In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(20)

She returned with a half a gallon of cookies and cream and two spoons. Handing one over, they sat Indian style on the couch, the bucket between them.

“This,” Amber started gesturing towards her work, “means everything to me. It’s what I live for. I was fortunate enough to have parents that didn’t care what I wanted to do as long as I put forth an effort to do something.”

“But…” Lauren prompted when she paused.

“Rob…he’s a great guy, but he doesn’t see art the way I do. He thinks it’s more of a hobby and I should start thinking about what I want to do in the future.” She gazed down sadly, scooping up another big spoonful of ice cream.

“I don’t know him that well, but I think I know you…at least a decent amount.”

That got a laugh out of her.

“If you want to be an artist, then that’s what you should do. Don’t let him make you doubt yourself.”

“Everything else is great between us though.”

“But he has to accept you for you. Everyday you’re painting something new. Hell, look around our apartment. It’s like living in a museum in here. If he loves you, and I’m not saying he doesn’t, wouldn’t he love this too?”

Amber gave her a watery smile, wiping her cheeks. “I’m older. I’m supposed to be giving you advice.”

Lauren laughed. “I get it from an overprotective mother and having a cop for a father.”

Lauren never said it when she was around Ross, the notion always made him feel like he was overstepping, but that was really what he was to her. Her earliest memories—at least those that weren’t blocked—were of her and Ross, going for hotdogs in the park, kite flying. She cherished those moments with him, even if he was always worried that he might offend her.

“So...what are you doing up?”

Lauren winced, not really sure if she should divulge her crush when Amber was having relationship problems.

“Let me guess, he’s a six foot tall Russian?” She laughed at Lauren’s expression. “It was pretty obvious the other night when the two of you were all over each other.”

She gasped. “We were not. He was helping me back from the restroom.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

She swatted her arm, even as she was fighting her own smile. “I’m serious. I was nearly accosted while you were busy sucking face with Rob.”

“Yea, yea, don’t change the subject. What’s he done that has you so nervous?”

“Well, you remember what I told you about the night at Diego’s? He’s supposed to be meeting me tomorrow, I guess to talk.”

“And you like him...”

She nodded.

“But you’re worried about his relationship with that girl?”

Again she nodded.

“Then the answer is simple. You have two choices, either jump his bones, or make him sweat.”

Lauren laughed, dropping her spoon in the now empty carton. “I’m not sure I like either of those choices.”

“I’ll break it down. For option A. In my experience, most guys are pretty straight forward. If he wanted to have sex with you, he’d probably have put the moves on you prior to now, right? I doubt you’ll just jump into bed with him though, Ross might kill him.”

That was true enough.

“Since we’re not going with option A, there’s option B. If he asks you out, which I’m ninety percent sure he will, decline the offer.”

“But—”

Amber raised her hands. “No, let me finish. Your job is to let him know that you’re not going to forget what happened and if he is interested, he has to work for it.”

“And what if that doesn’t work? What if that’s the only time he’ll ask?”

“Then he wasn’t worth it in the first place.”

***

Mishca was sitting alone at a table in the cafe, alternating between sending out orders on his Blackberry and drinking coffee, another cup resting on the table in front of him.

It was a particularly girly drink, but it was more than just that. It was a peace offering for the shit that went down the other night.

He had been sitting there for the last fifteen minutes, looking up whenever the bell rang, expecting to see Lauren walk through. He couldn’t remember the last time he made a conscious effort to try to meet a girl, and it didn’t help that he didn’t know when she would be arriving and he lived across town.

The first time he had stopped in this cafe was purely coincidental. A night with Rebecca was exhausting, and he needed the extra caffeine the morning after. Originally, she had agreed that it would only be one night—it was a stipulation he made clear long before he entertained taking her to bed—but she was used to having everyone answer to her every beck and call, but Mishca didn’t take orders from just anyone. And a girl as annoying as Rebecca? He could only stand one night.

A few nights later, Jonathan had called in a favor and though he was over Rebecca’s high maintenance, he agreed to accompany them.

She was as pretentious as he had been expecting, but he could tolerate it, knowing that it would be the last time he saw her, but his night had looked up when Lauren appeared.

There was something about her, something that peaked his curiosity. The women he had gotten used to in New York were vain creatures, especially the ones that frequented his club, hoping to entice him, using their expensive good looks to garner his attention. Yet, there she was, almost shy in her approach.