Marina
Elira sits with her hand under the iridescent glow of the UV light, watching the burgundy polish sparkle and cure. The color she picked looks almost black under the lights, while my French tips are neater and look classier.
"I just feel frustrated," she says, chewing her wad of chewing gum. She's been sulking the entire afternoon about Dimitri breaking her heart when she is the one who broke it off with him.
"Look at it this way, girl. Pretty men are just self-obsessed.
You deserve better than him, anyway." I slide my hands under the light and settle into the seat next to her.
Our manicures are complete. We just have to wait for them to finish curing.
Then we'll be off to the shops for some real shopping this time, unlike last week when I lied to my father to sneak out.
"You mean someone like Maksim?" The way she says his name, in this dreamy tone, makes me want to gag. I roll my eyes at her and try not to show how disgusted I am by even the mention of his name. Since meeting Stepan, every time anything to do with the Orlov alliance is brought up, I cringe.
"You can have him," I grumble, and she chuckles. Elira is my best friend, no stranger to the truth of how I feel. She's known me most of my life, since year six when Oleg Raminov kissed me on the playground at school and my father yanked me out of the public schools to put me into a private school.
"Still having cold feet?" she asks, angling her body toward me more. Her curls fall down over her eyes and she blows them upward and tosses her hair.
"I don't think it would ever be considered cold feet, Lira.
I'm not nervous at all." I suck in a breath and sigh. I didn’t want to bring this topic up, but with the press toward marriage happening faster now—meetings about flowers and cakes and dresses almost weekly—it seems to loom over me like a dark cloud.
She taps her fingers on the counter under the light and nudges my knee with hers.
"I'm sorry," she says softly, though she doesn't mean to apologize for my situation. It’s more that she's showing sympathy.
Her family is wealthy, but it's the independent wealth that comes from legal businesses and trade.
Not organized crime. She has no clue what it feels like to be forced into an arranged marriage and never will.
She'll have her choice of men when she's ready to settle down.
I shrug one shoulder and bite my tongue rather than complaining again. She's heard enough complaining out of me over the past few years on this topic to last a lifetime. I need to just grow up and realize this is my fate and walk into it with my head held high.
"Did something happen?" she asks cautiously, because it's just like her to want to help me even when I refuse to open up. I love her to death, but if I start down that path, it'll lead nowhere good.
"Yeah," I tell her, forcing a smile. "We'll have an August wedding."
"This August?" she says, still tiptoeing around the subject hesitantly. I nod because what else am I going to do? I'm going to be Mrs. Maksim Orlov one way or another, and I have to get used to that fact.
"Oh, girl." She sighs. "I'm so sorry. I know how much you don't want to go through with this."
"It's alright," I tell her. "I'm really okay.
" My words are total lies. I'm really not happy about it, so this is my way of convincing myself to at least pretend to be okay.
"Maksim is a good man and he'll provide for me.
Plus, he lives here in Perm too, so I don't have to move away from you.
" I wink at her and she bumps me with her shoulder.
"You need to have an adventure before you tie the knot. You know... see the world, or have a fling or something." It's hard to keep the grin from stretching over my face as she speaks.
Stepan is the fling I want, and I want it soon. He's been texting me every morning saying good morning calling me his "Sweet Marina" and again at night to say he’ll dream of me.
I hardly think Maksim is the sort of man to do any of that. I can’t even remember the last time he used my first name other than when ordering me to do something.
"What?" she says conspiratorially and leans in. "Tell me now."
My cheeks flush, I can feel the heat, and I shrug again, almost giddy inside.
"It's nothing," I mutter, but I know it's not nothing.
If I'd have told Papa I was staying over with Elira after shopping, I'd have had the night of my life.
What kept me from doing that was my nerves.
What if I'm not what he thinks? What if my inexperience is a turn off to a man his age?
It's not like I've been having sex with someone to have practice.
"Tell me. Now," she repeats emphatically, and I snicker.
"There is someone," I tell her, and as if on cue, my phone buzzes. I look down at it, lying face up on the table next to my hands drying under the light.
Elira's light switches off and she snatches my phone, grinning at the screen. "Who's 'S'? Is he a secret? Does your father know?"
I pull my hand out prematurely, risking a smudge on the nails, and take my phone back from her to see the message.
S: 3:47 PM: Hello, Sweet Marina, would you like to join me for coffee?
"How do you know it's a man?" I ask her, locking my phone and laying it down. I slide my hand under the light to finish the curing and she clicks her tongue at me.
"Because you don't get rosy cheeks and doe eyes when you think about a woman. Unless…" Her hand flutters to her mouth and I knock my knee into hers.
"I'm not a lesbian, Lira. You know that." I roll my eyes and she laughs.
"So it is a man! I knew it. Who is he? What's he like? Is that why you wanted me to cover for you the other day?" She's leaning in now, hanging off every facial expression since I'm not saying much.
"His name is Stepan and he's so amazing," I whine, letting the pressure off my chest. I glance at my phone to see another message and decide my hands have had long enough to cure. "And he's so handsome too."
S: 3:49 PM: Have you heard of XXX? Meet me there in about half an hour?
My heart flutters as I read his invitation. But I'm supposed to be with Elira for dinner and then a movie later tonight. I'd feel awful canceling on her.
"Is he texting you? What's he saying?" she peeks over my shoulder as I lock my phone for privacy.
"He's asking me to go to coffee. God, Lira, he's so fun and smart. And he's strong." I bite my lip as I remember the feeling of his body grinding on mine. God, he turned me on so much, there is residual arousal swarming my lower half right now just thinking about it.
"So go! When is he wanting to meet up?" Elira relaxes back in her seat and picks up her purse, sorting through it to pull out a few rubles to pay the nail tech.
"Now.... Like thirty minutes." I wince at her and hang my purse over my shoulder, but she's still grinning.
"You deserve a fun adventure, Rina. You should go and have fun, and I swear if he kisses you, you'd better tell me everything." She stands and I stand with her, pecking her on the cheek.
"Are you sure? We had plans." I still feel guilty. And if my father finds out I'm ditching my friend, he'll kill me, and that's before he even learns why I've ditched her.
"Go," she insists. "I'll be fine. We have decades of life as lonely housewives to drink wine and do playdates with our kids. You have less than six months to go have the fling of your life. Just use protection!" she says, winking.
I chuckle again and head for the door, having already paid for my manicure, then I pull out my phone and type a quick response.
Marina: 3:55 PM: Sure. I'd love to. I'm on my way now.
Then I catch the first cab north and head that way.
When I walk into the cafe twenty minutes later, I hope I'm the first one there so I can settle my nerves a little before Stepan shows up.
But I walk in to find him seated at a table with two drinks in front of him and a bouquet of flowers in cellophane. Beside it sits a small red box.
My heart swells as I approach, and he stands up, smiling so warmly it changes the atmosphere of the room. But it does nothing to settle the butterflies in my belly. They swarm like crazy as I walk up, and he takes my hand, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.
"You look ravishing today," he growls in my ear, making a shiver crawl down my back.
"Thank you... What's all this?" I pull away and nod at the flowers which he holds up proudly, like a child showing his parent a hand-drawn stick figure.
"For you... Roses for a woman beautiful enough to capture my attention." I take them as he lifts the red box and says, "And chocolates, because you deserve a treat today."
Everything about this man is so charming. He has such charisma. "Stepan, that wasn't necessary." I hug them to my chest as I sit, and he slides a coffee across the table to me as he takes his seat too.
"I know, but I wanted to. You seemed a little discouraged when you spoke about your family the other day, so I wanted to make sure you never had a reason to frown about me."
I'm so conflicted as I set the flowers, chocolates, and my purse on the table.
It's like he's cultivating this perfect environment for me to feel emotionally stable, but he doesn't realize that this can only be a fling to me.
He's so sweet and so kind, and I feel horrible knowing I’m going to marry someone else.
I don't feel as guilty as I did before, because I have no emotional responsibility to Maksim.
I haven't said "I do" yet, so I'm still a free woman.
But Stepan is studying my face with so much attention, I can tell he's not here to have a fling. He really likes me.
"That really is sweet. Thank you, Stepan.
" I pause, thinking how intense this chemistry feels all of a sudden, and I want to lean into it, but I can't. I don't even know his last name, but I think it should stay that way.
The more personal details we exchange, the more my heart settles into feeling like this is a real relationship.
It will only cause more heartache in the end.
"Are you okay?" he asks, tipping his head.
"Oh, I'm fine. I’ve just never had a man buy me flowers before. It's romantic." I feel myself growing warmer, the telltale signs of arousal before my body starts a familiar ache I love so much.
"I'm glad you approve. There's only more of that to come." He winks at me before sipping his drink, so I take the moment to have a drink too.
What I taste shocks me. It's warm and sweet, thick and creamy. Exactly what I'd have ordered if I were here before him. I grin and scrunch my face up as he smiles at me over his cup.
"What?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.
"This is a syrnyy raf... It's so good." I take another drink and let the warmth settle in my belly. "How did you know?" It's like he can read my mind or something.
"I guessed?" he says, shrugging. "You had that vodka tonic, and honestly..." His head ducks like he's embarrassed, but he says nothing.
"Tell me," I urge, drinking more. The salty-sweet, creamy goodness coats my tongue and I can't get enough.
"I, uh... I dated this girl once who loved them, and you sort of remind me of her. So..." Now he looks ashamed, maybe a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I didn't pick the right drink. I wanted to be romantic and—"
"Stepan," I chide gently, touching his hand. He stops and lifts his gaze to meet mine. "It's perfect, and so thoughtful. It's my favorite drink."
Instead of pulling away, he turns his hand over under mine and laces his fingers through mine.
Then he lifts my hand to his lips where he kisses my knuckles and sends a flurry of sensations through my body at once—warmth, electricity, ache.
It's intoxicating when he holds my gaze like this, makes my core scream for some sort of escalation to the interaction.
"You deserve so much more than just that, Marina." There he goes saying my name in that rich baritone again. It makes me shudder with attraction.
I'm speechless now, unable to form any words because I don't think I want to talk anymore. I want to be in a more private place with him to pick up where we left off the other night. And it's early, just after four. I have hours to enjoy whatever he wants to do, and with Elira's blessing too.
"What made you text me?" I ask him, slowly pulling my fingers from his grasp to take another drink of my coffee.
"Truthfully?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows.
I chuckle and say, "Yes, of course."
"You won't laugh?" Stepan sets his coffee down and his gaze grows intense, so much so that my heart beats oddly.
"Why would I laugh? Unless you say it's because your dick is burning for me." I laugh at my own dumb joke but his face is dead serious.
"I texted you because I can't stop thinking about you." He shrugs and finally looks away, then his gaze returns and it's smoldering. "And you really did make my dick burn for you." Then a smirk crosses his face and his jaw works a little trying to hide behind his humor.
So he knows how to take a joke and he knows how to communicate his feelings. I'm only seeing huge green flags, which makes this all that much harder. Stepan is going to want things from me I can't give him, and I'm going to have to let him down easy, but for now I just want to have fun.
"So you just came for the coffee and smoldering gazes?" I sip some more, hiding behind the cup, but he's bold.
"I invited you to coffee so I could invite you back to my place, hoping you'd come this time. And when I say come, I don't mean enter my home."
I almost choke on the drink in my mouth and I have to cough a few times, using a napkin Stepan thrusts into my hand to stop myself from snorting dark brew out my nostrils. I'm standing, bouncing between laughter and near death, and he stands beside me, putting his hand on the small of my back.
"You alright?" he whispers, leaning in.
I nod, because I’m still gasping for air, and then he says, "Good, because the only choking I want you to do is on my dick..." I stiffen as my cheeks start blazing. "Come home with me, Marina...."
And that is the end of my resistance.
I grin at him and nod, picking up my purse and flowers while Stepan takes his coffee in hand and snags the chocolates.
From what I can tell, this may be the ride of my life.
And I'm going to enjoy every second of it until I’m forced to get off.
And my God, do I hope I get off.