Chapter 72 (1/2)

“It makes me feel cheap,” she says.

“It shouldn’t. You’re overthinking it. Don’t place some vague moral judgment on yourself based on what others might think. Don’t waste your energy. It’s only because you have reservations about our arrangement; that’s perfectly natural. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Anxiety is etched all over her lovely face.

“Hey, stop this. There is nothing about you that is cheap, Anastasia. I won’t have you thinking that. I just sent you some old books that I thought might mean something to you, that’s all.”

She blinks a couple of times and stares at the package, obviously conflicted.

Keep them, Ana—they’re for you.

“Have some champagne,” I whisper, and she rewards me with a small smile.

“That’s better.” I open the champagne and fill the dainty teacups she’s placed in front of me.

“It’s pink.” She’s surprised, and I haven’t the heart to tell her why I chose pink.

“Bollinger La Grande Année Rosé 1999—an excellent vintage.”

“In teacups.” She grins. It’s infectious.

“In teacups. Congratulations on your degree, Anastasia.”

We touch cups, and I drink. It tastes good, as I knew it would.

“Thank you.” She raises the cup to her lips and takes a quick sip. “Shall we go through the soft limits?”

“Always so eager.” Taking her hand, I lead her to the sofa—one of the only remaining pieces of furniture in the living room—and we sit, surrounded by boxes.

“Your stepfather’s a very taciturn man.”

“You managed to get him eating out of your hand.”

I chuckle. “Only because I know how to fish.”

“How did you know he liked fishing?”

“You told me. When we went for coffee.”

“Oh, did I?” She takes another sip and closes her eyes, savoring the taste. Opening them again, she asks, “Did you try the wine at the reception?”

“Yes. It was foul.” I grimace.

“I thought of you when I tasted it. How did you get to be so knowledgeable about wine?”

“I’m not knowledgeable, Anastasia, I just know what I like.” And I like you. “Some more?” I nod toward the bottle on the table.

“Please.”

I fetch the champagne and refill her cup. She regards me suspiciously. She knows I’m plying her with alcohol.

“This place looks pretty bare. Are you ready for the move?” I ask, to distract her.

“More or less.”

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yes, my last day at Clayton’s.”

“I’d help you move, but I promised to meet my sister at the airport. Mia arrives from Paris early on Saturday. I’m heading back to Seattle tomorrow, but I hear Elliot is giving you two a hand.”

“Yes, Kate is very excited about that.”

I’m surprised Elliot is still interested in Ana’s friend; it’s not his usual MO. “Yes, Kate and Elliot, who would have thought?” Their liaison makes matters complicated. My mother’s voice rings in my head: “You could bring Anastasia.”

“So what are you doing about work in Seattle?” I ask.