Page 71 of The Beauty Who Loved Him

She was lucky to have a contact at a printer in the city who could get the invitations done as fast as they had; one of the only good things she had gained from The Swan House.

The guy used to do all their promo, promised to be discreet, and fast. All of which he had been, so far. Vera appreciated it.

“I really wanted to be able to get one sent to my parents—properly, in the mail,” Vera added, shooting Hannah a look, “before the actual wedding happens.”

Hannah laughed. “Better get it in the mail, then.”

That was the plan.

“I bet we could get Kiril to run us over to the printer to pick them up,” Vera said.

Hannah, chewing through another bite in her sandwich, eyed Vera as she finished the bite. All the while, the crease of tension in her friend’s forehead softened with every chew. Eventually, she swallowed the food, and muttered, “Just say it, Vera.”

“Say what?”

“You’re excited.”

Vera sucked in a breath, holding it in her chest as she wondered; is that what this is? The humming she felt in her chest, and the butterflies in her belly? The urge to look at her phone, and the image on the text again to see her name below his on cream card stock was that all just excitement? The wedding only a handful of weeks away was the first step to an uncertain future, but that didn’t stop her from looking forward to it all the same.

“It’s more than that, too,” Vera said, letting that breath she’d been holding out. “But he’s private, for good reason, and I don’t mind following along with his wishes if it means he’s comfortable. And just so you know, one of these invitations” —she waved her phone— “is for you.”

“Obviously, I’d be mad if one wasn’t,” Hannah threw back, sending both women into a fit of hushed giggles.

Eventually, Vera calmed enough to ask, “But you still won’t be my legal witness?”

Hannah eyed the quiet street outside the cafe from the wall of bay windows overlooking the scene. “Just to be clear, you getting married won’t change anything about you and me, right?”

“Of course, not.”

Hannah’s head bobbed up and down once. “I guess I better do it, huh?”

Vera only grinned. “We can pick a dress for you next week, too.”

“Are you paying?”

Like Hannah didn’t have the money, but all the same ...

“No, actually,” Vera said, smirking while she put the phone away. “Vaslav is.”

*

Vera, halfway through her chicken sandwich while Hannah took a minute in the bathroom at the far end of the cafe, was lost devouring her lunch until Kiril swept past her in the aisle. She barely had the chance to look up and see him go before she heard the familiar ting of the bell over the cafe’s front door. She turned around in her seat as he exited the cafe at the same time a black limo came to a stop on the side of the street.

The unusual vehicle, with flags flapping from what she could see from the front, didn’t linger long. The second a figure dressed in black stepped out of the rear and closed the door, the limo pulled back onto the road as if it hadn’t even been in park.

A black SUV took its place.

One she recognized.

Vera didn’t pay Igor’s arriving SUV much mind because she was more interested in the figure that exited the street to enter the cafe. Vaslav was a hell of a sight for sore eyes when he decided to make a public debut. Of course, she’d witnessed him smartly dressed in a three-piece suit with a well-fitted blazer and vest and tie that matched the silk of his pocket square, all deep red. It didn’t change how the presence of him walking toward her from behind with purpose could practically shrink the entire world around her.

Swinging around in her seat at the same time Vaslav took the open chair across from hers, Hannah’s, all she could ask the man hiding his eyes behind dark aviators was, “What are you doing here?”

Vaslav smiled, or tried. His lips didn’t quite pull high enough for a full smile and fell too quickly. “Didn’t I promise you a date?”

“I thought I needed a black dress for the date?”

His chin tilted higher, and while she couldn’t see his eyes behind the opaque lenses, she could feel the way he stared at the dress hugging her curves. “Looks like you’re wearing black to me.”