“Stop talking like that,” I yell as I push up from the table. I hate when he does this. No, I’m not listening. Without another word I walk away. He keeps talking, yelling at me, but I’m not listening anymore.
Giving in to my anger, I slam the door as I leave the house. Then I step out from under the porch. The bright, sunny day instantly changes my dark mood. It’s a beautiful day, especially for March; sometimes it feels like they are so rare in Chicago every one has to be appreciated.
A black Mercedes is in front of the house, idling at the curb. Ivan steps out of the back seat. We stare at each other until my eyes blur with the need to blink. I watch his jaw work in fascination.
“We have an appointment. We need to leave now.”
I just nod. Questions are swirling but my tongue won’t work. The drive in the back of the chauffer-driven car where he doesn’t look my way once is made in complete silence. The car pulls up to a department store so exclusive I’ve never even been in it before. I couldn’t afford a pair of socks in here.
I want to argue, if only to say something, but I know resistance is futile. I follow him up through the store, careful to keep my eyes off him. A woman is waiting outside the elevator. Tall, at well over five foot nine she should be overwhelming but she’s not. Maybe because of her soft brown eyes, and the way she’s a plus size too. Although, I am seriously jealous of how curvy she is.
Her smile is welcoming to me, but she barely nods at Ivan. “Hi, I’m Lydia. I’ll be helping you today. Your big bad boss gave me his orders. But me and you, let’s talk about what you feel comfortable in.
“You can go, Mr. Volkov. I have your credit card information. Work clothes of the highest quality with a fair amount of work-appropriate dresses no shorter than two inches above the knee. And everything that looks good on her in every color that flatters, so that she has something to wear for the next five years if need be.”
She waves at Ivan with a wiggle of her fingers and a sassy smile. Then she takes me by a firm hand and drags me behind her. I follow with a sense of comfort I wouldn’t have thought possible considering how much I hate shopping. Maybe it’s because she’s plus size too.
I chance a glance back to find Ivan frowning, standing right where Lydia left him. His eyes meet mine, and he nods. I watch helplessly as he turns away, pressing the button for the elevator.
We’re stopped in front of a dressing room that is two times the size of my bedroom. Through the open door I see a silk chaise lounge, mini fridge, large leather chair, and a half circle of mirrors.
“I’ve pulled several things, but nothing is written in stone. You don’t like it then you don’t wear it. Yeah, your hunky boss who so wants you brought you here, but this is about you. Good job landing a great white shark like Volkov.”
Wait, what?
Lydia winks at me. “Not going to lie, when Elise asked for a favor, which she never does, by the way, she stopped me dead at the mention of Volkov. The guy is notoriously tight with his money and time and favors—giving or receiving. If he took the time to call Elise and ask for something, it had to be a big deal, and I had to know the scoopy scoop. Don’t worry, I swear I don’t gossip. I just love knowing stuff no one else does.”
Her hand is on a long bar filled with clothes that blow my mind just seeing them on a hanger. My head is swimming, overwhelmed at what is happening and she’s saying.
Tilting her head, her eyes are big with concern. “Are you okay? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
I shake my head. “No, I want to. I just...I wasn’t expecting this. Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?”
“Ivan?” I can’t bring myself to repeat what she said.
“Oh, how Ivan Volkov has been caught and is off the market once and for all? Totally. I’ve seen the look more than enough times to know it. I get it though, he’s being a dick, right?”
I nod, almost against my will. Normally, I wouldn’t even think of talking to Lydia about any of this. Yet her open and honest nature has me feeling I have to respond in kind. And right now I need all the help I can get.
“Sadly, it’s going to happen. They get all skittish, they think they are losing something by not being able to fuck random women who won’t make demands on them. At the same time, they’ll be damned if they let you get away with thinking you’re going to fuck anyone else but them, because man oh man do you belong to them.”
She chuckles. “Poor guys, they are terrified to admit they belong to you too. It scares them—what are you going to do with the power you have over them? After being so used to having all the power not just in business, but their personal life, they are loath to give it up. You have to get him to understand he’s going to get far more back than he’s losing. Show him how happy you can make him by being with you. Patience, sweetie, you will need patience in buckets the size of the Grand Canyon.”
A shiver runs through me remembering the way Ivan said I wasn’t going anywhere. The way he kissed me as if branding me as his. Damn it, I’m in love with the fucker, and that terrifies me as much as it thrills me. What could happy look like? “I don’t if I’m able to be that patient. He’s not just skittish—he flat-out said it’s not happening.”
Lydia laughs. “Oh man, this is awesome. I have mad skills when it comes to making you feel good about yourself and comfortable in not just your clothes, but your own skin. I might also know a few things about billionaire bad boys and how to handle them. He has no idea the clothes he is buying you will be a part of his downfall.”
***
Ivan
For the fifth time I check my watch; it is only ten minutes since the last time I checked. In the backseat o
f my car for almost two hours is not how I envisioned spending my morning. When Lydia told me to leave, I was intent on going back to the office. Except by the time I made it downstairs I was unable to give Lawrence, my driver, the order. I needed to be here when Christina came out of the building, I am unsure if it is to prevent her from going home, or to be here if she needs me.
Forcing a deep breath, I attempt to work the tension out of my neck. How much longer? When I set the appointment this morning with Lydia Holt, in addition to the verbal tongue-lashing she gave me for waking her up she had made it clear she was only giving me an hour, and she was charging me double her normal fee of a thousand dollars. I hadn’t flinched at the price. I had wondered if she was worth the aggravation. However, Elise swore the woman was indeed worth five times her fee.