Six months later… Vadim #2
And I bet I know exactly where he is right now—standing outside the staff exit, waiting to take me home.
I can't contain the smile lifting my cheeks, and I wouldn't want to. I lucked out that night at The Butterfly Lounge, latching onto a completely random stranger. It could have gone very badly.
In fact, there was a 99.999999% probability it should have gone badly.
But instead, I got Vadim Iziaslav Piotrowski. And I make sure to treat him like the VIP he is every single day, in every way I can.
I tap my way back to the front desk just as my client is finishing up with reception.
"You have no idea how much I needed that," she says to me. "Thank you so much."
"It was my pleasure." I grin and dip my head. "That's what we're here for."
Another great thing about working here? I can choose my hours and workload. A privilege, for sure. I want to work as much as possible, but at the same time, I don't want to overdo it the way I used to. Two to three clients a day is the perfect sweet spot.
I hear her say something to Alicia at the desk, low enough that I can't hear it, and then the automatic doors open with a soft hiss.
"Hundred dollar tip," Alicia says excitedly once the doors close. "And she asked if you specifically take bookings."
"Tell her yes."
"Already did."
"Awesome, thanks. Have a good night, Alicia."
"You too, Preston. Your ride's out front."
I snort at my ride, tapping my way to the exit, the doors sliding open as I reach them. The air shifts, the warmth of the casino giving way to the cooler air of the corridor beyond, and then I hear him.
"Good shift?" Vadim asks.
I keep getting closer, his leather-grounded scent growing stronger with every step I take.
"Got a hundred dollar tip from my last client."
"And well deserved, mój kochany."
I find Vadim's arm with my free hand, and he takes it, folding my hand into the crook of his elbow the way he always does.
His other hand finds my jaw. He kisses me, slow and deep, and it feels so damn good.
"Take me home," I murmur, his taste strong on my lips.
"Actually, do you mind if we take a detour? I've got something planned."
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise."
"Should I be worried?"
His fingers graze my cheek. "Not at all."
We get into his SUV, and as we drive off, I'm silent, mentally trying to calculate where he's taking me.
Vadim chuckles. "Hate to break it to you, but if you're doing what I think you're doing, you're out of luck. You're never going to guess."
"Don't underestimate me."
He chuckles some more. "Fair."
But I have to admit, after what feels to be about ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I really don't have any idea where we are or where we're heading.
"Are we almost there?"
"Almost. Another ten minutes or so."
"You know, you can just tell me. It's not like I'm going to see whatever it is, anyway."
"Uh…"
That stumps him.
"But hey, no, it's fine, it's fine," I relent. "You want it to be a surprise, so let's go with that."
He lets out a small sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Pres."
About ten minutes later, we come to a stop.
"Wow, it's beautiful," I say, unbuckling my seat belt.
"Smart-ass," Vadim mutters before running around to open my door for me.
Obviously, I can't see anything, but the moment Vadim opens the car door, the air hits me. I step out and breathe in the smell of open land, dry grass, and something faintly piney. I turn my face into it.
After a day enclosed in the spa, this is exactly what I needed.
"Heaven," I murmur. "We're out of Reno?"
"We are."
"Where exactly?"
"I'm not sure if you've ever been here before. It's a five-minute drive from Dad and Iza's place."
"O-kay. And why are we here?"
"Stick your hand out."
I do.
He drops something into it.
"Keys?"
"Yep."
"Keys to what?"
He pauses for a second then slowly says, "The keys to the house we're going to build together. On the ten acres we're standing on."
"Holy shit!"
"I'm coming in to give you a hug from behind you," he informs me so I'm not startled.
His strong arms slide around me, and he nuzzles his chin into the crook of my shoulder.
"I remember what you said after we left my father's place, about how much you loved the fresh air.
I thought about it and figured there's nothing stopping us from moving out of the city.
It's only a twenty or so minute commute to the casino, but it means we get to be outdoors a lot more.
I've been looking for a few months, and when my agent found this lot, I came out here and knew immediately. "
"Describe it for me."
"Sure. Okay, let's see. We're standing on the eastern edge of the lot.
The land runs flat for about a hundred yards ahead of us then rises slightly toward a tree line of ponderosa pine mostly, along the northern boundary.
To your left, about two hundred yards out, there's a ridge.
Nothing dramatic but enough elevation to give our house a view back toward the city.
" He pauses. "The soil is good. I had it tested.
And the tree line on the west side acts as a natural windbreak, which keeps things here less windy than you'd expect. "
I smile, falling more in love with the place the more he describes it. "It sounds wonderful."
Vadim moves and takes my hand. "What do you think? There's no rush to move out here, and we still need to design and build a house, so that will take some time. But…are you okay with it?"
"I am," I reply, giving his fingers a tight squeeze. "I appreciate you checking in, but, yeah, I'm more than okay with this. I have a feeling we're going to be really happy living here."
He kisses my forehead. "I think so, too, Pres."
After a few more minutes walking around, exploring, Vadim describing various things to me, we get back into the SUV.
I talk the whole way back to the apartment about house plans and layouts and what I want the kitchen to be like and whether we could have a wrap-around porch. Vadim listens, chiming in occasionally with a "yes" or "that works" or "whatever you want, mój kochany."
When we pull into the basement parking lot, my mind is still racing with house plans. Vadim cuts the engine, but before I can unbuckle my seat belt, he says something that doesn't make any sense.
"Oh, I just remembered. I still have a question left to ask you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Remember when we played the abbreviated version of 21 questions?"
"Vaguely, yes. But why are you bringing it up now? I don't get it."
"Because I still have a question to ask you, remember?"
He's smiling. I can tell he is, and, god, I wish I could see his handsome face just one more time.
"Okay, fine. Go ahead. Ask your third question from a game we played over a year ago, weirdo."
"Okay, fine. I will. I'm going to pick up your hand," he says, seconds before he does, sliding something along my finger. "Marry me?"
He doesn't change his voice at all, he just utters those two simple words like we're talking about where to go for lunch and he suggests, "What about Mexican?"
"Wait…what? A-are you for real?"
"I am."
"You're proposing to me right now? Here in your car. In the basement parking lot, to be precise."
"Why not? You accosted me outside the men's room, and look how great that turned out."
He's got a point there.
"For me, Pres, the most romantic thing is getting to spend every day with you.
Designing a home with you. Driving to work with you.
Picking you up at the end of every shift.
Talking about how our days were. Describing what I'm going to wear to you in the morning.
Listening to you sip your tea while I watch a soccer match with you by my side.
That said, if you prefer, I can charter a private jet and take you to the top of the Eiffel Tower and ask you the same question there. "
By the time he's done talking, tears are running down my face.
"I take it back." My voice is barely above a whisper. "This might just be the most romantic proposal ever."
Vadim clears his throat. "You know, it is customary for the recipient to respond at some point."
"Oh, right."
I clear the tears from my face, exhale sharply, and focus to make sure I get my delivery juuust right.
Going for casual, which takes considerable effort given my emotions are a wreck, one corner of my mouth lifts, I shrug a shoulder, and reply with, "Sure. Why not?"
I hope you enjoyed Vadim and Preston's story.