Page 8 of The Dancer and the Grumpy Billionaire

“Speaking of which,” I say through another mouthful of the delicious treat, “You promised me gossip.”

Isabelle grins wickedly and launches into a litany of stories that have me blushing. We talk for over an hour, until she finally says she needs to catch a train home. I thank her for the invitation, and the good gossip. She kisses me on the cheek and winks, then bounds out of the shop like a deranged deer.

I walk back to the apartment, which is more than a mile and a half away, only to extend my rebellion and enjoy my brief moment of freedom for a bit longer.

I am glad for it, because I receive a backhand across the cheek the moment I walk into the apartment. Vera, red-faced, screams at me.

“You ungrateful brat!” she yells. “Where were you?”

“I got a smoothie with a friend from work,” I say calmly, refusing to acknowledge the pain in my cheek, which is hot and throbbing already. Another bruise to cover, I am sure.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Galina,” she says dramatically.

“Leave me alone?” I suggest. “Just a thought.”

“You are so unappreciative of what you have,” Vera clucks. “You have everything catered to you. Someone cleans your room and makes your food. Someone drives you. Someone pays your bills. You want for nothing.”

“I don’t want any of those things,” I say.

“Well, you have them, thanks to your generous father who loves you and wants you to be safe.”

“You act like he gives a shit about either of us,” I say. “You’re just one of many women he puts his dick in, Vera. You’re not special.”

Vera’s face pinches at the jab. It is mean; I know it, but Vera is only here because she shows loyalty to my father. My father only rewards loyalty. You cannot question him, or argue with him. What he says goes. She is good at playing to his ego, at putting him on a pedestal. I think she hopes he will marry again, that he will choose her because she has stayed loyal, even though she is one of many. I feel sorry for her. It must be exhausting to maintain that level of delusion.

“I really just want to get my own place,” I say. “This is ridiculous. I am a grown woman.”

Vera scoffs. “You wouldn’t be able to find your way out of a paper bag on your own.”

“I know you’re just jealous of me,” I say acerbically. “You were the nanny and you saw him happy with my mother and me, and you are jealous that he never wanted that with you. He only wanted yourservice.”

“Watch your tongue,” Vera snarls.

“Look, he will never love anyone like he loved her. Why don’t you just walk away? Get a life. Find someone who makes you happy. He will not choose you, Vera. Not ever. Not like you want him to.”

Vera raises a hand to slap me again, but I manage to catch her hand before it makes contact. I look in her eyes, mine likely shining with venom, and squeeze as tightly as I can. Hard enough to make her face twist in pain.

I let go and she backs away, giving me space to step past her, I walk with my head held high and my heart beating very hard in my chest until I reach my room. I kick the door shut, flop onto my bed, and scream into my pillow.

CHAPTER 4

Vasily

“So you work for a Senator?” Michelle asks as we await our meals.

“Yes,” I say. “For Senator Jennings. He’s from California.”

“Oh, and what do you do?”

“I am a foreign policy advisor,” I say. “It is my job to be an expert on pretty much everything going on in the world so that I can inform him as he makes decisions.”

“Wow,” she answers. It is not an impressedwow, either. It is like I put her to sleep just with that single explanatory sentence.

This is the first blind date I have ever set up through a dating app, and it is not giving me hope for the power of the technology. The conversation so far has been awkward, to say the least.

“Did you grow up here in DC?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “I grew up in Atlanta, actually.”

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