By six o’clock, the food was done, the house was full, and Elena wished she could be anywhere else.
They hadn’t spoken again all day, and Vlad had barely even looked at her. For everyone else, he offered smiles and hugs. But whenever their eyes crossed paths, his face turned to stone. Shortly before the game was supposed to start, the guys got him settled on the couch and then huddled around him in the way they always did. From her spot on the opposite side of the room, she felt the weight of their stares. She looked up to find Mack, Malcolm, and Noah watching her and whispering. They quickly looked away, making it obvious that she’d just busted them talking about her.
Vlad had probably told them about her job interview and now they hated her too. She gave them her back and pretended it didn’t matter. She sensed someone else staring, but this time it was Alexis, who studied her with a slight tilt to her head and a questioning look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Elena asked.
“I asked if there was anything I could do to help?”
“Oh. No, thank you.” Elena shook her head to clear the fog. She gestured toward the table covered in food. “Please just enjoy yourself.”
Alexis looked back and forth between Elena and Vlad before quietly excusing herself.
“Heads up, girlfriend.” Colton’s sudden voice over her shoulder was a fierce whisper. “Your friends are here.”
Great. Just when she thought the night couldn’t get any worse, the Loners marched in single file. Elena slapped a hand over her right eye as it began to twitch.
“What’s wrong?” Colton asked.
“Hex.”
Colton tugged her hand away. “Courage, woman. Don’t let them intimidate you.”
“I’m not intimidated,” Elena hissed.
But then Michelle walked in, and her voice died. Michelle once again carried a pie plate, but this time she’d added a bottle of wine and a dose of understated sophistication that made Elena wish she’d put a little more thought into her own appearance. Compared to Michelle’s sharp blue shorts and sparkly Vipers T-shirt, Elena felt downright frumpy in her jeans and V-neck jersey.
Michelle set her pie down among the other food on the dining table and then made a beeline for Elena, smiling brightly. “I brought you a gift,” she said, handing over the wine.
“For me?” Elena blinked.
“For the hostess,” Michelle said warmly.
Elena accepted the bottle, unsure of what to say. “I— Thank you. That is very kind.”
“It’s my favorite. It’s from a winery in Michigan.”
Claud barreled in like the bull she was. “Where’s Vlad?”
Elena pointed to the living room. At the sound of his name, Vlad turned and looked over the back of the couch. He lifted his drink in greeting. The movement tugged his shirt across his chest, and Elena’s mouth went dry. She tore her eyes away.
Michelle picked up a plate. “This looks amazing. Did you make all this yourself?”
“I did. I’ve been cooking for days.”
“Wait until you taste everything,” Colton said. “Elena is a genius.”
“Anyone can follow a recipe.”
“Ma!” Linda shoved a plate at her mother. “Be nice.”
Andrea gushed. “If any of this is half as good as the pancakes you made, I’m going to walk out of here a satisfied woman.” She preened for Colton’s sake as she dropped a dumpling onto her plate.
Colton took the bait with a wink and a lean. “Darlin’, I guarantee you’ll walk out of here satisfied if you stick with me tonight.”
Michelle caught Elena’s gaze, and they shared an eye roll and a hidden smile that made Elena think they’d be friends in different circumstances. But circumstances were not different, and the fleeting sense of belonging left a hollow space inside her.
Alexis leaned over the table and gasped. “Are those blini?”
“They are,” Elena said, surprised.
Alexis made a lustful noise and plopped two of the cheese-filled crepe-style pastries on her plate. “Oh my God, I haven’t had these in so long.”
“Where have you had them before?”
“Culinary school,” Alexis said. She took a bite and moaned in a way that brought Noah swiveling around. “We didn’t do a lot of Russian foods, but a few. These are my favorite. I cannot believe you made these. I’m going to eat them all.”
The praise mattered more than it should. Elena lifted her shoulder. “I like to cook.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” said Liv, Mack’s wife, as she elbowed past Alexis. “Because Vlad likes to eat.”
Elena forced a smile on her face and tried to participate in the conversation as if nothing was amiss. “I think I’m driving him crazy, to be honest. I fuss too much.”
“All men liked to be fussed over,” Andrea said. “Makes them feel loved. Of course, some sexy lingerie never hurt anyone either.”
“Except your husband,” Claud snorted.
“Ma!”
Elena met Michelle’s smile with one of her own. A real one this time. The unfamiliar sense of camaraderie grew.
“So you and Vlad grew up in the same town?” That was from Malcolm’s wife, Tracy.
“Yes,” Elena nodded, sneak-glancing at Vlad again. “We grew up in Omsk. It’s in the southern part of Siberia.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about Russian geography,” Andrea admitted, selecting a cookie. “How far is Omsk from Moscow?”
“Very far. Almost three thousand kilometers. I was born in Moscow, actually, but we moved to Omsk after my mother died.”
Alexis made a sympathetic noise and rested her hand briefly on Elena’s arm. “I’m so sorry. How old were you?”
“Nine.”
The pity on their faces stiffened her spine. She could read their minds from the look in their eyes. Poor little Elena, who had to marry her best friend to get out of Russia like an unloved orphan. Who had to learn to cook as a child because her father was off saving the world.
She lifted her chin. “And to answer your question, Claud, yes, I am leaving soon. I had an interview yesterday with a newspaper in Moscow.”
It was like a record scratching in the room. Even the TV blaring from the surround-sound speakers seemed to quiet as every eye in the room widened.
One of the guys did a shitty job of whispering to Vlad, “Is that true?”
“Yes,” Vlad answered, and she didn’t have to see his face to know he was forcing the word through a clenched jaw. “It is true.”
So apparently, he hadn’t told his friends yet. And they were not happy about it, judging by the way they crowded around him and began to gesture like a pack of hyenas on a kill.
“Wow,” Andrea said, stammering to cover the tension. “Congratulations on the interview.”
“Yes,” Michelle said. “Congratulations. That sounds like a great opportunity.”
Claud huffed. “When will you be gone?”
Linda shoved a cookie in her mother’s mouth.
“I don’t know yet. It was just a preliminary interview, but I—” Elena paused and cleared her throat. “I will be going back to Chicago first anyway. Probably soon.” The words left a sour taste on her tongue.
“Are you sure?” Alexis said. “We’ve only just started to get to know you.”
“It’s for the best,” Elena said, forcing her chin higher.
“Just promise me you won’t leave until we have a chance to get together again,” Michelle said. “Please, Elena. Promise me.”
She put just enough sincerity into her voice that Elena could almost let herself believe she was part of the club. Or that these women wanted her to be.
But she knew better. These were Vlad’s people. Vlad’s family. She didn’t belong here.
The doorbell rang, and the entire room let out a relieved breath.
“I will get that,” Michelle said, setting down her plate and glass.
A few moments later, she returned with a dazed, glassy-eyed expression followed by a man in a tight pair of jeans and a leather jacket.
Every woman swayed on her feet.
Cheese Man.
Vlad tipped back his glass and demolished an ice cube with his molars.
He and the guys were huddled like a sad rec-league team watching the opposing players warm up and wondering where the hell they found the new, young sniper. In the dining room, Cheese Man stood center stage like a celebrity chef at a food show. The women surrounded him, seduced by his every word as he explained the virtues of the slow dairy movement.
“Do you know what happens when a cow is milked too many times a day? Their stress levels increase, like an overworked mother who just needs a little tender loving care.”
In the center of the table, he’d set up a Girolle wheel and a fresh hunk of Swiss. With every crank of the handle, he shaved off a feather-thin layer of cheese and a year from Vlad’s nerves.
“Stress affects the quality of the milk, and that affects the quality of the cheese. They must be treated with tenderness.” He turned the crank and added a little twist to his hips. “Worship the miracle of their bodies. They must be caressed and nurtured. And you can taste the difference.”
He lifted a slice of cheese and leaned toward Elena, who opened her mouth like a goddamned baby bird and let Cheese Man place it on her tongue. She sighed and closed her eyes.
“You taste the difference, don’t you?” he murmured, trailing a finger down her jaw.
“Mmmm,” she moaned.
Vlad tossed another ice cube in his mouth and broke it in half. “Who the hell does he think he is?”
Colton shrugged. “A super-hot man who knows how to make cheese sound like an orgasm.”
“He’s hitting on every woman here. Why aren’t any of you mad about it?”
Mack shrugged. “I don’t care if Liv wants to taste his cheddar. She’s coming home to my salami.”
The guys all groaned in disgust.
“That was beneath you, dude,” Noah said, his tone betraying his own anxiety about Alexis’s rapt attention to the way Cheese Man gripped his Gouda.
Elena giggled at something Cheese Man said. Vlad felt the blow of it all the way across the room like he’d just been Kronwalled onto his ass. “I’m going to break his balls.”
“This is a side of the Russian I’ve never seen before,” Mack mused, downing the last swallow of a beer.
“What side is that?” Vlad crushed another ice cube.
“Jealous.”
“I am not jealous.”
“You sure seem jealous.”
“I am annoyed. This is my party and my house, and no one is even watching the game because . . . look at him!”
They all turned in time to see Cheese Man hand a Brie-smeared cracker to Michelle. She plucked it from his fingers with her lips. A swoon went up from the women.
Vlad tipped his glass back again but found it empty. He cursed under his breath.
“This is interesting,” Malcolm said, stroking his beard. “I am always intrigued by what it is that finally pushes each man over his limit, what it takes to bring out that inner caveman we’re always trying to suppress. It is a process to overcome a lifetime of toxic masculinity and to—” His voice cut off as Cheese Man picked up Tracy’s hand and kissed it. “I will break his balls.”
Vlad pointed with his empty glass. “Ha, see? It is not so easy to ignore when it is your woman he is hitting on.”
The guys all lifted a collective eyebrow. Vlad realized his mistake. “Not that, I mean . . . Elena is not my woman. We are getting a—a . . . you know.”
Mack tilted his head. “Are you trying to say divorce?”
“You know what I’m trying to say!”
“I do. What I find interesting is that you can’t bring yourself to say it.”
“Shut up.”
Mack faced him head-on, blocking his view of the women. “Why won’t you just admit it, man?”
Vlad gripped his empty glass tighter. “I have nothing to admit.”
Noah snorted. “How about the fact that you don’t want a divorce?”
Vlad hissed at him to keep his voice down. But a quick peek at the dining room told him no one had heard. The women were still too transfixed by how Cheese Man turned his crank.
Mack laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. You don’t have to keep up this lie. Not with us.”
“I’ve made my peace with the status of my marriage,” he finally said.
“The expression on your face right now is not one of peace, man.”
“Then consider it one of acceptance.”
“It’s one of defeat, nut sack.” Mack snorted.
“You heard her. She had a job interview in Moscow. She’s leaving.”
“Don’t you want to fight for her?” Noah asked.
“I’m done fighting for her.”
Another squeal went up from the dining room. Cheese Man was now waxing poetic about the aphrodisiac qualities of Parmesan.
“I hate him so much,” Vlad seethed.
“Kick him out. It’s your party.”
Cheese Man trailed his fingers up Elena’s arm before feeding her a slice of Parm.
Then the room became painted in a red filter as Cheese Men lowered his head.
And kissed his fucking wife.