Page 55 of Scarred Ruin

“Are you talking about your Russian friend?” She picked at her salad but was paying more attention to the goon closest to us.

“Yes, the man I’ve been forced to work with.”

“I thought you finally decided the project was something you wanted to do.” She took a bite of her salad, but her eyes drifted to the blond guy every few seconds.

“Honestly? I love the project. I really do. There’s such depth to what I’m doing, not simply creating a vanity project for billionaires. It’s working with Mr. Aristov that annoys the hell out of me.”

“Is he bugging you all the time?”

“No, actually he’s not.” Being it was Friday I’d been shocked he’d made it five full days without so much as a phone call or stopping in. But the goons had arrived the day before, which meant he was paying very close attention to everything I was doing.

“Then why is Miami Vice on your tail?” She laughed at the joke.

I wasn’t in the mood. Another group had been outside my house the night before. All freaking night long. “I don’t know.”

“What happened? And don’t tell me nothing.”

I forked my own food, spearing every vegetable five times before choosing a bite. Just talking about Maxsim, even in an offhanded way, made me agitated. I’d told him what had happened before had been a mistake and could never happen again.

Had I anticipated he’d listen to me? Hell, no.

Which meant my agitation was based on disappointment and that was unacceptable. “He asked me to dinner as a thank you.”

“Sounds very nice. You didn’t get along?”

“We did.” I finally took a bite, instantly uncertain I could eat.

She narrowed her eyes while studying me before shifting her attention to the soldier once again. “I get it. You got along too well, which goes against every thought of professionalism in your mind.”

“Something like that.”

A few seconds later she startled me with a squeal. “You like this guy and not only because of his ideas. You really like him.”

I snagged a bigger bite while hoping to push thoughts of him out of my mind. “He’s a rich, arrogant prick who truly believes he is the master of the universe.”

Sitting back, she took a few seconds of sucking liquid through her straw before responding. “Wow. You like him so much you can’t stand the thought of being around him.”

“What does that tell you?”

“That you finally met a man capable of holding your intellectual interest while also evoking wicked desires. You forget how well I know you.”

My best friend had me gritting my teeth. “I also can’t stand control freaks, which he is.”

“He’s rich. He’s powerful. He likely has a number of enemies and people who are hoping the project fails. He has every reason to want to be in control of every aspect of his life. Plus, didn’t you tell me he has a little girl he’s raising all by himself?”

“He does.”

“Then there you go. He’s a protective father who wants to ensure whoever he brings into his life is a solid, decent influence on his daughter.”

I pushed the salad away. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” My mind drifted to the sweet picture she’d drawn for me, which I’d promptly placed on the side of my refrigerator.

“I would make the dude go through hoops and run a full investigation of any guy I considered dating if I had a child. You can’t be too careful in this day and age.”

My bestie. The voice of reason. I didn’t dare share with her that one major reason for the barrier I’d built around my feelings was that he’d awakened something decidedly carnal within me. Yes, she’d understand, but I’d never hear the end of it. “We have a working relationship. That can’t include any romantic ties. That is final.”

“O-kay.” Her tone was singsong while her smile lingered.

I returned to my salad with a vengeance, forking bite after bite into my mouth.