Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I swallow hard and keep walking.
15
KATYA
Sunlight pours through the boutique’s wide front windows, laying golden streaks across the polished hardwood and over racks of designer clothes I have zero intention of buying. Evie lifts a strappy red dress in front of the mirror, tilts her head, grimaces, and then shoves it back onto the rack.
“Okay, so red is a no,” she mutters. “Unless I’m going for murder-at-midnight chic.”
I laugh, looping my arm through hers.
“You could definitely pull it off.”
“I’d rather not terrify the guy before I get him in the sack.”
She tosses a wink over her shoulder and drifts to the next display, humming softly under her breath.
It’s been three weeks since I saw her at the wedding, and for once we’re both free this afternoon. She suggested retail therapy followed by coffee, two things I rarely pass up, especially now that life has settled into a strange kind of calm.
Evie looks exactly the same, her soft curls bouncing with every step, bracelets chiming, eyes brimming with light and mischief, but now she carries the unmistakable glow of a woman newly in love.
“So,” I say, trailing her toward a table of designer handbags, “are you going to tell me more about this mystery guy, or do I have to bribe the details out of you with overpriced coffee?”
Evie bites back a smile. “I was holding out for the coffee,” she says. I nudge her with my hip. “Okay, fine. His name’s Nolan. We met online.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re online dating again?” I ask, turning up my nose. “I thought you swore it off after that one guy with the lizard collection.”
“That was one time, and I’ve grown as a person,” she says primly. “Besides, Nolan has normal hobbies. He reads. He’s into architecture. He actually asked about my sculpture work instead of droning on about himself for an hour.”
I giggle. “You might have found the last decent man in New York City. Do you like him?”
She offers a nonchalant shrug that’s anything but convincing. “He’s nice.”
“You’re glowing,” I tease.
“I am not!” she argues, but she can barely contain her luminous smile.
“You are,” I say, nudging her. “You’re absolutely smitten and you don’t want to admit it yet.”
She groans and snatches a black clutch as if it’s a lifeline. “Fine. Maybe I am. But I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. I’m just taking it one date at a time. After all, he could still turn out to be an axe murderer who’s simply very good at hiding it.”
“That’s fair,” I concede, eyeing a dark-blue shoulder bag.
“And what about you, Mrs. Kozlova?” she asks, turning the full force of her grin on me. “How’s married life treating you?”
I pause, fingers trailing over the smooth fabric of the bag.
It’s such a simple question. The answer, however, is anything but. Evie has been there from the beginning, helping me hatch every scheme, so admitting I’m actually happy feels strangely vulnerable.
“It’s good,” I say slowly. “Surprisingly good.”
Evie’s brows shoot up. “Wait,” she says, lifting her hands as if to steady herself. “That didn’t sound like someone who’s still plotting her escape.”
“I’m not,” I admit.
“You were ready to blow the place up.”
“I was. But now…” I exhale. “I don’t know. I’m oddly at peace with it.”
Evie leans against the wall, folding her arms while she studies me. “He’s treating you all right?”
I smile before I can stop it. “Better than all right,” I gush. “He listens. He respects me. He doesn’t flinch when I push back. And he sees me, not just as my father’s daughter or some political pawn. He sees me for me, and he likes who I am.”
She whistles low. “That sounds dangerously close to domestic bliss.”
“Don’t jinx it.” I laugh.
“So,” she says, tilting her head, “you’re not still planning to go back and end the whole thing?”
I shake my head. “No,” I admit. “I think I’m developing feelings for him.”
Evie blinks at me in surprise. “Feelings? The kind with a capital F?”
“I didn’t think it was possible,” I say, my voice quieter now. “Not after how it all started. Not with everything I told myself about him. I just assumed he couldn’t be a good guy if he was agreeing to marry me almost sight unseen.”
“And now?”
I shrug slightly, trying to buy myself some time to consider my words carefully. “Now he’s more than I ever expected. And I feel more than I ever thought was possible.”
A hush settles between us. Overhead, soft music hums, and distant laughter drifts from deeper in the store, the only sounds filling the space.
Evie eventually nudges my arm. “You know what I think?”
“Hmm?”
“I think you’re finally letting yourself be happy.”
I smile to myself, a small, private thing. “Maybe you’re right.”
“And maybe it’s about damn time,” she sing-songs. “Seriously, you’re due for happiness, especially with a man. And I’m glad to hear that he’s treating you well. Otherwise, I’d have to come over there and cut his balls off.”