Page 37 of Triplet Babies
“What you’re wearing is fine. You’ll be working behind the scenes, not mingling with guests.” Mrs. Nykova’s expression softens almost imperceptibly. “The evening should conclude by eleven.”
Four hours. I have to watch Yarik celebrate his engagement for four hours while pretending my heart isn’t breaking and my morning sickness isn’t threatening to return at the worst possible moment. “I understand. Where should I report?”
“The main dining room in ten minutes. The caterers are setting up now.”
After she leaves, I sit in my chair for a moment, wrapping my arms around my stomach, where Yarik’s baby is growing. The baby he doesn’t know about, that I still haven’t decided whether to tell him about, because it feels like a way to force him to break the engagement, and I won’t do that. I won’t bear his resentment for feeling trapped.
I can’t deny the engagement feels like an ending. After he puts that ring on Katya’s finger, whatever we’ve had will become impossible to continue. Even if he’s willing to keep seeing me after he’s engaged, I don’t think I can be that woman.
I check my appearance in the compact mirror I keep in my desk drawer. I look pale but composed and professional enough to blend into the background. The navy dress I’m wearing is simple and unremarkable. I’ve worn it several times since starting this job, and it serves me well for staying invisible.
When I enter the main dining room, I’m struck by how transformed the space is. Crystal chandeliers hover over tables draped in cream silk, and elaborate floral arrangements fill the air with the scent of roses and jasmine. Everything is elegant,expensive, and perfect for celebrating a union I desperately wish wasn’t happening.
Nina spots me immediately and approaches with relief evident on her face. She’s wearing the standard black uniform of Hartley Catering with her hair pulled back in a neat bun. “Thank God you’re here.” She keeps her voice low as she adjusts a serving tray. “I was worried I’d have to watch this whole thing alone, though I’m sorry you’re here.”
I perfectly understand what she means with her contradictory statements. “Mrs. Nykova assigned me to coordinate with you. Lucky me.” I force a smile.
She’s openly frowning. “Are you sure you can handle this? You’ve been so sick lately, and watching him get engaged...”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just business, right? That’s what he always said.” It doesn’t feel very businesslike right now, with people in their best clothes, surrounded by all the finery and décor, but I force a shaky smile.
Nina doesn’t look convinced, but she nods. “At least we can suffer through it together. The family’s supposed to arrive in an hour.”
I spend the next hour checking and double-checking arrangements, making sure water glasses are filled and appetizer stations are properly stocked. The repetitive tasks help keep my mind occupied, though my stomach churns every time I think about what’s coming or get within ten feet of the shrimp platters chilling in ice pans in the kitchen. Fortunately, I shouldn’t have to enter that room too often tonight.
At seven o’clock, the first guests begin to arrive. I position myself in an alcove near the kitchen doors where I can observeeverything while remaining inconspicuous. From here, I can signal Nina when items need replenishing without drawing attention to myself or use the radio if she’s busy.
The Nikitin family enters together, and I get my first good look at Yarik’s future in-laws. Leonid Nikitin is exactly what I expected, being tall, silver-haired, and carrying himself with the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed. He looks slightly familiar, making me think back to my first day here. I think he might have passed me moments before Katya. His wife, Ivanna, is elegant in an effortless way that comes from generations of wealth and social training.
Their sons follow, both impressive in their own ways. The older one, Lev, has the build of a soldier and moves with military precision. Nikolai is more polished, clearly comfortable in social settings, and immediately begins working the room.
Then Katya enters, and I stifle a gasp. She’s absolutely stunning in a champagne-colored gown that flows around her like liquid silk. Her platinum hair is swept up in an elaborate style, and she wears diamonds that catch the light and split it into rainbows. She glows with excitement and satisfaction, like a woman who’s achieved exactly what she wanted.
She surveys the room with obvious pleasure, noting the expensive flowers, the perfectly arranged tables, and the guests already gathering to celebrate her engagement. This is her moment of triumph, and she knows it.
Yarik appears a few minutes later, and my heart clenches at the sight of him. He’s wearing a black tuxedo that emphasizes his broad shoulders and lean build, and he looks every inch the powerful man he is. When he takes Katya’s arm and escorts her into the room, they make a striking couple.
The perfect couple, according to everyone here.
I tear my attention away and focus on my radio, checking in with the kitchen staff about the timing for the main course. I can do this. I can get through this evening without falling apart.
The first hour passes in a blur of coordinating drink refills and appetizer rotations. I move around the perimeter of the room, staying in the shadows while keeping watch on guest needs. Most people don’t even notice me, which is exactly what I want.
Yarik is playing his part perfectly, smiling and accepting congratulations with apparent pleasure. He keeps one hand on Katya’s back as they move through the crowd, the gesture looking natural and possessive. Only I know him well enough to catch the tension in his shoulders, and the careful control in his expression.
Or maybe I’m seeing what I want to see and projecting my own hopes onto a situation that’s exactly what it appears to be.
Around eight-thirty, I’m coordinating with Nina about champagne service when Yarik passes closely enough to brush against my arm. The contact is brief and probably accidental, but his fingers linger against mine for just a moment longer than necessary.
The touch sends electricity through me, and I have to force myself not to look at him. Instead, I keep my attention focused on Nina, who’s clearly noticed the exchange.
“Sarah,” she whispers once he’s moved away. “Be careful.”
I try to laugh it off. “It was nothing. Accidental contact.”
“That wasn’t accidental, and you know it.” Her voice carries worry. “You’re playing with fire.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. After what happens here, it’s over.”
