“Are we done here? I have things to do today that don't involve dealing with you,” she snapped. He stepped closer to her.
“You might be even more fun now than you were before.”
“That's not funny, and if you can't realize that, then there is literally no hope for you.”
“Ah, implying there is hope.”
“Shut up.”
“Feisty. I love it.”
“I talked to Vieve,” she blurted out. That finally stopped him.
“Oh, really,” was all he said.
“Yup. Went to your place, had a cup of coffee with her,” she said. That seemed to actually surprise him.
“You were in my home?” he checked.
“Yes. Apparently, I could've been spending lots of time there. Very generous of you to give me complete access,” she said. He didn't react, though she noticed the tendon in the side of his neck was taut and straining.
“Yes, well, I've met you. I knew if you ever showed up, it would be a huge hassle with the front desk calling my office and you calling my cell phone and me having to drive across town. Was just easier that way.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“And how was the coffee? I have it imported.”
Katya stared at the tight tendon for a moment longer. He was so good at putting on a false front, she knew. Looking calm and collected. After all, this was a man who ate million dollar real estate deals before breakfast.
But it was all fake. He was nervous. Deep down, she could tell. Being forceful was just his way of barreling through a problem he didn't actually want to deal with – he could just strong arm her into doing what he wanted. No unnecessary awkwardness. That was Wulf's M.O.
Yeah, well, my M.O. is to make him feel as awkward as humanly possible.
“I can't go to breakfast with you,” she stated, brushing past him and heading down the hallway. He didn't hesitate to follow behind her.
“No shit, it's afternoon – it's too late for brunch, even. But that Brazilian food cart is open for lunches now, we're going -” he started, but she waved her hand over her shoulder as she moved into her bedroom.
“I can't, I'm busy this afternoon. I have to go shopping for a new stove – don't worry, I'll have the bill sent to you,” she joked, turning around and standing in the doorway to her room. He glared down at her.
“Don't be ridiculous. I'll talk to maintenance, we can get a new stove in by the end of the week,” he assured her.
“Whatever. I have other plans.”
“Tocci, I'm not -”
“But how about dinner?” she offered.
That seemed to shock him. He stood still for moment, his eyes wandering over her face. Obviously trying to figure out if she was lying. She offered him a big smile, and that just seemed to throw him even more off guard. He finally narrowed his eyes.
“If I make reservations, you'll be downstairs on time?” he checked.
“No,” she shook her head. “But I can meet you there.”
“Bullshit. You'll stand me up, and I'm not wasting my time, sitting around like an asshole waiting for you,” he said.
“I won't, I promise. I have … a client I'm dealing with this afternoon. I don't know how long it will take,” she told him.
“What about your dinner date with your darling handyman?” he asked. She shrugged.
“I'll figure something out, don't worry about it. I'll have dinner with you.”
“You promise?” he checked, still glaring down at her. She nodded and ran her fingers across her chest in an X motion.
“Cross my heart.”
“Fine. But don't fuck with me, Tocci. You won't like it if I have to come and find you. We have a lot to discuss,” he informed her. She nodded.
“I'm sure we do. What's the dress code?” she asked. Wulf was a 3-Michelin-stars kind of restaurant goer when it came to dinner dates.
“A dress,” he informed her, and then his gaze wandered over her shoulder. She had some clothes laying around on the floor, littered about on the bed. She was gearing up to do laundry. “If you'd like to try on some options, I'd be more than happy to sit and help.”
Katya laughed and slid her hands up either side of the door frame. Wulf followed the motion with his eyes, which grew wide when she leaned towards him.
“Mmmm, that would be fun, wouldn't it?” she chuckled.
“Possibly.”
“And it's been a very long time since you've been in my bedroom,” she reminded him. He nodded.
“It has.”
“And we never got to have any real fun in here, did we?” she sighed, glancing back at her bed.
“No. No, we did not.”
“It must make you wonder, though,” she said, dropping her hands and stepping back into the room.
“Wonder what?”
“What kind of fun Liam and I used to have in here.”
There was a split second where she got to see equal parts anger and shock ripple across his features.
Then she slammed the door in his face.
11
Had she ever taken the time to think about it, Katya would've assumed she'd make a piss poor evil mastermind. She wasn't malicious by nature, and had a tendency to think the best of most everyone she met.
Yet she was finding it surprisingly easy to slip into the role of evil genius, and even more shocking, she enjoyed it. It was a weird sensation, sort of like waiting to open presents on Christmas, or organizing a surprise party.
No amount of huffing and puffing from Wulf had blown her door down, so eventually he'd stormed off – after telling her the name of the restaurant she would be meeting him at, of course.
As soon as he was gone, she finished doing her laundry. Then made a couple phone calls – she wasn't a complete liar, she did go over some design issues with a client. Then she scoured her closet for the perfect outfit. One of her prized possessions, a dress she had bought a month ago and been waiting for the perfect moment to wear for Wulf, before shit had hit the fan.
It was a Herve Leger dress. Usually Katya favored light materials and loose fits. Wispy designs with a fairy-like quality. But something about this dress had called to her. Even in the store, its fit had been amazing, and she'd since had it tailored to fit perfectly. It was done in patches of black and beige fabric, all molding to her body from her bust to over her hips before it flared out in a short skirt. There were no straps, which just accented how well the garment presented her breasts.
She felt like an adult in the dress. Very powerful, and very sexy. She matched it with a pair of sky high stilettos, then worked some magic on her thick hair, coaxing it into an artfully mussy pony tail. A couple accessories and a lot of makeup later, she finally headed downstairs.
She smiled as she walked across the lobby. Liam was standing by the exit, doing something on his phone and not paying attention. He was wearing an untucked dress shirt and a clean pair of fitted jeans – dressed up for him.
“Hi! C'mon, I'm running late,” she said, walking right past him and out the door.
“Sorry, I didn't think you'd want me coming up there and grabbing you, so I … holy shit, what are you wearing?” he asked as he chased after her.