Page 81 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“You’ll have the time of your life, I promise.”
Maxim rolls his eyes slightly as we part, and while his touch lingers on my thigh, sliding to my hip and then my backside as I exit the car, there’s a pull of yearning in my chest. I should have asked him to come with me, and then we’d turn up to my parents’ party late but together.
By the time I mull this over, the sedan has pulled away. Maxim and Toto melt into the night while Stu stands next to me, unable to look me in the eye. We’ve not spent much time together in the weeks I’ve been with Maxim. Other than his appearing to drive a car or watch from afar, the majority of our interaction came fromour first night and he still hasn’t apologized. If I didn’t know how tough these men were, I’d assume he’s scared.
“Shall we?” Treating Stu like an asshole is tempting, but I’d much rather be nice until the guilt of what he did makes him crumble. Smiling sweetly at him, we climb the steps to the manor and I knock lightly on the door.
“Invitation?” the doorman asks immediately as he opens the door.
“I’m Hollie Wolfe. I’m the entertainment.”
The man grunts and glances past me to Stu. “And him?”
“My escort.”
“Wait here.”
The door closes in my face. Looking back at Stu, my brows pinch. “Bit rude,” I murmur, clutching my shawl around my shoulders. “Making us wait out in the cold.”
Stu doesn’t reply but his gaze is upward as if he’s studying the building. His lips twist, but just as they part to speak, the door swings open once more and the doorman returns, apparently with a new attitude.
“Miss Wolfe! Welcome, welcome. Come in, come in. Mr. Havershire has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
“Am I too late?” I glance at my phone while stepping inside as my gut clenches. Did I get the time wrong? If I’ve messed up this man’s engagement, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Not at all. Right on time, actually,” the doorman assures me. “Your escort can wait here.”
Stu bristles immediately and lifts the violin case in his hands. “I stay with her,” he states dryly, finally breaking his silence. “Gotta protect the lady’s nails.”
The doorman doesn’t back down and he holds out his hand for the violin case. “I can take that.”
There’s a beat of tension between the two of them. Stu, under orders from Maxim, isn’t to leave my side. But causing a scene risks losing me this gig, and while Maxim, the man with infinite money, wouldn’t care, I do.
“It’s fine, Stu,” I assure him with a smile. “He’s new,” I say to the doorman. “But I do this all the time. I won’t be long, plus, you’ll still be able to hear me play.”
Stu, put on the spot, is left with no choice but to hand the case over. “I’ll be here,” he says and locks eyes with me. “Right here, understand?”
I nod quickly, then I’m swept away by the doorman. “Your escort is intense.”
“Like I said, he’s new. I think he used to be a bodyguard for some celebrity so he’s not used to the quieter, slower life of a musician.” I laugh softly.
“Odd that your line of work involves needing an escort.”
“Protecting my nails!” I waggle my freshly painted silver nails that match the silver dress I’m wrapped up in. “My hands are my most precious commodity.”
“I’m sure.” The doorman smiles politely and leads me into a small side room. “Mr. Havershire says you can get ready here. Someone will come and get you when it’s time for the dancing, and you know the cue for his proposal?”
“Yes. He’ll start making a small speech and when the rose petals fall, I switch songs.”
The doorman flashes a tight smile, hands me the violin case, and then he’s gone, leaving me to the quiet room that holds an odd chill in the air. Removing my shawl, I drape it over the back of the lone chair in the room and breathe deeply to calm my nerves. The faint, stale stink of smoke lingers in the air. This must have been a smoking room back in the day.
As I unpack my violin and check it over, my phone buzzes rapidly multiple times.
[Stu]You good?
[Stu]You need anything?
[Stu]What room you in?
