Page 61 of Sinful Blaze

Like humiliating one of their best clients. And burning his painting. In front of everyone.

And then fucking the art buyer in a storage closet. On the premises.

Come to think of it, it’s a miracle I’m still employed.

“No regrets,” I whisper to my daughter, who flutters inside her warm cocoon inside me. My stomach rumbles, but I have to press on. “I’ll grab a snack later.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzes once. I glance at the screen and see it’s a text from Pasha.

PASHA: Lunch?

Is he asking me out? Or asking if I have plans? Or just looking for a definition of the word? The man is not an eloquent texter, that’s for sure.

DAPHNE: Can’t. Working through.

I tuck my phone inside the desk drawer so he won’t distract me. But when I return to the calendar on my screen, the text alert pops up in front of the browser.

PASHA: You need to eat.

I sigh. I know he’s concerned, but I’m not a child. I can take care of myself just fine.

DAPHNE: I will eat, I just have to wait until later. Forgot to pack a lunch anyway.

PASHA: I’ll order something for you. What do you want?

DAPHNE: I want to get back to work. Boss isn’t happy. Sorry.

Pasha doesn’t respond after that. I click out of the message window on my desktop and try my best to focus on the calendar, shoving aside the gnawing hunger.

Before the pregnancy, I could power through eight hours on a smoothie or ice cream cone and daydreams of dinner. Now? My little spaghetti squash doesn’t know the difference between a good meal and a good paycheck. She wants food, and she wants it now.

She’ll just have to wait.

Half an hour later, I’ve managed to catch up on the morning’s work. A voice at the door catches my attention.

“Hello!”

I look up from the screen, then do a double-take. “Sofiya?”

“And Mak!” He pokes his head through the door and nudges her through. “We’re here to kidnap you.”

Sofiya rolls her eyes and shoves him aside. It’s amazing how much Pasha’s siblings resemble him. But they each have their own kind of je ne sais quoi, too. With Mak, it’s the playfulness, the puppy dog aura, something that grumpy ass Pasha is sorely lacking. For Sofiya, there’s a way her eyes sparkle constantly that I wish Pasha would allow in his own for more than two seconds at a time.

“Have you eaten yet?” She sidles up to my desk and rests her hip against it. “We were thinking about taking you out for a bit. Get to know each other more.”

My heart squeezes the same time my stomach—and my baby—flip. “I’m so sorry, guys. I can’t. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”

Sofiya frowns and glances at my computer. “You sure? We’ll bring you right back.”

“I know. It’s just…” I sigh and rest my brow against my hand. “It’s the Twee—I mean, it’s my bosses. My car broke down this morning, and Pasha took me in, but I was late, and then my father called and they caught me talking to him, and all this after ‘The Incident’…”

I know I’m drastically oversharing with people I hardly know. But the stress, the hunger, makes all of it come out in a groan. “Sorry,” I add.

Mak seems unbothered. He’s texting away on his phone, while Sofi’s frown shifts into concern and she touches my hand. “Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah. Fantastic. Just trying to keep my job.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mak flashes me another smile as he slides his phone back into his pocket. “So, where do we want to go?”

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