“Yes, we're acquainted. How are you, Mr. Stone?” she asked.
“Surprisingly good. Like I said, I was waiting for you to get home when Ms. Tisdale introduced herself – she'd gotten her key stuck in her mailbox,” he told her.
“And can you believe it, he got it unstuck. Magic fingers on this one,” Lana Tisdale giggled. “So I'm taking him to lunch to say thank you.”
“I figured you'd gone to lunch with Vieve,” Wulf explained. Katya let out a dramatic sigh.
“I'm happy for both of you. If you'll excuse me now, I have a shower that's calling my name. Have a good time,” she said, scooching around them while she talked and then making a beeline for the elevator.
“Tocci.”
She made a face as the doors slid open, then looked over her shoulder at Wulf.
“Can't avoid me forever,” he said, still giving her that shit-eating grin.
On the elevator ride up to her floor, she ground her teeth together. Stupid blonde. Stupid Wulf. Stupid lunch. Stuck key? Ridiculous. And the “can't avoid me” sign off – she wasn't avoiding him! He's the one who ran away at the crack of dawn!
She didn't know how much more she could handle. First her break through with Liam, and then a run-in with Wulf. As she let herself into her apartment, she thought again about what she'd realized over the weekend – her little torture plan wasn't working so well. She wasn't getting back at anyone, and she was just making herself – and apparently Liam – miserable in the process. Wulf, however, was rebounding better than she would've thought. Stupid lunch date with a blonde, gorgeous, ridiculous, horri—
Katya gasped and dropped her bag, coming to a stop in the middle of her kitchen. At least, in what used to be her kitchen.
Gone were the scratched counter tops and old cupboards. The ugly sink and ancient fridge. Her thrift store table. Even the light green tile floor was nowhere in sight. All of it, just gone.
Sometime since she'd left Friday morning, her entire kitchen had been gutted and replaced. She was staring at laminate wood floors and granite counter tops, with a matching island standing in the center of it all – complete with four bar stools in front of it.
She hurried around it and came to a stop in front of a state of the art propane stove. Five burners and a huge oven, with a second oven built into the cabinets next to it. Everything was stainless steel and brand new, complete with the tags and protective film still on them.
How had this happened!? She'd only been gone three days! She peered into the new sink – a large, farmhouse style in a brushed satin finish. Deep enough to hold her huge cooking pots, with a long necked faucet that was perfect for filling those pots.
She was turning a circle, taking it all in, still shocked. She'd asked for a new oven – not an entirely new kitchen. This was amazing. How had it gotten done so fast? Was this Liam's doing, more apologies for his behavior?
When she'd turned back to the stove, she saw something she'd missed during her first pass through. A folded card was propped up at the back of the appliance, resting against a subway tile back splash. She plucked it off the counter, noticing that there was now recessed lighting built into the bottom of her cupboards, and opened the card.
You can say thank you in the form of something short and lacy. I expect dinner at six o'clock promptly.
? W
Red. So much red, clouding her vision. A nuclear bomb of anger went off in the back of her skull, and the note got crumpled in her fist. First she had to witness him flirting with some random chick, then rubbing the whole lunch date in her face, and now she finds out he was trying to buy her forgiveness and/or sexual compliance via a new kitchen. What, he was going to go bang some blonde chick during lunch, then have Katya for seconds?
I am NOT seconds.
She was storming off the elevator into the lobby before she even realized she was moving. She took out her phone and texted Liam, hoping he'd answer right away. But by the time she'd reached his apartment, he still hadn't answered. She groaned and knocked once on his door, then burst through it. He was in the kitchen, hidden behind his open fridge door.
“We need to talk!” she snapped, letting the door slam shut behind her.
“Huh?” he called back, his voice muffled.
“I think we should have sex, right now,” she said, pacing back and forth by his couch. He finally stood upright, letting the fridge fall shut.
“I'm sorry … what?”
He sounded so caught off guard, his voice was even different. She glanced at him, noticing that he was only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, then she kept pacing.
“Sex. I know I said no sex, but what the hell, it's been a long time, and I'm really pissed off, and everything is fucked up anyway,” she growled, pounding her fist into her palm. There was a pause as she made her way to the front windows, then she heard footsteps behind her.
“You want to have sex with me, like right this minute,” he double checked. She looked over her shoulder, then went back to the view.
“Yup. You showered really fast – it's only been like five or ten minutes,” she commented, staring down at the street. A white Mercedes was parked at the curb in front of her building. She glared down at it.
“What can I say, I'm fast. So are we doing this, or what?”
He still sounded strange, so she turned to face him. She frowned as she looked up at him. He was standing at the other end of the long couch, smiling back at her. Something seemed off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
“No,” she sighed. “I'm just … I got my feathers ruffled. Did you know he was going to do that?”
“Who?”
“Wulf?”
“What wolf?”
“Uh, that asshole you hate – that Wulf,” she repeated herself. He thought for a second, then his eyes got wide.
“Ooohhh, yeah. Yeah, that Wulf. Okay. Yeah. Asshole. No. No! What did he do now!?” he exclaimed. She shook her head.
“What's wrong with you? Have you been drinking?” she checked. He shrugged.
“Maybe a little.”
“Jesus, Liam, it's ten in the morning.”
“Hey, it's six at night in London,” he countered, smiling big at her. “So about that sex. Maybe we can just try it, for old times sake, and you can tell me -”
Before he could finish, though, he was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. There was a rustling sound as grocery bags were kicked through it.
“Sorry, I decided to stop down at the corner store. That dickbag is always short changing me, I had to fight to get my five bucks back.”
Liam was striding into the apartment, scooting bags with his feet, his arms full of other bags.
Katya's jaw dropped open and she stared at him for a second. Then stared at the Liam that was standing in front of her. Then back at the other Liam. Her brain short circuited.
Why is it someone can say they have a twin, and you know what an identical twin is, yet it's still shocking when you meet them.