Page 40 of My Wild Horse King

“I didn’t forget anything, but you sure did.” His smirk’s very, very self-satisfied. “You know, I was worried about this whole last-minute IPO. It’s veryHail Maryof you. Coming in with the public offeringjustbefore Grandfather’s party.” He shakes his head. “Sneaky. I didn’t realize you had it in you.” He steps closer, his grin deepening. “But then you botch Black Rock, which Grandfather practically gift-wrapped, and today you put on the worst presentation I’ve ever seen with Ameritrade.” He snorts. “What’s wrong? I’m honestly worried about you.”

I step closer and jab a finger against his breastbone. “You’ve been worried about me for ten years. You should be more worried about your own resume. Whereas you barely graduated from Temple University, and you waltzed into a ready-made job at Grandfather’s company, I earned my way.”

“I’d hardly call a mediocre online gambling start-up ‘earning your way,’ and I wasn’t sure what you were even doing at first, with a gambling company.” He sighs. “But then I remembered that you do what you know, and you’ve known about gambling your whole life, haven’t you?”

“I’m not sure we’ve met.” Kristiana steps closer, having ducked into the room through the door our sweet cousin left open. “It seems like we may be related.”

“I doubt it.” Prescott arches one dark eyebrow.

“Kristiana Liepa.” Kris holds out her hand. “I think, unfortunately, that we’re cousins.”

Prescott steps back as if someone from the street’s trying to sell him knock-off Oakleys. “How lovely. More of my Latvian relations.”

“Your father was nearly as nasty as you are,” Kris says. “Mom told me some stories. But do tell me, I’m sure we all want to know. She also said you were still wetting the bed at age ten. Or was it eleven? Did you ever get that fixed? Was it a medical thing? Or were you just too lazy to get up and go pee pee in the potty at night?”

Our bully of a first cousin glares, pivots on the heel of his expensive shoe, and storms off. The second he’s gone, Jean starts to laugh. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” Her face is bright red. “It had to be true, or he’d have shut you down.”

“Aunt Pearl called Mom once,” Kris says. “I wasn’t supposed to be listening in. It was past my bedtime, but when Aunt Pearl mentioned that her ten-year-old kid was still wetting the bed, I was stuck with my cheek to the door for twenty minutes.”

“Thanks,” I say. “It’s not like his opinion matters, but I do appreciate the support.”

Not only does Kris help me with stupid Prescott, but she sits in on the next meeting with Fidelity, and she makes so many jokes about horses and betting, and talks about Sean’s commitment so casually, that the guy in charge decides to match Sean’s generous pledges this morning. It’s nice to have a few purchasers lined up and in my back pocket on the first full day.

I still want her to leave—especially if Katerina’s right and the maniac will leave me alone as long as I do nothing—but I didn’t hate having Kris here when Prescott showed up, and when I’m not fighting with them, they don’t seem to destroy everything. Maybe I’ll be able to survive the next few weeks, even if Kris insists on staying.

“Coffee?” Jean asks, pointing at the pot that’s been sitting on the warmer for at least an hour.

“I’ll walk downstairs and grab one,” I say. “Anyone else need something decent?”

“Do they sell coffee here at three in the afternoon?” Kristiana asks.

“This is New York City,” Jean says. “They have coffee twenty-four hours a day.”

Kris blinks.

I’m walking through the front doors of Chase Tower on Madison Avenue, reviewing the details of our last pitch for the day as I walk, when out of the corner of my eye, I see her.

Katerina.

She’s staring at something on a screen on the other side of the street, and she steps out into the street without looking first. There’s a bus barreling toward her, and there’s no way it can stop in time.

In the movies, this would be where I would leap toward her and shove her out of the way, only to be crushed myself. I have no idea why people do that. It makes no sense. I jog toward her and lean out, grabbing her arm and yanking her back to the safety of the sidewalk. The bus rolls on by, honking, but Katerina’s safe. She’s also pressed against my side like a dryer sheet on wool pants, fresh from the laundry basket.

“Gustav.” Her whisper’s breathy, her eyes wide, and her hands are splayed against my chest. “That was—” She freezes. “That was a selfless act.”

I practically drop her back into the street.

Something like that couldn’t have. . . My heart pounds in my chest, my pulse roaring in my ears. “All I did was snatch you out of the way. You’re fine, and so am I.”

A smile creeps across her face, and her cheeks flush. “But it’s in you, you know. The goodness, I mean.”

“Don’t walk into roads without looking.” I roll my eyes, order my coffee, and march back upstairs, not even taking the time to find out what had her so enthralled that she wasn’t paying attention to her own safety.

Once I reach the boardroom again, I realize that I forgot to grab Grigoriy’s coffee in my rush. So much for being selfless. I wind up having to give him mine and pretend I already drank my cup, even though I’d already had three sips. Now he’s sucking down my saliva with his coffee.

Maybe I should, but I don’t feel at all guilty about being the selfish, focused, driven beast that I am. After all, it’s because of that greed that I won’t be at risk for Leonid’s insane wrath, and if all seven of these people are scared of him, I want nothing to do with it. He can wreak as much havoc as he wants on that side of the world. It just makes me more relieved than ever that I emigrated when I did.

It’s not my problem, and if everything goes according to plan, it never will be.

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