself. I need to give him a chance. I need to give this a chance.
We sip our wine in silence. I expect him to ask me questions about myself, but he doesn’t.
Maybe he’s not curious or maybe he just doesn’t care.
I’m starting to think it’s the latter, because he doesn’t seem to be interested in me at all.
In fact, he’s barely glanced in my direction since I arrived.
You would think he’d want to get a real good look at his future wife, right?
Sighing, I down my wine in misery. The waiter brings out our food several minutes later, even though it feels like four hours, and I’m thankful I can focus on something new.
“How’s your steak?” I ask Pavel before popping a piece of salmon into my mouth.
“Dry,” he answers.
Kind of like your personality, my inner bitch quips. “Oh, that’s too bad,” I say out loud. Pavel doesn’t ask me about my meal, but I didn’t really expect him to. We eat in uncomfortable silence, listening to the couples around us engage in actual conversation.
Since this date can’t be any more of a disaster, I decide to ask him about something Dimitri would never allow me to do.
“So, my best friend, Darby Montague, and I would like to get an apartment downtown. I would like to move out of my parents’ house for a little while before the wedding since it’s still a few months away and —. ”
“Sure,” he says, cutting me off.
“Really?” I ask, practically beaming. “I would make sure the apartment is totally secure with a doorman and everything,” I explain quickly.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he assures me.
I sit back in my seat, in complete awe of his nonchalant attitude.
I’m almost positive at this point if I told him I was going to go skydiving without a parachute, he would allow it.
Pavel has about as much interest in me as he does the dirty linen napkin he’s balling into his hands before he discards it on the table beside his half-eaten plate of food.
For the rest of the date, I feign interest in my future husband and keep a fake smile plastered on my face. He never questions the smile, not knowing that it’s forced or perhaps not caring.
He talks about his hobbies — model ships and painting — and that he’s a history buff.
“How many times a day do you think about the Roman Empire?” I ask him, thinking back to a TikTok trend I saw about women asking their boyfriends and husbands that question and being absolutely astounded by their eerily similar answers.
He considers my question for a moment and then answers with, “Hmm, probably several times a day.”
I laugh. A genuine laugh for the first time the entire night. “Really?”
“Why? Is that weird?” he asks with a cocked brow.
“No, it was just this TikTok trend. Women asking their men on video that same question and their reactions to the answers. Apparently, most men think about the Roman Empire a lot.”
“What’s TikTok?” he questions.
My smile falters. “Oh, it’s an app. It has a lot of dancing and funny videos. And there’s BookTok, which my best friend is obsessed with.”
He nods slowly as if he’s trying to understand my fascination but can’t even be bothered to come up with a response. He simply says, “I see.”
“So, what kind of movies do you like?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject.
“I don’t really watch movies.” And then he adds, “Or much TV at all really.”
So much for thinking we could spend some cozy nights in bed binge-watching our new favorite show or movie. No, I’ll be in bed, and he’ll be in another room playing with his model airplanes or ships or whatever the hell he said earlier.
Brooding, I pick at my plate, having lost my appetite pretty much the moment we began talking.
Pavel and I have nothing in common. I’m not sure I had anything in common with Dimitri either, but at least the banter between us could have kept me going.
At least he would’ve made me feel alive.
I feel like I’m already dead inside with Pavel, and this is only our first date.
Shaking away the thoughts of Dimitri, I decide to power through this even if it slowly kills me. “So, you and your brother are pretty close?” I ask, refusing to give up.
He nods in response.
“And how did Dimitri take the sudden contract change?” I wasn’t planning on asking Pavel this question, but curiosity got the best of me. I wonder if Dimitri remained unaffected or if he’s angry or…feeling anything really.
“He was pissed,” he confesses.
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah. Stormed into our father’s office, demanding it be changed back.”
This is all news to me. Wow. Dimitri wanted to marry me? But that doesn’t make any sense. “I thought he would be happy about getting out of it,” I say softly.
“I thought so too, but I think he’s tired of being my father’s puppet. Getting married was sort of his way out of the family business and the riskier side of things. At least that’s what I think,” he says quietly.
“Oh, I understand.” So, it really has nothing to do with me but more so not having the luxury of being a married man with less responsibilities for his father. That makes more sense, because I’m pretty sure Dimitri hates me.
The waiter appears in front of the table. “Dessert?” he asks.
“No,” Pavel says immediately. “Just the check.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back with that,” the waiter says before leaving.
Apparently, Pavel wants this date to be over with sooner rather than later. Not that I can say I blame him. It was definitely nothing like I’d expected. The only thing I learned about my future husband tonight is that we have literally nothing in common. But, hey, opposites attract; right?
Pavel quickly pays for the check and then walks me outside. My father’s town car is idling at the curb, and Pavel opens the back door for me.
“Well, that was…great,” Pavel says, and I swear he almost choked on the last word.
“Yeah, it was definitely something,” I agree with a nervous laugh.
Pavel leans in and places a quick, cold peck on my cheek. “Goodnight, Savina,” he says somberly before walking away.
I place my hand over my cheek. No spark. No lingering interest. Just…nothing.
“Goodnight,” I manage to say. Tears gather in my eyes as I climb in the back of the car, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. I have to spend the rest of my life with a man who can barely stand being in my very presence. What am I going to do?