Page 53 of Lost Room Lawyer
Viktoria seemed pleasant at first glance. She didn’t look anything like I’d imagined. She wore jeans and a chic black blazer, with a brown leather bag hanging from her left shoulder.
A waiter intercepted them, but Viktoria had already spotted us and pointed to our table. My father got up and greeted Hector’s wife with open arms and three kisses.
“Viktoria! It’s been a long time! So good to see you!”
“Leo! Yes, way too long! How are you?”
While they exchanged a few more pleasantries, I also got up from my chair and exchanged a furtive glance with Hector. The situation was clearly uncomfortable for him, and he assessed thesquare table with skepticism. He was probably considering the best seating arrangement.
“Hector!” my father said enthusiastically, shaking his hand and patting his shoulder with the other.
The gesture had a loving quality to it. I was sure if he hadn’t ruined our relationship with that gag order, he would greet me in the same way.
“Hello, Leo, nice to see you,” Hector said, turning to me and Viktoria. “Vicky, let me introduce you to Nico. Nico, this is Viktoria.”
I tried to ignore that the woman was naturally attractive. She didn’t need to plaster on makeup at all. Her brown curls fell over her shoulders, and when she smiled, little dimples appeared in her cheeks.
“Hello,” I said quietly, extending my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh no!” she contradicted with a beaming smile. “The pleasure is all mine—Nicola Rossi.”
My jaw dropped, and the words caught in my throat. Did Hector not want to ensure that…
“Vicky! We talked about this,” Hector interjected.
“Yes, but … my goodness! Men! We have an award-winning author among us!”
Embarrassed, I took a step back and dug my fingernails into my neck. At the same time, I bit my lip.
“I’m sorry for just coming right out with it,” Viktoria apologized. “But I was so excited. To know that you wrote this wonderful book! No! I wouldn’t let anyone silence me about that.” Viktoria moved closer and said confidentially, though Hector and Leo could also hear, “No matter what either of them says, don’t listen to them. You’re a unique author and have touched so many people’s hearts with this book. Ha! Incredible that I believed Nicola Rossi was a woman all these years.”
I managed a smile, but my gaze inevitably drifted to Leo. It was his fault that everyone believed Nicola Rossi was a woman. Viktoria’s handling of the truth in front of everyone demanded a lot from him. The corners of his mouth twitched, which oddly gave me a sense of satisfaction.
“Let’s sit down,” Leo said, feigning casualness but with clenched teeth, and offered Viktoria the chair to his right, so she ended up sitting directly across from me. Hector took the seat to my left.
It was amazing how acutely I could sense Hector’s presence with all my senses; even Leo faded into the background beside me. Hector seemed to have the situation much more under control, as I hadn’t even noticed that he and Leo were already deep in conversation.
As I glanced around me, I noticed Viktoria calmly studying me. I hadn’t felt this uncomfortable and unsettled in a long time. My heart raced as my clammy hand kept wandering to the back of my neck.
When the waiter brought the menu, I felt relieved. A moment of calmness settled at our table—even Hector and Leo were engrossed in it. It gave me a brief chance to catch my breath.
“I’m sorry,” Viktoria said cautiously. “But I just have to ask this.”
Looking up, I realized she was speaking to me. She reached forThe Birds’ Song of Laughterfrom her bag and placed it in the center of the table.
“Would you be so kind as to sign this copy for me?”
My body went rigid, alternating between hot and cold, and I didn’t know what to do—or, even better, what I was allowed to do. In seconds, I experienced a whirlwind of emotions. I felt honored, terrified, surprised, and shocked!
With the additional contract clause, Leo had ensured that I had never found myself in such situations before. In front of melay my bestseller, whose success I had only seen reflected in the increasing numbers in my bank account. That had felt good, but it was nothing compared to what I was experiencing now.
“I … don’t have a pen,” I said, my voice shaky.
“Here.”
Hector grabbed his expensive fountain pen from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to me. My hand trembled as I took it.
“And … uh … what should I write?”
