Chapter 23 - Laurel
By the time Mila, Nat, and Sofiya dropped me off at the restaurant, Mik was already gone, and while I waited around until a little past the time I normally left, he didn’t return.
I had a car now, a big, luxurious SUV that seemed like overkill when it mostly slogged through traffic on the way home.
Since I had gone in with Mik that morning, I was trying to pull up the app to order a ride when my car rolled into the parking lot, right in front of the restaurant doors.
Good, now I could get onto him about changing the menu again, but when I hurried over, it wasn’t Mik coming back to get me, but one of his drivers.
“Oh, hey,” I said, flustered when I opened the front passenger side. “I was about to call for a ride.”
It was already slightly uncomfortable to have a driver and sit in the back seat, but if I slammed the door in his face and went back there now, wouldn’t that be even weirder? Sometimes I didn’t think I was cut out to be rich.
“Boss’s orders,” he said curtly. He wasn’t exactly very friendly, but he did smile ever so slightly when he pointed to some papers I’d left on the passenger seat the last time I drove it. “Let me move all of this for you.”
“No, that’s fine,” I said, hurrying to the back. “It’s already crazy you had to come out here.”
“Boss’s orders,” he repeated with a mild shrug.
The traffic wasn’t as bad as usual since I had left late, but it still took a while to get back to the hills and wind our way up to the mansion.
This particular driver sometimes manned the small gatehouse at the perimeter of the property, and when we passed through it, there was still a solid minute of driving before we pulled up at the front door.
“When you look up from the city, it’s hard to tell just how big some of these properties are,” I said. “I always feel bad when one of you has to bring the deliveries up.”
“Why?” he asked.
Okay, so much for conversation. I had seen Mik speaking to all his employees as if they were friends, or at least knew each other very well, and their slight Russian accents made me wonder if they followed him over to the US.
Did they know I was only a temporary bride and there was no real reason to get to know me?
They acted more like secret service agents than drivers.
Mik arrived home shortly after me, exhausted and on edge. “How about I cook dinner?” I asked.
“Did you recently read the news that you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?” he asked, grinning. “Because even if you cook dinner, I’m not budging on the menu.”
I scowled at him, but was failing to resist his charm.
It was his money he was throwing away, and really, it wasn’t like the wine would actually rot.
Maybe I could convince him in a month or two, after the grand opening.
I let myself be pulled into his arms and tipped my head down so he wouldn’t see my smile as he nuzzled the top of my head.
“I’ll agree to pause the conversation about that poor Cabernet not getting an opportunity to be enjoyed,” I said, smiling harder as laughter vibrated his chest.
“That’s no fun,” he said, his hand sliding up my back to tug on my hair so I’d look up at him.
“You really do try to fight me on purpose,” I accused. With his hands moving into my hair and his chin dipping down toward me, I couldn’t say I cared at the moment.
Just one kiss. It had been a long time, and I was certain I had my cravings under control. This wasn’t going to be like the last time I went on a health kick and then binged on chocolate cake after giving it up for six months. I could handle one small taste.
His mouth touched down gently, his hands cupping the sides of my face. I stepped in closer so our bodies touched, his chest hard and warm against mine. I was already on the verge of being too hot. Letting my head fall back, he kissed me more deeply, already going past one tiny taste.
His tongue darted out to part my lips, and I sighed, gripping the front of his shirt. As quickly as the kiss started, it was over, with Mik being the one to pull away.
“That was unexpected,” he said, looking as profoundly disappointed as I felt. “But, about dinner…”
I groaned. “Please don’t say we’re going out with your family again.” At his frown, I quickly added, “They’re great, but I already ate enough for a week at lunch, and then they ran me ragged through six different shops.”
“Those women are Olympic-level shoppers,” he said fondly. “But no, we’re not going out. I am. I promised my brother that I’d help him out with something.”
“Can I do anything?” I asked, hoping he’d include me so I could get a glimpse of what he might be doing on all the nights he was out. I completely forgot how tired I was supposed to be.
“That’s sweet,” he said. “But it’s going to be boring and maybe dirty.”
“Like, dirt from the ground or are you going to a strip joint?” I was only half joking.
“He’s looking at fixer-upper properties down near the beach.”
“Want me to wait up for you?” I asked.
What was I doing? My curiosity was going to get me in trouble.
I reminded myself firmly that he stopped kissing me, so he clearly knew it was a bad idea to start.
Putting on a show in front of his family or the other employees was one thing.
There was no reason at all for us to get so cozy when we were alone.
“Better not,” he said, closing off again. “It’ll probably be late.”
I recognized that look. The subject was closed. I ate a pear for dinner, not exaggerating about how much I ate at lunch, then hung around in the media room, flipping through channels and starting movies, only to give up on them fifteen minutes in. Was I curious or worried?
And if I was worried, about what?
I finally dozed off on the big leather couch and dragged myself to bed.
The next morning, Mik had either gone in early or not returned home at all, so I headed out on my own.
The same driver as the evening before was waiting around near my car, and hopped into the driver’s seat as soon as he saw me come out.
“You don’t have to drive me,” I said, searching the recesses of my mind for his name. “Piotr, right?”
He nodded twice. “Yes, I do. And don’t say it’s silly or apologize.”
I grimaced, but got in. “Boss’s orders?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What if I had ten stops planned for this morning?”
That actually made him crack a smile in the rearview mirror. “Then we’d make ten stops.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind a coffee from that place on the corner at the bottom of the hill,” I said.
Without a word of complaint, he rolled through the drive-through and ordered my drink, looking offended when I suggested he get something for himself.
I was able to catch up on some emails I’d been meaning to answer and arrange a meeting with a kooky old collector who supposedly had this extremely rare bottle of champagne Mik gave me the green light to acquire.
Even if I couldn’t buy it from him, I was excited to see his collection and hear about his travels around the world solely to taste and collect different wines and spirits.
I caught myself thinking it must be nice to be that rich, realizing I was checking the internet while a chauffeur drove me into work. I really was that rich, at least for now. It was odd that Mik suddenly decided to spoil me in this way, but why not enjoy it while it lasted?
“Maybe see you later,” I said to Piotr when he dropped me at the restaurant.
He nodded and drove off, and a glance through the open door of Mik’s office showed me he was already there.
Why did that make me breathe easier? If something had happened to him, someone would have notified me.
But if I didn’t worry about what he got up to during his many late nights, then I might get suspicious, and that didn’t sit well with me.
I barely made it to my own office door before he caught up to me, wrapping his arms around my middle and turning me to face him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“I could eat breakfast, I guess,” I said, studying the slightly manic look in his eyes, then dropping my gaze to his mouth. “Is that a split lip?” I asked, leaning back to get a better look.
“I burned it on my morning coffee,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t mean breakfast. Let’s go somewhere fun. We’ll call it a honeymoon.”
I stared up at him. A vacation? Was he crazy? “You do remember you’re opening a restaurant in a month?” I asked. “The builders have been staying late every day trying to get everything done, and you want to leave town?”
I laughed, certain he was joking, but he didn’t join in, instead looking genuinely disappointed that I didn’t jump to agree.
“The builders can keep staying late if we’re in Italy,” he said, pulling me closer while his hands moved lower. “Or France. Or Spain. Any vineyard you want.”
“Why do you suddenly seem so hellbent on getting out of LA?” I demanded. I wasn’t stupid. “Is something going on?” It didn’t take a medical professional to know that the cut on his lip wasn’t from hot coffee.
He laughed, but it was forced. “Is that wifely concern?”
Before I could answer, he yanked me flush with his hard body, making me forget my train of thought. Oh yeah, did his desire to go on vacation within weeks of his business either soaring or crashing have anything to do with the late nights he didn’t ever want to talk about?
But then he was kissing me, his hands smoothing their way up to slide into my hair. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Wasn’t I just thinking how great it would be to travel around the world tasting wines? Almost immediately after, my magic husband offered it to me.
Fake husband. The same one who thought he could lie about his busted lip. And yet, I didn’t pull away as his tongue tangled with mine. No, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on. So much for being able to handle a tiny taste.
“Delivery rolling up,” someone called from down the hall.
I froze, then remembered it didn’t matter if anyone saw us making out. It wasn’t exactly professional, but we were married, and Chase and Todd thought we were the cutest couple other than themselves.
Mik pulled away slowly. “Did I change your mind?” he asked, eyes dancing with mischief.
I shoved him, but he held on tight, laughing. “I have a delivery,” I said, wriggling out of his grasp.
He followed me out back to help, dragging the dolly with him, asking how much I spent on this new shipment. “I think this one is something for the kitchen,” I told him. “I’m the one trying to constantly save you money by not letting perfectly good wine go to waste every time you change the menu.”
Hurrying up behind me, he slapped me briskly on my ass cheek, giving me a little squeeze before letting go. “Let’s argue about it some more in your office after we get everything inside.”
He’d been on edge. Now he was joking around, but I had a feeling he was going to press about the vacation. Was I going to be able to resist for the sake of his restaurant? Did I want to?
The truck backed in as we walked outside to meet it in the alley, with Mik holding up his hand to let them know when to stop. As soon as the reverse beeps stopped, the door of the truck crashed upward from the inside.
In the next instant, I was on the ground, flung out of the way by Mik, who threw himself to the far side of the truck as I bounced off the back door.
At least half a dozen masked men dressed all in black swarmed out.
I screamed for Mik, and scrambled on my hands and knees back into the restaurant to the sound of breaking glass and a hail of bullets.