23
CORA
I eat lunch—an incredible pork taco that I would give my left nipple to have the recipe for—and then experiment with a stroll around the yard.
I pace back and forth, slowly making my way further and further from the house as a kind of test.
If I move twenty paces out, will a guard appear to escort me back?
What about thirty paces? Maybe a drone will buzz overhead, a tiny gun aimed and ready to fire.
But nothing happens. The sky remains clear except for the sun, which turns my shoulders pink. I kick off my sandals and drag my toes through the lush grass.
More and more, I think Yasha is probably right. Life here in Ivan’s mansion won’t be so bad…
Which will make things even worse when I’m ruthlessly kicked back to the dirty curb of my normal life.
I don’t want to sound ungrateful. My life is good. It’s better than living in abject poverty and it’s certainly better than the bedazzled cell my stepfather had planned for me.
Still, it’s nice to have a hot meal delivered to my table. It’s nice to freely spend an afternoon without counting down the hours until my next shift at the diner.
I have a feeling, when all is said and done, it will be hard to walk away from this.
I make it all the way to the back fence and turn around to face the mansion. It’s breathtaking that people live like this. That I’m going to live like this, no matter how briefly.
The house is a stunning three levels with balconies draped from some of the windows. A mezzanine level winds halfway around the top floor. Endless windows and doors and rooms and secrets tucked away in what can only be described as a castle.
Except the man inside is no Prince Charming.
And I’m sure as hell no princess.
My mind is making its fifth pass over my long list of worries when I finally pull the phone Yasha gave me out of my pocket and tap in Jorden’s number.
She answers immediately. “Hello?”
“Hey. It’s me.”
There’s a pause before she shrieks. “Cora! I’ve been blowing up your phone all day. Where have you been? What happened? The windows blew out. Someone said a gas explosion, but I don’t know. I thought I heard gunfire. Are you okay?”
She’s talking so fast that she’s panting by the time she pauses.
“I’m okay. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” she asks. “Was it an explosion? Or a shooting? That hot guy who took me outside wouldn’t say anything.”
I frown. Ivan didn’t take her outside. Then I realize who she is talking about. “Yasha?”
“Right. Yasha. He told me not to worry about it. But guess what? I’m worried! Where have you been?”
“I’ve been…” I imagine Ivan sitting in some dark room somewhere, headphones on and a monitor with my face splashed across it in front of him. “I’ve been with Ivan.”
There’s a long pause before Jorden speaks again. “Ivan…Pushkin? From the party last night?”
“Yeah. He came into the restaurant this morning.”
There’s another long pause. Then Jorden screams.
“What?” I gasp. “What is going—”
“You fucked Ivan Pushkin at the party last night and then he showed up to see you the morning after?!” Jorden squeals. “Holy shit! I can’t believe it! But…wait. Was the explosion this morning because of Ivan?”
“No. It was…” I try to quickly sort through what I can and can’t tell Jorden, but in the end, it’s easier to lie. “It was all a case of mistaken identity. A drive-by shooting, I think?”
“Shit. Really?” She blows out a long breath. “That’s a relief. I mean, it’s absolutely batshit, bananas, bonkers, totally off the rocker. But still a relief, I guess.”
“Yeah, it is. But I’m still kind of shaken up. I’ll probably take a few days off of work.”
“Usually, I’d be pissed because I cannot be covering all of your shifts, but the restaurant is closed for repairs, anyway. Come over. Or I can come to you?”
I wince. “I’d love to, but…I’m not at my apartment right now. I probably won’t be for a while.”
“Oh. Where are you?”
Yasha told me not to give away my exact location, but I’m assuming it’s safe to say… “I’m with Ivan.”
This time, when there is a long pause, I know to pull the phone away from my ear. Through the speaker, I hear a tinny shriek.
“No way!” Jorden squeals. “He invited you back to his house?”
Invited, abducted. To-may-to, to-mah-to.
“Yeah. That’s why he came to the restaurant this morning. He was there because I ran off last night without giving him my number.”
Jorden is making all kinds of giddy noises from the other end of the phone. I wouldn’t put it past her to be literally jumping for joy right now. Then she stops. “Wait! That whole party last night was for Ivan to find a wife, right?”
I chew on my lip. I hate lying to her. “Uh, yeah. Right.”
“And now, he wants your number?”
“Correct.”
A third silence stretches. I wince in preparation for what I know is coming in three, two, one…
“HOLY SHIT! IVAN PUSHKIN WANTS TO MARRY YOU?!”
I let Jorden calm down to a decibel safe for human ears before I put the phone back to my ear. “That seems to be correct.”
“Oh my God! I thought this kind of thing could only happen in fairy tales, but you’ve got yourself a real life prince.”
Sure. Prince of darkness, maybe.
“How did this happen?” Jorden badgers me. “I mean, obviously, he met you and was enamored with your beauty and wit and cleavage and other incredible qualities. But what happened last night?”
Now, this part I can tell without any lies.
I run through the drunk man ripping my dress to shreds and Ivan walking in on me naked in his office. “I had no clue who he was at first,” I admit. “When I found out, I tried to leave—but I guess I didn’t quite get that far.”
“Insane,” she breathes. “This whole thing is insane. If you need me to get out there with my voodoo shit and lay a curse on his ass and bust you out Ocean’s Eleven-style, you just say the word. But if not, I’m happy for you. If you’re happy, that is.”
“I…think so, yeah. Thanks.” I try to sound the part, but I can feel exhaustion creeping back in. Lying is hard work. “But I have to go.”
“Of course. So much sex to have and money to spend. You’re a busy woman now.”
I snort. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Lunch!” she demands. “We will have lunch. It will be a long lunch. Very thorough. No detail too small, do you hear me?”
Now, my smile comes easily. Jorden is so quintessentially Jorden in this moment that I can’t help but love her. “I hear you. It’s a deal.”
And I really mean it. One day, I’m going to sit down and tell Jorden everything. The truth.
I just have no idea when that will be.