Page 88 of Sweet Animosity

If it was all over, then there truly was no reason for any more interactions with Var.

I mean, I was set on that this morning, but part of me knew he would not let the issue with the other Russian man rest.

Chances were the Bond villain dude had already reached out to Var and explained himself.

So it was over.

It was all over.

Like really over.

Huh…

Barb snapped her fingers. “Earth to Vivian. Did you want to come with us tonight?”

I blinked before skirting around the island and giving them both a kiss on the cheek. “You know what? That sounds lovely. How about we go in a few hours for an early dinner before it gets too crowded? Just knock on my door when you’re ready.”

In the meantime, I needed time to process and think.

Mainly, I needed time to drink copious amounts of wine and feel guilty about all the dirty sex I had with Var while wearing some of the clothes I’d pretty much stolen from him.

Would he even care?

Probably not. The man seemed to have more money than God.

Still.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he would be relieved or angry when he got home tonight and found out I wasn’t there. It would probably be for the best if I wasn’t in my apartment either.

Just in case…

CHAPTER 31

VIVIAN

After saying goodbye to Barb and Millie, I walked down the hall to my apartment. I’d only opened the door wide enough to pull the two Louis Vuitton trunks inside before closing it and heading over to their place to show off my outfit.

As I entered the apartment now, I was struck by how cold and lonely it felt.

It was strange to be returning to my life after all that had happened.

It was as if my apartment shouldn’t look the same, but of course it did.

It just felt like everything should look different, but didn’t.

It was like Christmas vacation at home after my first semester in college. Everything was the same, but felt so different. Smaller, somehow. Less cozy and familiar.

Leaving the trunks in the hallway, I went into my bedroom and stripped out of my Chanel dress and put on a pair of leggings and one of my oversized men’s shirts that I liked to paint in.

Later, I would go through the trunks and find something fabulous to wear out to dinner.

Why not?

I might as well celebrate.

The drama was over. While not getting my fifty grand, I’d at least gotten some killer outfits with matching purses out of the entire ordeal.

And some amazing orgasms.

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