Page 2 of Knocked Up By the Russian

Ivan nodded, already taking the things Lev had given him. "I'm heading home. Call me if you need anything."

***

He ended up spending his whole Sunday going through the documents, staying up later than he normally would, and even oversleeping past his alarm on Monday morning. By the time he got to the club, it was midday, and everyone already seemed to be fully immersed in their work. It was a different type of chaos than Ivan normally found himself involved in, but he wasn't going to complain. Different was good.

Ignoring the bustling builders shouting at each other, Ivan walked through the wide doors of the unfinished club and found himself looking around in quiet contemplation. Besides the noisy builders with their loud tools and occasional shouts, there wasn't much that had been done. However, Lev had already explained this to him, and so Ivan sidestepped the wooden planks laid out on the floor and walked around the unbuilt bar to reach the stairs leading to the office upstairs.

Men sidestepped him, eyeing the Italian suit he wore with a mixture of wariness and confusion, but they weren’t his concern. Amy Spencer was. The woman standing near the one-sided glass windows caught his interest as he entered the room. They’d met before, though they’d never shared more than a few words. She was always polite. He didn’t know much more about her other than that.

Amy held a phone to her ear as she gazed at the chaos below, and while her voice was laced with irritation, it didn't take Ivan long to recognize she was talking to the Bratva's favorite HR. "No. I'm looking for girls with experience in catering, Maya. Nothing less than two years, and three of them need to have bartending certificates... You know how it is. Zia wants this place to be the most popular one yet."

Ivan felt a flicker of amusement as she continued her conversation, barely acknowledging him beyond a quick glance when he plucked a set of cards off her desk. There were two desks in the office, on opposite sides of the room, and it was already clear which Amy had chosen because her tabletop was as chaotic as the space outside the office. Between the papers and pens was a laptop, the screen switched on but unclear from his vantage point.

His gaze turned back to her, and he bit back a smile when something Maya had to say made her growl angrily. Like a little bear, he thought in amusement. Though she didn’t look anything of the sort, her build was petite. Curvy.

"No, no,no. Maya, you're not giving me much to work with here. I sent a list.I only want people with those qualifications," she emphasized, running her slender fingers through her hair as she listened to Maya.

It took another ten minutes before she ended the call and turned to face Ivan, her face a mask of professionalism. "Mr. Nikolai," Amy greeted, holding out her hand. "Zia informed me that you'll be taking over for her and Lev. I've already created a spreadsheet to advise you on the duties that I'm currently responsible for and how I can help if you need me to. You'll find it in your inbox when you're ready."

"Amy," he responded wryly, reaching to take her hand. It was so much smaller than his, and her nails were bitten to the quick. Though he wasn't sure why he noticed that. "I see you've already settled in."

"That's right," she replied, eyeing him pointedly. To move, he realized belatedly, but Ivan felt comfortable where he was and looked back at her innocently.

"I'm sorry, did you want this desk?" she smiled, but it was thin. Frustrated. With him?Not likely, he thought, but he knew better than to ignore his instincts.

"No," he answered. "I'm happy with the other one."

"Perfect," she said, still staring at him, and he couldn't help but notice how green her eyes were as she glanced between him and the desk he was leaning on. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"No?" he replied, an eyebrow raised in query. He was just about to ask her if she'd be able to give him an update on how things were going when his phone started to ring.

"Excuse me," he murmured as he pulled it from his pants pocket and pressed answer. "Checking on me already, brother?"

"You can't fault me, Ivan. I wasn't sure if you were actually serious or not about this," Lev replied as Ivan moved away from the desk and toward his own.

Funny enough, as he moved away, Amy finally sat down at her table, and he noticed her watching him from beneath those thick lashes of hers. She caught him looking, and her lips thinned as she ducked her head to study the papers in front of her.

Interesting, he thought as he continued his conversation with his brother. As soon as they were done, he turned to her desk to finish questioning her but found she'd already disappeared.

Deciding to read through his emails until she came back, Ivan opened his laptop with a thoughtful expression on his face. His brow furrowed when he reached the email addressed to him from Amy, and he closed his laptop with a snap to go looking for her.

***

3 weeks later

"All due respect, sir," Amy mentioned, her voice bordering on a bite—or the closest thing to one considering how many respectful disagreements they'd had over the past three weeks. "But I can handle this myself."

"I'm sure you can," Ivan responded dryly as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. In fact, he was more than sure she'd be able to handle anything because she was just too damn stubborn not to. "But I'm going to have to insist that I'll be taking over the alcohol shipments."

Amy gritted her teeth before her irritated expression calmed to professional again. "Do you have any complaints with my current work,sir?"

Ivan wasn't sure why he and Amy kept getting into these disputes—no. Scratch that. He was very sure why they kept getting into these disputes, and it had everything to do with that list she was adamant that he followed. The list that basically proclaimed his only job in the club was to sit and watch while she did everything. Handling the contractors who weren't sticking to their deal, the design of the club, the marketing... everything. So, yes. He was starting to feel frustrated with Amy. Especially with the latest problem.

"Please call me Ivan," he repeated tirelessly for the hundredth time that day. "And no, you know there aren't any problems with your work." There were never any problems with her work.

"Then I don't understand,sir," she replied sweet enough to make his eye twitch.I'm sure you don't, Ivan thought as he met her stare dead on. He didn't know how to reply to her latest remark, but he’d be damned if he'd allowed her to win another of these disputes.

"It'sbusiness," he lied pointedly, knowing she knew enough about the Bratva after the incident that happened a few months ago.

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