My apartment is deafeningly quiet. There's too much room in the space around me for my thoughts, and not enough space for them in my head. I'm wired and shaky, so I decide to start the unraveling process with a cup of coffee.
The brew is hot and familiar, and comforting in that sense. But while it's a start, I still feel strangely isolated here. Like his presence fulfilled some part of me I never knew I lacked.
Which is ridiculous, I tell myself firmly.
But still. It would be nice to have some company.
I unlock my phone, intending to call Lissa. I even make it to her profile, my finger hovering above the green button. But when I look again, the photo above my thumb has dark hair and high cheekbones, and the kind of brown eyes a girl can get lost in.
This is...so not healthy. But in for a penny and all that.
A quick google search produces thousands of results, all bearing the same achingly beautiful face of Dimitri Belikov. Sometimes he's with other famous people, sometimes pictured next to gorgeous women that make my chest hurt. But most of the photos are just of him, as though a thousand cameras find him just as alluring as I do.
Serious, sexy, smiling, smouldering. The range of poses and expressions are fascinating. He's smoking in this one, long hair slicked back, wearing a leather jacket on a set that looks like a grungy alley. He's the picture of the quintessential bad boy. And yet something isn't quite right; I don't get that same feeling as I did looking up at him in the kitchen. So I keep scrolling.
Pictures of him posed, of him performing. Mouth wide, singing lyrics that his heart isn't in. I see him pensive and reserved in some headshots from an interview, stoic and staged in an ad campaign for a denim brand. In all of these results I see him play at laughter that doesn't quite touch his eyes. I see him fake relaxation that doesn't release the tension in his shoulders. I see his jaw clench back his discomfort in selfies with fans. And after even going so far as to load the second page of images, I realise that I won't find what I'm looking for in any of these pictures. Because I didn't snap a picture of his face as he studied me at the restaurant. Or when he smiled at something I said with those adorable pointy teeth. I didn't think to grab my phone when he was next to me in the kitchen, or to take a photo of him holding out the loaf of homemade bread.
Out of all these pages of results on the internet, I can't seem to find the man who stubbornly won't leave my thoughts.
A text pops up on the screen. It's from Lissa.
Are you awake?
Steered back on track by her message, I decide it's the universe telling me to call her after all. She picks up on the third ring.
"Hey Liss," I say.
"Rose."
Her voice sounds strange, full of something she's trying to suppress. It instantly has my attention.
"Liss? What's wrong? What's happened?"
I wait a beat that lasts far longer than it should before she replies.
"I fucked up. That's what happened."
Uh oh. Lissa doesn't swear unless it's a special occasion. This can't be good.
"I kissed him," she admits in a strangled voice before I can ask again.
Somehow, I think I know who she means, but I wait for her to clarify.
"Rose, I kissed Christian."
Part of me wants to laugh at the urgency in her tone, because the way things have been going between them, I'd pretty much expected this. But given my own inner turmoil, I'm all too sensible of the toll it can take on your emotions. So I don't have to fake the sympathy in my tone as I reply.
"It's okay, Liss. I'm sure it's not that bad. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"Oh God," she groans. "I'm such an idiot. He'll probably haul me in front of HR, and I absolutely deserve it."
"Hey, hang on," I interject. "I doubt that's going to be necessary. He was over at your house again?"
"Yes," she replies. "We were still working on organising those release forms. He brought another bottle of wine, because his neighbour doesn't drink and he keeps giving them to Christian."
I make a sceptical noise, but keep my comments to myself.
"It was getting late, we'd just finished the bottle. He couldn't drive home and I wasn't thinking straight."
Once again, I reserve the thought that he probably orchestrated this to the safety of my own head.
"That doesn't sound bad," I soothe. "Sounds like you were a little tipsy."
"Try a lot. And he was there, looking so good. And he's been amazing Rose! So helpful and supportive, and he has the same passion for helping people that I do! A lot of people write him off because he can come across as prickly and sarcastic when you first meet him. But he's amazing."
Well that sounds like motivation to kiss someone to me, but there's a chance she doesn't realise it yet.
"Did he kiss you back?" I ask.
"Well...yeah," she admits. "But it's probably because I'm his boss and he didn't want to offend me."
I sigh. "Liss have you spoken to him about it?"
"Of course not!" she exclaims. "How do I even bring that up?"
"How about 'hey we need to talk about last night'?"
She responds with a sound like she's screamed into a pillow. Which, given the hour, is probably the case.
"Hey," I say soothingly. "I know it's scary. But honestly to me it sounds like he likes you too. And I know firsthand what it does to you when everyone is gossiping that you're sleeping with your boss, so he's kind of sticking his neck out here."
A noise of protest sounds from the other end of the line.
"No, Lissa, I'm serious. You honestly think he kept bringing wine to your house because people gave it to him?"
"It could happen!"
"Yeah but the more likely explanation is that he's into you too," I respond. "But Liss, if he wasn't your employee. What would you want?"
She's quiet as she thinks about it; I can almost hear the gears turning. And in her silence, I consider my own situation and what my own answer to that question would be. It doesn't take much thought at all to find a resolute response.
"I'd want to date him," she replies softly.
I smile. "Sure sounds like it to me, considering how well I know you."
"But Rose it's not that simple!"
"I know," I sigh. "It never is. But you know what you want, and now you need to talk to him and figure it out."
She hums a disgruntled sound of agreement, which makes me laugh.
"Seriously," she says, "When did you get so wise?"
Since I found myself in a similar situation, I answer internally. Except Lissa's can have a happy ending.
"Since I know you and I want you to be happy," I laugh instead.
"Unless..." she muses. "How was the date with Mason?"
Her tone is teasing and lighthearted. I really don't want to ruin her mood with this, but honestly maybe it will be good to work through it with someone who will always be in my corner.
So I unload the whole woeful tale of Mason, but keep the details on Dimitri to a minimum. I just tell her we spoke during dinner, and I left his apartment after he'd made sure I was okay after the incident with the waitress. Luckily Lissa is way too busy abusing Mason to notice my vague details on the Dimitri front.
"...sulky little son-of-a-bitch fuckboy!" she finishes a pretty impressive three minute tirade littered with expletives. At this point, her reaction has made me laugh about four times, and really helps me feel a lot better about the whole situation. But her next words bring me back down to earth.
"What are you going to do?"
I sigh. "I really don't know Liss. He's tanked my chances of getting another job in this city, you know this industry runs on reputation."
"I'm not talking about your job, Rose. What are you going to do to Mason?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?!"
"No Liss. I can't do anything to him without it looking like he's right."
She pauses to think about that, and I brace myself.
"Okay," she says finally. She sounds a lot more normal. "I'll just fly down and kick his ass for you then."
I laugh. "You know you can't do that. Really Liss, I figure the best way to go forward is to just not react. I still have to work with him at least once more. I'm just going to do good work and be professional. That will make him look like the jackass he is."
"That sounds great." I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. "In the meantime I'll keep my fingers crossed for Mason to get what's coming to him."
The conversation doesn't last much longer, but it's already late when I hang up. There are still two days to prepare myself and my next move, and then it will be Dimitri's next show.
But my mind isn't on that fiasco when I finally drift off to sleep. No, I'm thinking of a gorgeous pair of brown eyes, and the moment I was sure he was going to kiss me.
OoOoOoO
I wake up earlier than I meant to, and I decide to take another run in an attempt to clear my head.
But when my feet hit the pavement in the fresh morning air, it proves impossible for me to outrun my thoughts. They swirl around me in an inescapable cloud. Every person I see in a black jacket could be Dimitri, every note I hear could be the beginning of one of his songs. When I pass the bakery, the smell of fresh bread fills me with such longing that I decide to call it quits at only two miles and head back home for a consolidation prize coffee.
As I approach my building, I notice a shiny red sports car parked out front. While it's a little odd, my mind is mostly on the promise of coffee and the ever present fixation of Dimitri. Which is why I don't notice at first when the driver gets out and heads in my direction. But she sure gets my attention when she calls my name in that pleasantly smoky voice.
"Rose, hi. I was wondering if there's somewhere we can talk," Tasha asks. "Can I buy you a coffee?"
She keeps her tone friendly, but I can see the effort involved at the edges of her voice.
Briefly, I run through my options in my mind.
"Sure," I reply carefully. "There's a cafe across the street."
She smiles. "Lead the way."
I'm not an idiot. Obviously she has some ulterior motive here. But I have time and I really want a coffee, so it will probably be easier just to hear what she has to say. It may even be enough to get a certain client of hers out my head for a while.
I order a large cappuccino, and try to ignore the awkwardness. I'm admittedly a little curious, but I figure she'll take the time to exchange pleasantries and butter me up first. I should have known better. She makes small talk until we sit down with our coffees, but doesn't seem to be one to beat around the bush.
"Listen Rose," she says, curling her hands around the mug in front of her. "I'm going to get straight to the point. As Dimitri's manager, I need to make sure that he's focused on building his career. And at the moment, he seems to be distracted. I'm sure you know the reason."
Well, there goes that hope of a distraction from Dimitri. I sigh and take a large gulp of my coffee. Something tells me I'm going to need to finish it stat.
Tasha leans in, pitching her voice lower. "After that last stunt he pulled, his fans are going crazy. He needs to take advantage of the momentum before it's gone, but he's been dragging his feet every time I try to convince him to go on tour."
"That certainly sounds like a problem," I reply carefully, "But I don't see why you're sharing it with me."
She throws me a calculating look as I take another mouthful of my cappuccino.
"Cute," she says. "But I'm not buying it for a second. What's it going to take for you to disappear, huh? This isn't my first rodeo. Name your price."
I blink, stunned. "You want to buy me off? To do what?"
Her lip twitches, and her response is almost a growl. "I'll give you whatever you want if you get out of his life."
Well fuck. I came here for a free coffee and the chance at a distraction. I look down at my half finished cup and decide it's not worth it. I grab my bag, whipping out a ten dollar bill, which I put on the table in front of her.
"For the record, I don't want a single thing from you. Not even this coffee."
She glares at me, unflinching.
"And I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not even in his life. Have a great day."
As I pass through the doors, anger courses through me at the fucking audacity of that woman. And since I'm now livid and still in my running gear, I decide that maybe I should finish out another few miles after all.
If only I could also outrun the problems that keep finding me.
Author's Note
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to let me know what you thought, please leave a review. It's always great to read your responses, they never fail to make my day. Also, if you'd like to follow and favourite in order to keep in the loop with when I post, please do.
I know I'm a little late today, it's been an intense time at work. But I couldn't sleep without posting an update, so I hope you enjoyed it!
The VA universe and the characters therein are the sole intellectual property of Richelle Mead.
