. Why was she here?” He
gazes down at me, and his mouth curls apologetically.
“She’s a family friend.”
I try not to react. “Not any more. How’s your mom?”
“Mom is pretty fucking mad at me right now. I’m really
glad you’re here, and that we’re in the middle of a party.
Otherwise I might be breathing my last.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad, huh?”
He nods, his eyes serious, and I sense his
bewilderment at her reaction.
“Can you blame her?” My voice is quiet, cajoling.
He hugs me tightly and he seems uncertain, processing
his thoughts.
Finally he answers. “No.”
Whoa! Breakthrough. “Can we sit?” I ask.
“Sure. Here?”
I nod and we both sit at the top of the stairs.
“So, how do you feel?” I ask, anxiously clutching his
hand and gazing at his sad, serious face.
He sighs.
“I feel liberated.” He shrugs, then beams—a glorious,
carefree Christian smile, and the weariness and strain
present moments ago ha一ve vanished.
“Really?” I beam back. Wow, I’d crawl over broken
glass for that smile.
“Our business relationship is over. Done.”
I frown at him. “Will you liquidate the salon business?”
I frown at him. “Will you liquidate the salon business?”
He snorts. “I’m not that vindictive, Anastasia,” he
admonishes me. “No. I’ll gift them to her. I’ll talk to my
lawyer Monday. I owe her that much.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “No more Mrs. Robinson?”
His mouth twists in amusement and he shakes his head.
“Gone.”
I grin.
“I’m sorry you lost a friend.”
He shrugs then smirks. “Are you?”
“No,” I confess, flushing.
“Come.” He stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s join
the party in our honor. I might even get drunk.”
“Do you get drunk?” I ask as I take his hand.
“Not since I was a wild teenager.” We walk down the
stairs.
“Ha一ve you eaten?” he asks.
Oh crap.
“No.”
“Well you should. From the look and smell of Elena,
that was one of my father’s lethal cocktails you threw over
her.” He gazes at me, trying and failing to keep the
amusement off his face.
“Christian, I—”
He holds up his hand.
“No arguing, Ana
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