Page 38 of Wilt

“She’ll have the same, but egg whites in her omelet.”

I want to call him an asshole, but I bite it down and just say, “Thank you. Sylvie.”

The girl just nods and scurries out.

“You make her nervous,” Nikolai says, reaching for his coffee.

“I think she has a crush.” Horrified, I slap a hand over my mouth.

All he does is laugh. “On you?”

I shake my head, my voice softer than before in my complete embarrassment. “You.”

“I didn’t hire her.” He turns a page, continuing to read his paper and not look at me. “That was Mia.”

“Who—” I stop myself again. My stomach rumbles and he sighs, then pushes his food at me. Heat floods my skin. “I can’t—”

“Yeah, you can. I can wait.” He sighs again, folding the paper and setting it down once it’s clear I’m not picking up the fork. “You know, Rose, it’s rude to wait.”

“It’s rude to eat when you’re waiting.”

“Did you read your book?” There’s a softer spark to his gaze, one a foolish girl might take as flirtation. “Manners dictate that it’s rude to wait when the food is hot and rude not to wait when the food is cold.”

“So if I wait, and it goes cold, it’s not rude?”

He laughs again. “Now, there’s a take on it. Just eat, Rose.”

I dig in, and almost don’t notice when another tray arrives. We eat together, like this is normal, just breakfast for a regular couple. We chat, like I’m here because I chose to be and he isn’t a psychotic killer.

“So, Rose,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Why the beauty pageants?”

I shrug. “Why not?”

His face remains expressionless, but I pick up a hint of annoyance in the air. Either that, or I’m paranoid. “That isn’t an answer.”

“It is. I mean, they’re something to do.” I pause. It’s not like I had a normal path, and online degrees compared to going to a great college? This just seemed smart. Plus, it was a way to get out there, be seen. I liked being visible again, but I don’t tell him that.

He studies me with a quizzical look. “You could do anything.”

“Not here.” I bite my lip. “It just seemed a fast path to be seen, get ahead to do what I want to do with my life.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and no doubt my little slip is being played as an unintentional act of defiance in his mind. Nikolai is probably deciding how much he’s going to punish me.

“So, what do you want to do with your life?” he asks. “Be an ambassador?”

I jolt, almost dropping my fork. Regaining my composure, I carefully lay it down and take a sip of my juice.

He watched my pageant. Of course he did. I talked about it the night… the night… I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and carefully skirt what he did to Uncle Max. I talked about it the night he took me.

I nod. “Yes.”

“You think that’ll make a difference? You, a beauty queen?” There’s no sting to his words, just curiosity, however mild. I go with it, pretending the niceness is normal, that this isn’t life and death, imprisonment and freedom.

“I was—am.” I stop. “I’d use the exposure as a stepping stone. I got my degree online, and I want to use it. I want to cut through the red tape and get ahead.”

“You want to jump the line of regular, plain people?”

“People aren’t plain,” I say quietly. “Everyone can be interesting and beautiful, and they all deserve a chance. I want to cut to the chase so I can do just that.”

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