Page 53 of Claimed By Desire

“Thank you,” I say at the door. “But it’s okay. I won’t bother you again.”

She leans against the counter. “My name’s Patricia. I’m open almost every day except Mondays, because that’s when I play pickleball.”

“Uh, okay.” I try to imagine this lady doing anything physical and have a hard time, but I guess that explains the track suit. “Thank you.”

“Honestly dear, come back and play any time. That piano’s due for a tuning one of these days. Maybe you’ll give me incentive to get on it.”

“Please, no, don’t do that for me, I just?—“

She laughs and waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for coming in.”

I smile awkwardly, turn away, and hurry back out onto the street. Once I’m headed to the apartment, I check my phone.

Two hours. I was gone for two hours. And I have about ten dozen missed calls from Alex.

I shoot him a text to let him know that I’m fine, and even though I feel like I was taking advantage of that woman back there, the weight on my chest is lighter than it’s been since my life blew up.

Chapter 20

Alexander

The truck idles across the street from an Italian restaurant. It’s a little past nine at night and I’m ready to get back home, but we have a job to do.

Lev stares out the front window and says nothing. It’s been like this for the past week. We go on jobs together, start haunting Italian spots, but he refuses to say a fucking word beyond what’s necessary.

Honestly, I can’t blame him. I get that he’s angry. I’d be pissed in his position too, but at this point it’s getting a little absurd.

I have a Rolex watch in my lap. It’s one of the pieces from the fire. I go over it with a soft cloth and a cleaning solution, doing my best to get the smoke damage off the gold and the diamonds. I’m not sure if the movement can be salvaged, but if I can at least get the case cleaned up then it’ll have some resale value.

“Mother fucker better come out soon,” Lev mutters to himself.

“He’ll come. We got good info.”

“You got info. I’m not sure if it’s good.” He glances at me. “You’re still working on those watches?”

“I’m an optimist at heart.”

He grunts and shakes his head. “Waste of fucking time.”

“Tell that to your dad.”

“He doesn’t give a shit how many Rolexes you save, you realize that? He’s always going to hate you.”

I nod to myself, still working on the watch. “I figured.”

“Then why bother?” Lev glances at me, sounding more curious than angry.

“Because of Natalya.” His eyebrows raise and I keep going. “I don’t think your father’s ever going to forgive me, but he might forgive his daughter. And he might want to have his grandson in his life. If I can do some small things to maybe ease that transition a little bit, then I’ll do it. So I’m cleaning watches as a show of good faith for the day your father wants to come around again.”

Lev doesn’t reply right away. He’s still watching me and I keep on cleaning, because it’s work, and work’s important. My hands are busy and my mind’s at ease, or at least that’s how I think of it anyway.

“You’re such a prick sometimes,” Lev says, but he sounds like his old self for the first time since everything happens. There’s a slight smile on his face. “Seriously, I get why people find you annoying. All that perfect shit.”

“I’m far from perfect.”

“Yeah, no shit.” His smile fades. “I’m well aware.” He turns back to the restaurant.

“You should call her back, you know.”

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