Page 23 of Ruling Scar
Today’s high pony isn’t as pretty as the chignon I managed to create yesterday but I woke up like a zombie this morning after staying up late to read.
“Thanks.” I hope my cheeks don’t turn pink. “How have you been?”
“Great.” Leopold’s always had an easy air about him, a light smile brightening his face. “Hey, we should catch up. Get something to eat sometime.”
And for the first time in forever, I have a date.
CHAPTER 6
Lennie
Okay, so it’s not quite a date. Leopold didn’t mention anything, but it’s a guy and a girl getting dinner on a Saturday night.
That’s definitely a date, right?
Probably not if you have to ask.
“You look nice.” Mom catches me off guard, coming in from the patio, wearing a heavy coat and holding a pair of gardening shears in one hand. “You didn’t mention you were going out. I thought Ferdinand had the night off.”
“He does.”
She frowns, following me into the kitchen. The mouthwatering smell of garlic bread hits my nose. Adeline mans a pot of pasta but her eyes light up when she sees me.
“Dressing up for your books?” She waggles her brows.
“I’m going out,” I mumble. I’m wearing a short black dress. It’s plain, but too tight for the office.
Mom clears her throat. “Talk to Michael. Someone will drive you.”
“I’m taking the train,” I say.
“Either way someone goes with you.”
Perhaps, Janis is right and I’m tired of never living life boldly. I remind her, “Nat went on dates without a guard.”
Adeline’s lips part in amazement, but she cautiously peeks at Mom.
Gia Akatov shoos her away from the pasta. The kitchen is her domain. “Nat very conveniently fell in love with Lia Orlov.”
And her father rarely let her go without a guard.
“Dating and guards don’t mix,” I remind. Nat tenaciously fought her point, not wanting a hovering Russian guard breathing down her neck, when first wooing Lia. Adeline’s gone on dates as well without the bulky bodyguards.
“We haven’t vetted this person,” Mom says.
“I’ve vetted him.”
Leopold’s a golden ray of sunshine.
I walk around the kitchen island, wrapping Mom in a hug. “It’s going to be fine, mamma.”
“Do not mamma me,” she replies, knowing the term of endearment is used when sucking up. “It’s better this guy—”her eyes flash toward me, demanding details—“knows how things are from the get go.”
“It’s hard to believe, but not everyone is inclined to join the family business first chance they get.”
She shrugs, nonplussed.
“Mamma.”
